TILE CEO CKATAKER—T IIIRD SERIES.

THIS Volume is inferior in interest and attraction to its predeces- sors, partly from the difficulty of continuing a subject to fulfil the expectations of the reader, but still more from the exhaustion of the proper theme. In the first volume every thing was apt and natural as well as new. Samuel Slick, the travelling Yankee clockmaker, was a proper figure, as the painters say, fur the land- scape of Nova Scotia ; the natives were fitting acecAories ; the colonial subjects discussed were those which such a person would be most likely to handle, and in a quaint and homely way ; whilst the cant words in Slick's mouth, it' not possessing inherent wit, had that taking character which makes phrases pass 'current for a time. When he was carried, as in time second volume, into his own country, and discussed the religion, slavery, and many other mat- ters of the United States, with a passing commentary upon the outbreak in Canada and its future prospects, the scene was en- larged, but its general characteristics were pretty much the same. In the third series, not only are many of the topics less fitted for the discussion of Sam Slick, but they are such as no one greatly cares to hear discussed at all ; whilst the slang in which they are conveyed, having no peculiar fitness, looks fbreed and out of place. Mr. Ilasunuirrox has committed the same error as in his Bubbles (j. Canada and the Letter-Bag qf the Great 'Western—traded upon his name. IIe seems to think that a pointed style and a sarcastic humour, which no doubt enable hitn to make frequent hits, are a

s valid substitute for subjects and matter. The partly adventitious reputation he has achieved, owing much of its currency to the cant phrases of " human natur " and " soft sawdur," seems also to have inflated him ; and, to use cognate illustrations, " he does not think small beer of himself," nor is above "showing his thought."

The framework of the third series resembles that of the two former. Mr. Slick and his amanuensis, or reporter, the " Squire," meet at Ilitlithx, and journey together to New York, previous to em- barking for England; and the incidents fallen in with on the road furnish the topics of one-and-twenty chapters. Some of these chap- ters are on threadbare subjects, or on purely local moralities having little attraction here. A dozen pages are devoted to a diatribe against patriotism, and a long story about Dublin and the Irish Rebellion ; out of which grows another chapter upon an unburied nun, thrnishing not a story but a reverie. " 'Matrimony " is a balancing of' Mr. Slick's pros and eons, upon the subject with the minister of Slickville ; giving nothing but a richasff,i of smart old sayings, and closing with this remarkably novel axiom, " the cha- racter and conduct of the mother' is a sure and certain guarantee for that of the darter,"—printed in Italics; 'Air. llasantotrox im- pressing all his wise saws in that type, as it' they were Scripture texts.

Of the sections.on larger subjects, " Snubbing a Snob" is an ex- position by Slick of the value of colonies to the mother-country ; the theme being, that colonists use nothing, but home goods,—which IS imitated iii style from SY DNEI SMITH'S celebrated passage on the taxation of an Englishman ; but instead of the brevity of' the English wit, Mr. II A LIEU RTON overdoes his work till the highly artificial points become tiresome. " Knowing the Soundings," and the " Barrel without Hoops," are discussions on our home and colo- nial policy, or rather sermons expounding the Ilarsuvieros friit hi; the most sensible point in them being taken from ADA at Sorrti's remark, that the leading colonists are unconsciously driven into disloyalty because the colonial patronage oars no prospect to an ambitious man. " The Bad Shilling" contains remarks on some late commercial chauges in Nova Scotia, on the propriety of which we are not able to pronounce : they are distinguished by a shrewd, hard, worldly sense, and by the feelings of the old commercial System. " Trading in lied," is a satire With a moral upon the alleged dishonesty which the mania for speculating has introduced into the American character. " The Old Alinister " is an argument against the Voluntary principle. " The Great Unknown " seems to be a skit on Lord Duansat ; written probably betbre the death of that nobleman, but it had better have be suppressed now, for it is not a view of the whole of his public c acter, at Ilia every

public man whether alive or dead is fairly exi 1 to, but a mere caricature of personal weaknesses. " Playing .d" is a hit at professing politicians ; containing, like most of the other chapters, some powerful or humorous passages, but, like most of the others., overdone upon the whole. Here is one of the best samples.

