or some one or other of the Ranz des Vaches. Among the re giments of the different cantons, it is remarkable how many of

of Savoy in 1602. The memory of this deliverance is annually celebrated on the 12th of December. The longest piece in the collection, and which is supposed to have been written very soon after the event, is curious, as being one of the purest remaining specimens of the old romance language of Savoy. It appears to be essentially French, a good deal resembling modern Italian in the terminations of words. The French scholar will easily understand it by reading rather to the ear than the eye, as in attempting to read the provincial poetry of the West of England. For example. Its first words, which gave a name to the ballad, are, "Ce qu'è lains; a mere corruption for, ce que est là en haut.” The substance of the ballad is an account of the whole transaction, told with much low humour. We will cite a specimen. At one period of the action, the Duke believing himself to have suc ceeded, sent off a messenger with the news to Henry the 4th of France.

"Son Altesse en granda diligencè

Onna Pousta manda a Ray de France,
Que Zeneva il avivé surprai,

Que cela nai il y faré son liai.

"Vantre-cin gri, se di le Ray de France
Que Zeneva se sayé lassia prendré,
La mon cousin s'y est troi hasarda,
Y ne pourra pas guéro la garda."
"En memo tems onna lettrą arrivé,
Que le couda faré creva de riré,
Que desivé lou Savoiar son pray,
Lou Genevoi lou pendon on andray."

The Genevois appear to have used no great ceremony with those of the Savoyard noblesse, who fell into their hands on this occasion; they all, and in great numbers, fell by the common executioner. Henry IV. is again introduced, and a failing of the Duke's in his propensity to liquor, is not unhappily noticed.

"Vantre-cin-gri, ce di le Ray de France,

Lou Hollandoi, et le Prince d'Orange,
Qué deron-tai encora lous Angloi ?

Y se riron du Grand Duc de Savoi."

The Duke laments that he has lost the flower of his noblesse his heart becomes dry with grief, and exclaims,

Aporta mé on pou de Rosoli,

Apportez moi un peu de Rosolie."

Rosolio is at this day a favourite liqueur in the north of Italy, Piedmont, and Savoy.

the

the private soldiers are in the habit of singing in parts or in chorus these simple airs. In order to relieve the citizens in part from the burthen of garrison duty, it was usual with the provisional government of Geneva to admit small bodies of hired troops from other Cantons; in this way they received successively quotas from Friburgh, Soleure, and Appenzell; the entry and departure of these allies was usually a scene of great interest; and public singing in the streets was always one token of the popular enthusiasm. It is but recently that the Appenzellois have been recalled; on the evening previous to their departure they patrolled the streets singing in small parties in the manner above described; one of these parties, consisting of twelve, was invited by a gentleman into his house; a supper was placed before them, and wine allowed them freely. All these men were privates, yet they drank moderately, but sung a great variety of national hymns and songs; concluding with one, in the burthen of which they all rose, joined hands, and repeated "jurons de nous aimer toujours."

We owe an apology, perhaps, to our readers for the introduction of these anecdotes, but we think they go to establish the fact, that the national character of the Swiss, in this respect at least, is essentially the same as it ever was. At least they raise a doubt as to the truth of the contrary assertion.

Before we conclude this article, which has already exceeded the limits we had designed for it; it our duty to return for a few moments to Monsieur Tarrene. He might perhaps complain, that we had not fairly treated him, if we took no further notice of him. To the words of the airs he has added voluminous notes, which form, indeed, the bulk of his little treatise. These we have turned over with some attention, for the purpose of extracting something for his credit, and for the amusemect of our readers. At page 24, is a long, and learned note on pastoral poetry, at the conclusion of which is laid down the author's creed in all matters of taste:

"Cependant j'avouverai que je ne me suis jamais senti aucun goût pour les pastorales feintes, ou d'imitation, á commencer par les idylles de Theocrite. Tout cela presente á mon esprit je ne sais quoi qui lui deplaît, vraisemblablement á cause, que j'abhorre par caractére l'apprêt, et le gard en toutes choses, et que j'aime avec passion le simplicité dans toutes ses formes, et sous tous ses aspects."

This is followed by a note descriptive of the Alphorn, the usual accompaniment to the Ranz des Vaches, of which it will be proper to give some account. This is a wind instrument extremely simple in its construction, aud limited in the compass

of

of its powers. In shape it resembles a 'common cow's horn, and probably was at first literally nothing more. But its length is now ordinarily increased to six feet, with a spherical embouchure, and a moderate aperture at the other extremity. It is formed of bark, closely bound through the whole length with cord; of course it has no stops. We do not easily conceive, at first, how an instrument so rude and simple can be rendered subservient, with any effect, to the purposes of harmony. The fact is however certain, that aided by the circumstances of distance and echo, when skilfully managed, it forms a very delightful support to the voice, which it accompanies.

From page 74 to 78 is an account sufficiently detailed (if we could depend on its correctness) of the management of the Swiss dairy; but for the reason implied by our parenthesis, and on account of its extreme length, we forbear to extract it.

We shall now take our leave of Monsieur Tarrene. Our opinion of him and his work may be collected from what we have said of both; and we are sorry that we cannot form one more favourable to both; but it is our duty to disclose the worthlessness of a book, which, from its portable shape and neatness, as well as the nature of its subject, would probably meet with. many purchasers. If our readers can procure the German Collection, or the Selection published by Haller at Berne, they may well spare themselves the addition of the Researches of Mons. Tarrene.

