NOTICES OF BOOKS.

1.-The Orient Pearl for 1835.

This elegant little Annual, inferior perhaps in literary merit to its predecessors, is distinguished from them by its marked bearing on the moral and religious improvement of India.

Few readers will rise from the perusal of Dr. Grant's powerful tale of The Leper, without feelings of hatred and loathing for the murderous spirit of idolatry, and increased respect and veneration for the pure and gentle religion of Christ. We shall make room for one long extract. Bholánáth's leprosy has been discovered, and he has been shunned, and driven from the ghát with ignominy, by his friends and neighbours :

"The unhappy man sought not his home that night. He wandered till midnight among the jungles, purposeless and hopeless, and at length, gliding through the gloom like a guilty thing, entered the ruinous old temple already known to the reader, and falling down before the broken image, watered it with his tears, and poured forth his soul in heart-broken prayers before that idol, which felt not, heard not, and knew not his anguish. Clasping his arms widely round the senseless stone, he invoked the dread being, whom he believed to be mystically lodged within its form, and so spent that long and miserable night.

"Hour after hour passed, and his wife expected him, but he came not. Hast thou looked out, Rámnáth, for thy father? I have searched in every direction, and even near the old temple-but hearing strange and unearthly sounds issue from it, I turned my feet homewards, not knowing what to do.'

"In the morning, ere the sun's first beams had tipped the tree tops with gold, Bholánáth's wife, who had fallen asleep from exhaustion, sitting as she was, awoke from her uneasy slumber, and beheld her husband standing with blood-shot eyes, with a wild, wearied, and haggard air, before her. My lord' she exclaimed, with a look of joyous recognition, bounding up and embracing him- What became of you? Are you well?

"Mother of Rámnáth,' said her husband gloomily, thou too, like the rest, I suppose, wilt forsake me l'

Master of the house, oh my husband, what words are these-why should I forsake thee? Answer me this, woman,' he said harshly; Wilt thou sleep on the same mat with, wilt thou put thy hand into the same dish with, wilt thou drink out of the same cup with, a LEPER? for behold I am become so! Answer me that. No, thou wilt not. Thou art like the rest, and Bholánáth is alone in the world.'

"She sunk down as if she had received a blow, and clinging to his knees, wept bitterly. Oh my husband,' she spoke in broken tones,it is as I feared. I thought so, when Bisseram's daughter taunted mine with her father's having the kushta*. But whatever may betide, in woe as in weal, I never quit thee while I live.'

66 6 My kind, kind wife, it must not be-this day we part, and part for ever!"'

"I spent last night in Mahádeo's temple, and I saw, or dreamed, that Shiva looked smilingly upon me, and held out a hand of encouragement. Cheer up. My business here is at an end. I shall meet Rámnáth in the fields. To take leave of the younger ones is beyond my strength.'

"Whither,' inquired his wife wildly- Whither wilt thou

go ?

"I go towards Prayága, where there is a gate of death. There shall I consign myself to Kamya-marana, (voluntary suicide;) and comfort thou thyself with the thought, that the practice is laudably enjoined in several Shastras, and that some of the Smritis and Puránas lay down rules for Kámya-marana, declaring it meritorious in a Shudra. But I can no more delay. I am called hence.' His wife threw her arms round his neck, and they were for some minutes clasped in this, their last embrace.

**Art thou prepared for the journey-hast thou means of procuring food and lodging?'

Means sufficient; that has been thought of-again fare thee well!' "But one word-thou wilt send me back thy staff, or thy shoes, by a trusty messenger?'

The Leprosy.

“Bholánáth looked fixedly at his wife, and his eyes filled as he did so. He understood full well the meaning of that request, it being (formerly) a custom of the Hindus, that when a widow cannot sacrifice herself on her husband's funeral pile, she will become a Satí with a staff, or any other representative of him, that is brought from the place of his death, or burning. Bholánáth was silent.

"Wilt thou,' she continued quickly; wilt thou not grant me this last, this small favour ?'