TROUBLES OP A POLITICIAN.

III the course of our morning's drive, I happened to ask him if he interfered much in politics when be was at home at Sliekville. No, said he, not now.

I was once an Assembly-man, but since then I ginn up politicks. There is nothin' so well taken care of as your rights and privileges, Squire. There are always plenty of chaps volunteerin' to do that, out of pure regard for yon, ready to lay down their lives to fight your cause, or their fortins, if they had any, either. No ; I have given that up. Clockmakin' is a better trade by half. Dear, dear, I shall never forget the day I was elected: I felt two inches taller, and about a little the biggest man in all Sliekville. I knew so much was expected of me, I couldn't sleep a-tryin' to make speeches; and when I was in the shop I stilled half lily work by not havm my mind on it. Save your country, says one ; save it from ruin; cut down salaries. I intend to, says I. M atch the officials, Says another; they are the biggest rogues we have. It don't convene with liberty that public servants should be the mas- ters of the public. I quite concur with you, says I. Reduce lawyers' fees, says some ; they are a-eatin' up of the country like locusts. Jist so, says 1. A bounty on wheat, says the farmer, for your life. Would you tax the me- chanic to inrich the agriculturist ? says the manufacturer. Make a law agire thistles, says one; a regulator about temperance, says another; we have right to drink if we please, says a third; don't legislate too much, says a fourth ; it's the curse of the state,—and so on without eend. I was fairly bothered, for no two thought alike; and there was no pleasin' nobody. Then every man that voted for me wanted some favour or another ; and there was no bottom to the obligation. I was most squashed to death with the weight of my cares, they were so heavy.

" An Old Friend with a New Face" is a sort of incident from the life of an hypocritical fanatic ; exposing the rascality of the tribe, cen- suring the schisms in America, and introducing this good picture of

A RELIGIOUS GATUERING.

The meeting was held on the betterments of a new settler, near a bridge, to which several roads led, and which, from it central situation, was casy of access

from various parts of the country. Waggons, gigs, and cars without number,

were stationed near the fences and along. the line of the forest ; the horses be- longing to each carriage being unharnessed, and severally fastened by a halter to the axletree, for security. liere and there were tents and booths. giving the field the appearance of a military encampment ; and on the edge of the woods and under the shade of the giants of the forest, were numerous conical wig- wams, made after time fashion of the Indians, and resembling one of their sum- mer fishing establishments. In the centre of the clearing was a large barn, which was filled by a mixed and mottled multitude of people listening to the wild declamation of the preacher, whose voice was occasionally heard over the whole field, as he screamed out his frightful denunciations. Groups of men were scattered about the field, seated on the huge stumps which here and there dotted the surface of the ground, or perched on the upper rails of the wooden fence, discussing business or politics, or canvassing the doctrines or merits of the preacher ; while others were indolently lounging about the refreshment-

nbiliag away the time with cigars and mint-julep until they should be joined by their fair friends at the hour of intermission.

After some diaieulty, Mr. Slick and myself forced our way into the barn,

and fortunately obtained standiag-rooin on one of the seats, from which we

had a view of the isholi. interior. One preacher had just ceased as we entered. lie was succeeded by another, a tall, thin, and rather consumptive-looking man,