So much for our author-but if we concluded with him we should omit the choicest treasure of his book, a note by the well-known Viotti, on what is called his Ranz des Vaches. We had some doubts at first, whether it would be quite fair to notice such a production, inserted, perhaps, without his consent or knowledge; but these were removed by observing, that it has already been printed more than once in works of considerable circulation on the continent; and by recollecting, that he who could write such a letter must be infinitely too magnanimous to regard our poor comments. Comment, however, we will not make, but leave a faithful translation of it to our readers' reflec tions, as the conclusion of the article.

"This Ranz de Vaches is neither the same with that which our friend Jean Jaques has made us acquainted with in his works, nor with that with which M. De la Borde speaks in his book on music.

"I know not if it is familiar to many people; all that I know is, that I heard it in Switzerland, and that I learned it never to forget

it more.

"I was walking alone, towards the decline of day, in those solemn scenes, where one never feels inclined to talk; the weather

was beautiful; the wind, which I detest (que je déteste) was at peace; all was calm, all was analogous to my feelings: and I carried within me that melancholy, which every day at this same hour concentrates my soul from the first moment of my existence.

"My thought was indifferent to my thoughts; it wandered, and my feet, followed it. No object had the preference of my heart; it was only prepared for that tenderness, and love, which since has cost me so many afflictions, and brought me acquainted with happiness. My imagination immobile (if I may so say) by the absence of the passions, was without movement.

"I went, I came, I ascended, I descended among those sublime mountains, chance at length conducted me into a valley, to which at first I paid no attention. It was not, till some time after, that I perceived, that it was delicious, and such as I had often seen described in Gessner; flowers, turf, streamlets-all was there, all made up a perfect picture there, and formed an harmony compleat. "There, I sat myself mechanically on a rock without being fatigued, and delivered myself up to that profound reverie, which I have experienced frequently during my life, that reverie, in which my ideas wander, mix, and confound themselves one with another to such a degree, that I forget, that I am still on the earth.

"I will not say what it is, that produces in me this species of ecstacy, whether it is the slumber of the soul, or rather the absence of the thinking faculties; I will only say that I love it, that I suffer it to carry me away; and that I would on no account wish to be free from it.

"There then I was upon the rock, when suddenly my ear, or rather my whole existence, was struck with certain sounds; now quick, and precipitated, now prolonged, and continuous, which came from one mountain, and fled to the other without being repeated by the echoes. It was a long trumpet; a female voice mingled itself with these sounds, sad, sweet, and touching; and formed a perfect unison. Struck as it were by enchantment, I rouse myself on a sudden, I start from my lethargy, shed some few tears, and learn, or rather I engrave in my memory the Ranz des Vaches, which I now send you."

With poor Marotte in the Precieuses Ridicules, we exclaim

"Dame ! je n'entends point le Latin, et je n'ai pas appris, comme vous, la filofie dans le lyre, il faut parler chretien, si vous voulez, que je vous entende,"

ART. III.-An Enquiry into the General Principles of Scripture Interpretation, in Eight Sermons, preached before the University of Oxford in the Year 1814, at the Lecture

founded

founded by Mr. Bampton. By W. Van Mildert, D.D. Regius Professor of Divinity, &e. 8vo. 421. pp. Parker; Oxford; Rivingtons, London. 1815.

FROM the dignity and importance of the subject matter, as well as from the peculiar circumstances of the times, the work before us has the strongest claim upon our critical attention. At no period since the establishment of the Church of England, has there been a more urgent necessity for vindicating and expounding the fundamental articles of Religion. Never was it more important to check the habit of wresting the language of Scripture, in support of every wild and fanciful error; and to lay down those sound laws of interpretation, which can alone lead us to a consistent knowledge of the written Word. Never, again, was there a time when flimsy and superficial declamation was more likely to pass with the world for original research; or when the most erroneous views of Christianity were presented under more plausible and attractive forms. In proportion to the prevalence of these alarming symptoms, the labors of the truly learned and orthodox clergy become more eminently useful. Such men indeed are loudly called upon, to stand forth as the champions of Religion; to reform the taste, and correct the prevailing errors of the day. They must convince the student, that he will never learn divinity by the assistance of a few religious novels and moral essays. Whatever may be the merit and utility of such compositions, they form no part of the library of a Divine. He must derive his knowledge from Scripture itself, the fountain of all truth-from the Fathers of the primitive Church-and from the ponderous volumes of such antiquated authors as Hooker, Barrow, Pearson, Leslie, Bull and Waterland. While he studies these admirable models of eloquence and argumentation, he will make himself acquainted also with the writings and characters of such men, as in the present day most nearly resemble those great originals. And he will soon find, for his encouragement, that notwithstanding the emptiness and frivolity, which are so frequently permitted to pass for talent, and to gain applause, much solid learning and integrity of principle yet remain. The Church of England (by the blessing of Providence) has still to boast of some, who are deeply versed in her constitution-whose knowledge of Scripture and antiquity enables them to defend her doctrine and discipline-and who are constantly employed in protecting the bulwarks of our sacred Zion against the errors of the weak and the designs of the malignant. We know how to estimate the value of such charac ters. And although, it is to be feared, the depth and variety of their attainments, their unaffected piety, and the force of their arguments