"Rámnáth's mother! who will take care of our little one, our tender little boy whom I dare not see again, lest he should unman me, and make me forego my fated purpose, if it were possible? Oh my faithful, my kind and much loved wife, thou wilt live to be a mother for that helpless child, whatever you may hear of me?' "Bholánáth, I conjure thee as my last wish, comply with my request-I have much to say, but my head is confused. Oh I can no more-farewell.' One last long look of mutual anguish, and she found herself alone.

"The shades of evening deepened, ere her daughter returned with her little brother. His father had been in the habit of cutting out little rude figures out of every bit of wood the child picked up, and in this way the little fellow had accumulated a host of khelonás or play-things. The boy ran up to his mother, who sat silent and abstracted, with her head upon her knees. Mother,' he asked, 'where is my father? I want him to make an elephant for me.' She looked up, clasped him in her arms, and bursting into tears said, Child, thou hast no father.' At this declaration, the poor little fellow began to cry most piteously. Why, however, dwell further on the sadness that reigned that night, and many following nights, in a dwelling where formerly the inmates had been so contented and happy?"

Well may Dr. Grant add,

"It is indeed affecting to witness and to reflect on the sufferings, that tens of thousands of poor pilgrims of Hindustán annually undergo for religious reasons. The privations and the tortures they endure are sometimes appalling, and it is but justice to say that they bear such trials in silence and with fortitude. One cannot, who has witnessed all this, think of millions of his fellow men exposed to such ordeals, without an emotion of deep sympathy for beings who make such sacrifices to con. scientious conviction. With this also mingles the hope that a better day may dawn for them, and that their spiritual bondage may yet pass away before the light of revealed truth!"'

We hope often to see this eloquent and powerful writer exerting his great talents for that holy cause.

There is a little narrative, "The Hindu Foundling," by the Rev. Mr. Sutton, which illustrates the same subject by the eloquence of facts. Some of our readers may perhaps have seen the little girl, whose life was so wonderfully preserved. The following is Mr. Sutton's account of her deliverance:

"A poor woman, who had been confined on the journey, was attacked by this fatal scourge. Feeling herself unable to proceed, she sat down by the side of a bridge, with her helpless infant. Her companions of course left her to her fate. Short but sad is her history, and the history of her babe. She died, and was as usual devoured by the dogs and birds, while the black ants ate off the flesh from all the lower extremities of the child. In this mangled state, her cries attracted an English serjeant, who was travelling that way. He tried all that humanity could dictate to save the life of the infant, but after a fortnight's suffering, the poor thing expired. "On the arrival of the pilgrim party at Balasore, 150 miles from Jagannath, the wife of Nárayan-dás was seized with the dreadful cholera, and again the declaration of the Apostle was verified, that idolaters are without natural affection.' The husband abandoned the wife, and the father his child. Náráyan-dás was seen no more. Whether he fell a victim to the horrors of Puri, or survived again to reach his native village, is not known. Such however is the brutalizing tendency of these pilgrimages. The poor woman, on awaking one morning, found that the whole party had forsaken her. Thus, a stranger, seized by the ruthless cholera, with a feeble infant at her breast, she wandered to a neighbouring village, where she was informed medical aid could be obtained. Although, however, she reached the door of the celebrated doctor, who was indeed a fat, wealthy, bráhman, she could procure no assistance from him. How long she remained here is not certainly known. But it was so ordered in providence, that a Missionary went one evening to preach in the village. The poor woman and her child were then lying under a large tree. The day had been very rainy, and they were thoroughly saturated with the wet. He