who bad a red silk pocket-handkerchief tied about Lis head, and wore no neck-

cloth. There was something quite appalling in his look. There Waa such a deep dejection in his countenance, such a settled melancholy, such a I.wk of total almstraetion and resignation to the endurance of some inevitable fate. tbat 1 was ffireibly reminded of the appearance of an unfortunate en aural when led out for cm:claim. Instantly all was hushed; every eye was upon hlm, and every ear in auxions solicitude to catch the almosc inaudible whispers that fell from his lips. Now and then a word was heard, and then a few unconnected ones, and shortly a few brief sentences or maxims. Presently his enunciation was clear and distinct ; and it gradually increased in volume and rapidity until it became painfully loud ; and then commenced gesticulation, emphasis. and raving. It was one unceasing, flow of words, without pause or interruption, except for an occasional draught of water front a stone 'dither that w3S placed heSith! him. EVell this, however, was insufficient to prevent exhatistion; and he removed his coat, lie then commenced the :-reat effort of his eloquence, a deseripti•in of the tortures of the damned. It was a studied rind frightful piece of declamation. in which he painted their wild demoniac slait ks, their blasphe- mous despair, their unquenched and unquenchable thirst—the boiling. steam- ing lake of brimstone—their unwillin- tenacity of e xiste nee, and increased sen,ibility of pain. When all the tieUres of speeelt and all hmis powers of ima- gination were exhausted, he finished the horrible' picture hy rIm,. iotroduction of ffillen anrels, who, with expanded Whigs, hovered for ever and ever over this awful abyss, whose business and pleasure was, as the boiling of the infernal cauldron brought any of the accursed to the surface, with spears of heated glowing metal to thrust them deeper allti further into the burning flood. The groans, sureams, and hysterical laughter of the female part of the audi- ence, was so frightful and appalling an accompaniment to this description, that my I.:clings became intensely painful ; and I was about leas Ii time lituhshi hg, when his voice suddenly dropped from the unnatural pitclm to Whiell be had at it, and sunk into a soft and sednetive tone, in wi iish. in the mildest and gentlest manner, be invited them to accompany him to ParodiFe which he de:aTilied, after the manner of the Mohammedans, as an abode furnished with all the delicacies and plea-mures suited to their senses and corporeal enjoy- ments. Ile then reimresented the infernal regions its the doom of those who belt■I■g.d not to tie" band ' ot whiell he was the head. in the absence ot its persecuted founder " Corcoran," and invited his hearers to fellowship.

" The Duke of Kent's Lodge." which opens the volume, is a reverie indulged in a deserted country-box that the Duke occupied when stationed in Nova Scotia ; and it displays Mr. II A1.11luarox'S P°'' r in serious composition. Take as an example these re. fictions on

A MODTRN RUIN.

A modern wooden ruin is of itself the least interesting end at time same time the most depressing object imagioshle. The massise struetures of anti- quity, that are everyWhCri tO ic Inct With ill Europe, exhibit the remains of great sir, ngth ; and thought injured and detlic.:mi bv the slow and almost im- perceptible agency of time, promise to continue thus motilated for ml Z5 to come. They awaken the images of departed generation& and Me !anctified by legend and hy tale. But a a ouden ruin shows rank and rapid aceay. con- centrates its interest on one family or one man, and resemble. a mangled corpse rather than the monument that covers it. It has no historical import- ance, no ancestral record. It awakens not the imaginatioa. The pact finds Ito inspiration in it, and the antiquary no Mterest. it al.:: only of death and &Tay, of recent calamity and vegetable decomposition. The verv air about it is close, dank, and unwholesome. It has no grace, no strength, no beauty, but looks deformed, gross, and repulsive. Even the faded colour of a painted wooden house, the tarnished gilding of its decorations, the corroded iron of its fastenings, and its crumbling materials, all indicate recent use and temporary habitation. It is but a short time since this mansion was tenanted by its royal master; and in that brief space how great has been the devasta- tion of the elemental A few years more, and all trace of it will have disap- peared for ever. Its very site will soon become a matter of doubt. The forest is fast reclaiming its own ; and the lawns and ornamented gardens, annually sown with seeds scattered by the winds from the surrounding woods, are re- lapsing into a state of nature, and exhibiting in detached patches a young growth of such trees as are common to the country.

The volume closes at New York, with Mr. Slick's being appointed Attache previous to embarking for England ; the letter conveying the fact of his promotion serving to introduce some obvious hits at Wir.ms, diplomatists, &c. Although the author indicates that this is most likely Mr. Slick's last appearance, there is no doubt that if skilfully managed in England—his remarks being confined to such subjects as appertain to him, or treated, when they are above him, in the style becoming such a person, and other characters being in- troduced for higher themes—the Clockmaker in London would be a telling publication, if Mr. HALIBURTON has gathered any thing to tell.