cerning the second part of Abercrombie's first primary truth, and we apprehend that those of his school will find it much easier to call them fallacious, sophistical, reasonings in a circle, &c., than to demonstrate their obscurity. The other primary truths, which he recognises, are very complicated ideas, and we think they ought not to be stated in a treatise on intellectual philosophy, where the professed object is to explain the origin of our thoughts, unless they are also analyzed, and their truth or falsity, or more properly, the reasons of their truth or falsity determined. For, we repeat it, the belief of one man, of a thousand men, or of all mankind, is no proof: though it may be entitled, from its prevalence, to a careful consideration,-to a consideration sufficient to determine the grounds of its certainty or fallacy.

On the whole, the work of Dr. Abercrombie must be considered as containing much useful information. The method of communicating the result of his researches, may not be the one best calculated to improve the science of ideas; but we have many valuable facts stated, which are especially important for the profession of which he is a member. With the exception of a few addresses to the passions and prejudices of the multitude, he pursues the course of a lover of truth, who is willing to have the sentiments which he adopts stand or fall by their merits. For the humble spirit of a Christian, which appears in many parts of his writings, he merits the respect of all. If some of his arguments are formed with little attention to vigor, we must remember that he did not write for the instruction of professors, but for many who cannot appreciate a course of reasoning that is not conducted in a popular manner. And besides, his inquiries were pursued, during the short and irregular intervals of his practice. There are many interesting anecdotes interspersed throughout the work, which afford amusement, and give a relief to the whole. The articles on reason, and the application of the rules of philosophical investigation to medical science, we propose to notice hereafter.

ART. X.-Swallow Barn.

Swallow Barn, or a Sojourn in the Old Dominion. 2 vols. 12mo. Philadelphia. 1832.

This is a work of great merit and promise. It is attributed to a gentleman of Baltimore, already advantageously known to the public by several productions of less compass, and in various styles, but all excellent in their respective ways. The present attempt proves that he combines, with the talent and spirit which he had previously exhibited, the resource, perseverance and industry, that are necessary to the accomplishment of extensive works. We do not know that we can better evince our friendly feeling for him than by expressing the wish, that the success which this production has met with may induce him to withdraw his attention from other objects, and devote himself entirely to the elegant pursuits of polite literature, for which his taste and talent are so well adapted, and in which the demand for labor,-to borrow an expression from a science, to which he is no stranger,-is still more pressing than in law, political economy, or politics.

The object of the work before us is to give, in the form of a novel, a description of the manners and customs of the ancient Commonwealth of Virginia: or, in the favorite phrase of its inhabitants,-the Old Dominion. Its value lies in the truth and spirit with which this purpose is effected. The texture of the fable is natural, and sufficiently ingenious, though from the nature of the plan, it does not excite a very deep and strong interest. Swallow Barn is the residence of Frank Meriwether, a wealthy Virginian landholder. An introductory epistle, which is addressed from this place by Mark Littleton to his correspondent Francis Huddlestone, Esq., at Preston Ridge, New York, informs us, that Mark, at the strong instance of his cousin, Ned Hazard, has been induced to come and spend some little fragment of his life among his Virginia relations.' It also gives the particulars of his travels from Longsides on the North River, where he had previously been residing with his mother and sisters, to the neighborhood of Jamestown, where Mr. Meriwether's estate is supposed to be situated. The opening chapters of the work make us acquainted with this personage and the several subordinate characters, male

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and female, who compose his family: his wife Lucretia, his son Rip, his daughters Lucy and Victorine, his sister Prudence, the house-keeper, Mrs. Barbara Winkle, the Presbyterian tutor, Mr. Chub, and last, though not least, a 'pragmatical old negro named Carey,' who seems, for many purposes, to be a sort of Viceroy over his master. We are next introduced, at some length, to Ned Hazard, the compagnon de voyage of the author, and the humorist and lover of the plot, after which the scene changes to The Brakes,-a neighboring plantation occupied by Mr. Isaac Tracy, whose daughter Bel turns out to be the heroine. The two principal characters of the work, considered as a mere novel, are thus brought into presence, and the art of the writer consists as usual in inventing expedients to keep them separate for the space of two volumes, and thus prevent, for the necessary length of time, a consummation that would bring the work to a premature close. We will not diminish the interest, which our readers will feel in following out the development of the story, by entering into a detail of the nature of these expedients, which are of a very natural and simple description. The difficulties that are brought into action for the purpose of obstructing the course of true love between the principal personages, which, in a novel, never can or ought to run smooth, as in real life we know that it never does, are in part their own wayward humors, they being little better than a modern Benedict and Beatrice, and in part a lawsuit of long standing between the parents. After a series of incidents and adventures, which are so contrived as to exhibit the life of a country gentleman in Virginia under almost all its aspects, public and private, the hero and heroine make up their minds,-the lawsuit is adjusted by a reference,-Mr. Littleton returns to Longsides, and the work terminates in the usual way.