soon ascertained the nature of her disease, and administered some medicine and brandy which he had with him. He pleaded long in vain for some food for the poor starving infant; no one would give him any, nor would one of the village women suckle it, which they might have done without prejudice to their caste, though any sum was offered as a recompense. At length, an egg-cup full of milk was procured, and never was a scene more pitiful beheld, than when the starving child crawled toward the Missionary, and looking up in his face, seemed to say, 'Oh Sir, pity me, pray pity me; I have no friend in the wide world but thee!' The Missionary had the poor woman removed to a neighbouring shed, where he attended her, and administered medicine to her for two or three days; but at the end of that time, she expired. When the Missionary perceived that the poor woman was fast expiring, he inquired of the wealthy bráhman, who was standing by, what was to be done with the child! To which the unfeeling monster replied with perfect indifference, 'O let it die too, what else.' (Sabhe mari jibu, aur kí.) The Missionary in vain offered to pay any expense connected with bringing up the child; nothing that he could say availed aught. The mother had about twenty rupees, and several silver ornaments, and the possession of these was what he and the police officers were anxious to obtain. This they effected, and were willing thus to avoid all trouble respecting the child.

"Seeing how matters were likely to go, the Missionary determined to save the little girl. She was then about six months old; so he took with him an old female servant, and intrusted the child to her protection. When the poor infant was brought into the verandah of his house, some rice-pudding was placed in a plate on the floor before her, while a spoon was sent for; but no sooner did the child perceive that it was food, than she crawled toward the plate, and helping herself with both hands, with the utmost greediness, would not suffer herself to be removed, until the whole was eaten up.

"As the Missionary had no children, the little foundling was soon adopted as a daughter. She is now a smart little girl of about six years of age, and is, with her foster parents, in America. May she live to return with them, and become a blessing to those benighted people, from whom she derived her existence!"

In the poetical department, the PEARL is less successful. Mr. MULLER'S "Babylon," gives promise of high excellence, and is nearly free from those harsh and unmusical lines, which too often disfigure that clever young writer's productions. The following verses entitle him to a high place in our Indian literature:

"Lo! Belshazzar, the pompous king,

Is enthroned in his banquet hall;
While countless lamps of Naphtha fling
Their radiance o'er the marble wall.

The pillars of porphyry gleam

With the fairy lustre of a dream,
And the Chaldee sits on his throne

Like a bright star beaming alone.
The riches of earth are around-

The wonders the young world has found-
Araby's spice and India's gold,

And the big, bright, diamonds of old,

And the pure pearls, brought from afar,

Out of the depths of the sea Manaar,

For, on that wall of spotless white,

A spectral hand is seen to write

Strange, glowing words, whose dazzling glare
In darkness throws the Naphtha there.
Now the star-wise seers are come,
But the oldest and best are dumb,-
A slave has read those words of fear,
But, to a reckless monarch's ear.

"Ho! on with the mirth and feast,-
What fear we of kings from the East?
Great Babylon's ramparts will show
We laugh at the work of the foe.
Let the wine still circle around,
And music and pleasure abound."
The cymbals dash, and the loud strain
Of the trumpet is heard again :
Again, the Georgian breathes her lay,
Seeming to warble her soul away:
Again, the voice of girls is heard,
In the laugh and the lightsome word,
And loudly the revellings ring

In the halls of Babylon's king.

Hark! there's a clash of arms and a cry of woe,

And a rush, like the rush of a coming foe."

We had marked for extraction "Serious Reflections," by Mr. DUNBAR, and some promising verses by Mr. DEARIE; but we can only find room for the following lines, by the Rev. Mr. PEARCE.

THE UNCONGENIAL CLIME.

"Dost thou inquire why Earth is reft of bliss?
Why dark and dreary as we find it is?
Why all around breathes not of life and joy?
Why care and grief the peace of man destroy?
Go, look around! Will tropic fruits and flowers
E'er thrive in arctic regions? Will the bowers
Of graceful palms, which ornament a plain
Of India, warm with sunshine, e'er retain
Their leafy pride, if, where chill icebergs lie
'Neath the cold glitter of the polar sky,

You should transplant them? No, oh no! they need
A genial heat that living juice to feed

Which every pore requires; without the ray
Of the warm sun, they languish, they decay.
And can we hope, in this our frigid clime,
This polar region circumscribed by time,
Round which sin forms a fog so cold and dense,
Heaven's genial rays are scarcely felt from hence,-
Where from the Sun of Righteousness the beams
Fall faint and cheerless, like those clear cold gleams
Of moonshine, which in wintry seasons give
Light with but little heat-that here should live,
And thrive, and flourish fruits and flowers which owe
Their birth to warmer regions, where they grow,
Fed by the brightness of the King of kings,

