east we would recommend the continuance of gestation for
nine times the Horatian period. Seriously speaking, we always regret to
miss the general security which the title-page should give us, that in
what we buy, we shall have something for our money. A bad or inferior
book may, inadvertently, issue from the most respectable quarter. But
when a work is ushered into the light with such pomp and pageantry of
paper, printing, and getting up, as are here lavished, we hold that the
public have a right to expect that it has received the imprimatur of
some discerning judge, and to enforce the implied warranty that the
inside, as well as the outside, is a merchantable commodity in the
market of Parnassus.

But the publisher's part of it is the least of the evil. It is obvious
that the natives of Cockneyland are forgetting themselves. A new
generation has sprung up that do not remember the castigations bestowed
on their fathers of yore, and which for a time kept them in tolerable
subjection. A young Londoner, who happens to have enthusiasm, or
industry, or information, on a particular subject, may deserve
commendation for the laudable direction of his private studies; but is
he, therefore, entitled to _haspire_ to write, and not to write merely,
but to write poetry, and to disfigure a venerable old poem under
pretence of reproducing it? That is a different question, which needs to
be seriously and decidedly dealt with. This is not the first time,
within a brief period, that we have been compelled to make an example of
similar delinquencies; and, as sure as the crutch is in yonder corner,
it shall not be the last, if the nuisance be not speedily and completely
abated.

THE AMERICANS AND THE ABORIGINES

A TALE OF THE SHORT WAR. PART II.

The conclusion of our first notice of "The Americans and the
Aborigines," saw Hodges, the midshipman, on his way to the Mississippi,
and, if he could find it, to his ship; whilst Tokeah and his Indians
returned to their village upon the banks of the Natchez. There, upon the
day after the arrival of the warriors, we find the Indians assembled and
deliberating in their council-house. Some important matter is evidently
in agitation: an ominous gloom hangs over the village; and Canondah, to
whom her father has not spoken since his return, and who is in complete
ignorance of what passed between him and Hodges, is shut up in her
wigwam with Rosa. The absence of one of the Indians, sent as a