Such are the general object and character of this production; the style of the execution will best appear from a few extracts. The first chapter is occupied by the following very graphic and amusing description of the mansion which furnishes the title of the work.

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Swallow Barn is an aristocratical old edifice, that squats, like a brooding hen, on the southern bank of the James River. It is quietly seated, with its vassal out-buildings, in a kind of shady pocket or nook, formed by a sweep of the stream, on a gentle acclivity thinly sprinkled with oaks, whose magnificent branches afford habitation and defence to an antique colony of owls.

"This time-honored mansion was the residence of the family of Hazards; but in the present generation the spells of love and mortgage conspired to translate the possession to Frank Meriwether, who having married Lucretia, the eldest daughter of my late uncle, Walter Hazard, and lifted some gentlemanlike incumbrances that had been silently brooding upon the domain along with the owls, was thus inducted into the proprietary rights. The adjacency of his own estate gave a territorial feature to this alliance, of which the fruits were no less discernible in the multiplication of negroes, cattle and poultry, than in a flourishing clan of Meriwethers.

"The buildings illustrate three epochs in the history of the family. The main structure is upwards of a century old; one story high, with thick brick walls, and a double-faced roof, resembling a ship, bottom upwards; this is perforated with small dormant windows, that have some such expression as belongs to a face without eye-brows. To this is added a more modern tenement of wood, which might have had its date about the time of the Revolution: it has shrunk a little at the joints, and left some crannies, through which the winds whisper all night long. The last member of the domicil is an upstart fabric of later times, that seems to be ill at ease in this antiquated society, and awkwardly overlooks the ancestral edifice, with the air of a grenadier recruit posted behind a testy little veteran corporal. The traditions of the house ascribe the existence of this erection to a certain family divan, where-say the chronicles-the salic law was set at nought, and some pungent matters of style were considered. It has an unfinished drawing-room, possessing an ambitious air of fashion, with a marble mantel, high ceilings, and large folding doors; but being yet unplastered, and without paint, it has somewhat of a melancholy aspect, and may be compared to an unlucky bark lifted by an extraordinary tide upon a sand-bank it is useful as a memento to all aspiring householders against a premature zeal to make a show in the world, and the indiscretion of admitting females into cabinet councils.

'These three masses compose an irregular pile, in which the two last described constituents are obsequiously stationed in the rear, like serving-men by the chair of a gouty old gentleman, supporting the squat and frowning little mansion which, but for the family pride, would have been long since given over to the accommodation of the guardian birds of the place.

'The great hall door is an ancient piece of walnut work, that has grown too heavy for its hinges, and by its daily travel has furrowed the floor with a deep quadrant, over which it has a very uneasy journey. It is shaded by a narrow porch, with a carved VOL. XXXVI.-No. 79.

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pediment, upheld by massive columns of wood sadly split by the sun. A court-yard, in front of this, of a semi-circular shape, bounded by a white paling, and having a gravel road leading from a large and variously latticed gate-way around a grass plot, is embellished by a superannuated willow that stretches forth its arms, clothed with its pendant drapery, like a reverend priest pronouncing a benediction. A bridle-rack stands on the outer side of the gate, and near it a ragged, horse-eaten plum tree casts its skeleton shadow upon the dust.

'Some lombardy poplars, springing above a mass of shrubbery, partially screen various supernumerary buildings around the mansion. Amongst these is to be seen the gable end of a stable, with the date of its erection stiffly emblazoned in black bricks near the upper angle, in figures set in after a fashion of the work in a girl's sampler. In the same quarter a pigeon box, reared on a post, and resembling a huge tee-totum, is visible, and about its several doors and windows a family of pragmatical pigeons are generally strutting, bridling and bragging at each other, from sunrise until dark.

'Appendant to this homestead is an extensive tract of land that stretchies for some three or four miles along the river, presenting alternately abrupt promontories mantled with pine and dwarf oak, and small inlets terminating in swamps. Some sparse portions of forest vary the landscape, which, for the most part, exhibits a succession of fields clothed with a diminutive growth of Indian corn, patches of cotton or parched tobacco plants, and the occasional varieties of stubble and fallow grounds. These are surrounded with worm fences of shrunken chestnut, where lizards and ground squirrels are perpetually running races along the rails.

'At a short distance from the mansion a brook glides at a snail's pace towards the river, holding its course through a wilderness of alder and laurel, and forming little islets covered with a damp moss. Across this stream is thrown a rough bridge, and not far below, an aged sycamore twists its complex roots about a spring, at the point of confluence of which and the brook, a squadron of ducks have a cruising ground, where they may be seen at any time of the day turning up their tails to the skies, like unfortunate gun-boats driven by the head in a gale. Immediately on the margin, at this spot, the family linen is usually spread out by some sturdy negro women, who chant shrill ditties over their wash tubs, and keep up a spirited attack, both of tongue and hand, upon sundry little besmirched and bow-legged blacks, that are continually making somersets on the grass, or mischievously waddling across the clothes laid out to bleach.