By heaven's pure airs, and heaven's perennial springs?
Alas! such flowers as Joy, and Peace, and Love,
Those rare exotics from the world above
Transplanted, need their native air to show
Primeval beauty;-here they may not blow,
But pale and sicken till the hand of Time
Place them again in their own glorious clime.
Since then on earth we must remain oppress'd
With sin and sorrow, nor attain our rest ;-
Since perfect joy, and purity, and love,
Will never flourish, save in heaven above;
Since ignorance will never cease to grieve
The soul that longs for knowledge, till we leave

This world of darkness for the realms of light,-
O, let us stretch our pinions for the flight!
Let us take heart at once a world to spurn
Where all is dead or dying;-let us burn
With anxious hopes of that high state of bliss,
Where all is peace, and life, and holiness."

The lighter portion of the volume contains a lively prose sketch, by Mr. STOCQUELER, and some good verses on Nature, by Captain CAMPBELL. The other pieces call for no particular comment. We can safely recommend the PEARL to our readers, as containing, along with some indifferent matter, much that is calculated both to amuse and to instruct.

2.-Brief Survey of History, Part II.

The second part of Mr. Marshman's work contains a brief sketch of the History of the World, from Augustus to Charlemagne. In a syllabus like this, not of new arrangements, or ingenious speculations, in science or philosophy, but of facts which follow each other in chronological succession, there is little room for display, and much for reading and research. Of these we find abundant evidence in Mr. Marshman's volume. It is written with great care and judgment; and the original remarks, occasion ally introduced, are evidently the fruits of a strong and cultivated mind. As an example of the manner in which the work is executed, we quote the following account of the measures employed by the Romans to consolidate and maintain their empire.

"Nothing was omitted, which wisdom and policy could suggest, to consolidate the Empire. It was the great object of the senate to blend the interest of the conquered with that of the conquerors; and hence the privileges of the citizens of Rome were gradually extended to the provincials, who were admitted to the various offices of government, till, in the lapse of one hundred years after Augustus, the highest honours in the empire were conferred on Trajan, by birth a Spaniard. But it was perhaps the colonies which the Romans planted, and the steady efforts they made to diffuse their own language, which formed the chief elements of the strength of the empire. Wherever, says one of the ancient writers, the Roman conquers, he inhabits. No sooner had the Romans subdued a district or a province, than they sent a numerous colony of their own citizens to people it. These colonies, spreading step by step over the empire, transplanted the language and civilization of Rome to its distant provinces. It was moreover the policy of the Romans to extend the use of their own language with the progress of their arms; the Roman was, therefore, throughout their empire, made the exclusive language of all the civil and military affairs of government. The result of this system was, that, in a few centuries, this language entirely superseded the indigenous tongues, throughout the half-civilized European provinces of the empire, and was extensively used in the Asiatic provinces. It must, however, be observed, that though the Romans made greater efforts than have been made by any people to impose their language on the conquered, and continued those efforts steadily through many centuries, they were never able to eradicate any written language, which was in possession of a literature of its own, (if, perhaps, we except the Punic.) Hence it was found, that at the close of four hundred years, the Greek and the Syriac languages were as extensively written and spoken as ever.

"The cities with which the empire was crowded, were so great in number, as almost to exceed belief. Asia Minor contained no less than five hundred populous cities; ancient Italy, eleven hundred and ninety-seven; and Gaul, more than twelve hundred. So eager were the Romans to inhabit the countries they had subdued by their arms, that in the narrow region in Judea beyond Jordan, within a hundred years after the country had been conquered by Pompey, ten magnificent cities were built by the Roman colonists; from which circumstance, the province was called Decapolis. What a contrast does this noble policy present to that of the British Government in India, where, after so long a possession, only three cities owe their growth to our rule !"