The Life and Times of Thomas Cranmer. By the Author of "Three Experiments of Living," "Life and Times of Mar tin Luther," &c. Boston Hilliard, Gray, & Co. 1841. 12mo. pp. 277.

WHERE this book is rightly judged, it will be valued. Every book, and every author, have a claim to be judged by their avowed or obvious design. It is the obvious design of this book, as of its predecessor, not to give information to scholars, not to create novelty or peculiar interest for those familiar with all sources of knowledge, nor yet to present a complete history, but to draw the attention of young and casual readers to some of the most important chapters and prominent men of the past, and by throwing around them a pleasant interest to awaken the desire of farther and thorough inquiry. So manifestly is this the design of these unpretending works, and so skilfully are they framed for that purpose, that we should not think of referring to it thus distinctly, but that objections have been made in seeming disregard of it, and a spirit of unreasonable demand. In the introduction to this volume, the author says "The same hope which animated the author of 'Luther and his Times,' has stimulated to this attempt, that others may be sufficiently interested in these sketches to induce them to study for themselves the histories of the German and the English reformation." A more honorable purpose there could not be. It is a duty which the more privileged owe to the less favored; and a duty which has been neglected. History is not read by common readers as it deserves, or as it would be if thus illustrated and made attractive. We have seen,

within a limited range, the good effects. We acknowledge for ourselves and others many obligations to the lady who has given her time and talents to a service apparently so humble. Few are so well qualified for this service.

The present seems to us a more successful effort than the former. Much as we enjoyed even the fictitious portions of Luther's narrative, considering their style and the plain purpose, we own there is a higher enjoyment in seeing the picture of a man or an age, as clear history presents it. So is it here. The author has kept to fact, in giving Cranmer's life and times. How far she has found or always exhibited the exact fact, will of course be a question with some, in regard to particular passages of that eventful period. The character of Cranmer is not an easy one to read, and is not read by all alike. His motives, it must be confessed, are subject to fair questioning. His integrity and nobleness are sometimes left

painfully in doubt. This doubt the author of the present sketch does not wholly remove. Nor does she attempt it. She inclines to the more favorable view; but by no means denies, or in the least palliates, his want of consistency, and occasional weakness of principle or deadness of conscience. There is an evident aim to be impartial, to give the strong and the weak parts. "We have seen Cranmer resolutely opposing the arbitrary will of Henry, in the bill of the six articles, and in the appropriation of the Catholic spoils; and here his cause was a noble one. We have seen him yielding to the persuasions of Counsellors and Doctors, in the case of Lady Jane Gray, when his convictions were wholly against their arguments, and it was weakness to yield. And we have seen him obstinate in condemning the miserable Jane Bocher to the stake, and resisting the mild and humane opposition of Edward, and, as we fully believe, the pleadings of his own heart." That the heart plead for justice and mercy, cannot lessen, but must aggravate his offence, who yet acts in direct violation of mercy and justice. The palliations, which the biographer here finds for this infirmity in Cranmer, are charitable, discriminating, and often strictly just, as it seems to us; but not always. We are not sure that selfishness or the least malignity can be charged upon the Archbishop. But there was unquestionably a criminal yielding to the selfishness and malignity of others; and this, we wish, had been more distinctly and emphatically marked. It is, however, but a matter of judgment, in which an extended investigation only can give one a right to confidence; and where there is not full knowledge or clearness, lenity is always nearest the right.

Of this most crowded and momentous era, the present, though a brief, is a comprehensive sketch. Beginning with the accession of Henry the Eighth, it delineates all the features of that bad man, in his six marriages and various policy, until his death, draws the beautiful character but short career of the good Edward, then the struggle that ensued for the crown, and so much of the reign of Bloody Mary' as came before the death of Cranmer. That death, so full of instruction, the charges, the trial, the imprisonment, the mournful recantation, the speedy repentance, and glorious end, are all touchingly described. We would give extracts, were there room, but can only offer one from the last scene. He is addressing the people, his judges and enemies, who came to triumph, and to make him repeat his recantation before they led him to the stake.

"He paused. Not a sound could be heard; every eye was fixed upon him, either in hope or exultation. His tears flowed anew."

"And now I come,' he continued, ' to the great thing that troubleth my conscience more than any other thing that I ever said or did through life. And that is, setting abroad of writings, contrary to the truth; which here I renounce and refuse, as things written with my hand, contrary to the truth; which I wrote for fear of death and to save my life, if it might be. And that is, all such bills which I have written or signed with mine own hand, since my degradation; wherein I have written many things untrue. And, forasmuch as my hand offended in writing, contrary to my heart, therefore, my hand shall first be punished. For, if I may come to the fire, it shall be first burned. And as for the Pope, I refuse him, as Christ's enemy and Antichrist, with all his false doctrine.'

"We may suppose the astonishment and consternation which prevailed, as soon as their tongues were loosed. They charged him with dissembling. Alas, my Lords,' said he, 'I have all my life been a man that loved plainness, and never dissembled till now against the truth, which I am most sorry for.'

"He might have gone on, for he now appeared like a new man; the brightness of his eye returned, the faint color rose to his pale cheek, the tears no longer fell. It seemed as if the load was taken from his heart. The inner man triumphed.

66

Again he attempted to speak, but the zealous friars rushed forward and tore him from the stage. As they conducted him to the stake, the populace ran after him, exhorting him, 'while time was, to remember himself.' He walked silently on, and, when he arrived at the stake, his face seemed radiant with faith and hope. There were no symptoms of the irresolution that had marked his character. They saw, that, to urge the recantation again was hopeless, and the friars said in Latin, one to another, 'Let us go from him; we ought not to be near him, for the Devil is with him.'

"He proceeded to divest himself of his outer garments, leaving only his shirt, which was long, reaching to his feet. He then offered his hand to those who stood near. One again cried to him, to agree to his former recantation. 'This,' said Cranmer, 'is the hand that wrote it; and, therefore, it shall first suffer punishment.'

"The faggots were placed around him, and fire set to them. As it crackled and arose, the wind blew it on one side. With a calm, fervent aspect, his face appeared lighted by the flames, as that of Moses is described upon the mount. He stretched forth his hand. "This is the hand that offended,' said he; and, deliberately placing it in the flames, stood unmoved, uttering no groan, and not discovering by his countenance any sensibility to pain. The flames kindled round him. More than once he was heard to say, 'Lord Jesus, receive my soul !'" - pp. 272–274.

The Rhode Island Book. Selections in Prose and Verse, from the writings of Rhode-Island Citizens. By ANNE C. LYNCH. Providence: H. Fuller, 40 Westminster-Street. Boston: Weeks, Jordan, & Co. 1841.

THE public are under obligations to the editors of the

Boston and Rhode-Island Books for some very agreeable volumes, and to the inventor, whoever he may be, of this new form of the Annual. The volume before us abounds in good writing, and pleasant reading. It is every way honorable to Rhode-Island. The Poetry, especially, strikes us as of an uncommonly high order. The following ballad, by Mr. Albert G. Greene, which, we remember, first appeared in the Knickerbocker, is enough of itself to confer distinction on the book.

"THE BARON'S LAST BANQUET.

O'ER a low couch the setting sun had thrown its latest ray,
Where in his last strong agony a dying warrior lay,
The stern old Baron Rudiger, whose frame had ne'er been bent
By wasting pain, till time and toil its iron strength had spent.

6 They come around me here, and say my days of life are o’er,
That I shall mount my noble steed and lead my band no more;
They come, and to my beard they dare to tell me now, that I,
Their own liege lord and master born, -that I, ha! ha! must die.

And what is death? I've dared him oft before the Paynim spear,
Think ye he's entered at my gate, has come to seek me here?
I ve met him, faced him, scorned him, when the fight was raging hot,—
I'll try his might — I'll brave his power; defy, and fear him not.

Ho! sound the tocsin from my tower, and fire the culverin, ·
Bid each retainer arm with speed, call every vassal in,
Up with my banner on the wall, the banquet board prepare,
Throw wide the portal of my hall, and bring my armor there!'

An hundred hands were busy then,

the banquet forth was spread, And rang the heavy oaken floor with many a martial tread, While from the rich, dark tracery along the vaulted wall, Lights gleamed on harness, plume, and spear, o'er the proud old Gothic

hall.

Fast hurrying through the outer gate the mailed retainers poured
On through the portal's frowning arch, and thronged around the board.
While at its head, within his dark, carved oaken chair of state,
Armed cap-a-pie, stern Rudiger, with girded falchion, sate.

'Fill every beaker up, my men, pour forth the cheering wine,
There's life and strength in every drop,- thanksgiving to the vine!
Are ye all there, my vassals true? mine eyes are waxing dim;.
Fill round, my tried and fearless ones, each goblet to the brim.

Ye're there, but yet I see ye not.
Draw forth each trusty sword,
And let me hear your faithful steel clash once around my board:
I hear it faintly:- Louder yet! What clogs my heavy breath?
Up all, and shout for Rudiger, 'Defiance unto Death!'

Bowl rang to bowl, — steel clanged to steel, and rose a deafening

cry,

That made the torches flare around, and shook the flags on high: 'Ho! cravens, do ye fear him? - Slaves, traitors! have ye flown? Ho! cowards, have ye left me to meet him here alone!

But I defy him: - let him come!' Down rang the massy cup, While from its sheath the ready blade came flashing half-way up; And with the black and heavy plumes scarce trembling on his head, There in his dark, carved, oaken chair, Old Rudiger sat, dead."

- pp. 66-68.

An Abridgment of Leverett's Latin Lexicon, particularly adapted to the Classics usually studied preparatory to a Collegiate Course. BY FRANCIS GARDNER, A. M., Instructer in the Public Latin Schools in Boston. Boston J. H. Wilkins and R. B. Carter. 1841. pp. 318.

THIS abridgment is intended to serve as a convenient and sufficient introduction to the larger and more copious work from which it is compiled. In literary, as well as in other pursuits, one of the greatest difficulties to be encountered by the beginner is his ignorance of the tools he is to work with. He is obliged to learn the use of his Grammar and Dictionary, which is often no easy labor. The difficulty, too, is not unlikely to be increased by the very perfectness of the elementary helps. The more minute and nice their arrangement may be, the more thought and judgment must they exact of the pupil. In the case of the Grammar the teacher may easily adapt the book to the age and capacity of the pupil by opening to his view at first only the more striking points, and gradually accustoming his mind to the more delicate distinctions and subtle elegancies of diction, as it may be able to apprehend them. But in a Lexicon there is no suppression. The whole or none must be presented to the student. He is in danger of being bewildered in a maze of examples, the proper application of which presupposes in him a considerable degree of familiarity with the language he is studying, and the power of tracing the analogies of thought and speech too often quite beyond his years. This case can be provided for only by an abridgment, in which the pupil may find all the proper and more palpable peculiarities of signification plainly and naturally set before him, while at the same time his mind is insensibly trained by the habitual use of a methodical system, for the right handling of the same in its more complete and minute development. Nor can the pupil be left to make his own abridgment, as