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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, February 1844 + Volume 23, Number 2 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: October 14, 2006 [EBook #19542] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + <div id="masthead"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page103" name="page103"></a>103</span></p> + <h1 class="issue_title">THE KNICKERBOCKER.</h1> + <table id="mastdate" summary="A cheat to display the masthead properly"> + <tr> + <td class="leftcell">Vol. XXIII.</td> <td class="centercell">February, 1844.</td> <td class="rightcell">No. 2.</td> + </tr> + </table> + </div><!--Masthead--> + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">SICILIAN SCENERY AND ANTIQUITIES.</h2> + <h3 class="byline">BY THOMAS COLE.</h3> + <p><span class="first_word">A few</span> months only have elapsed since I travelled over the classic land + of Sicily; and the impressions left on my mind by its picturesqueness, + fertility, and the grandeur of its architectural remains, are more + vivid, and fraught with more sublime associations, than any I received + during my late sojourn in Europe. The pleasure of travelling, it seems + to me, is chiefly experienced after the journey is over; when we can + sit down by our own snug fire-side, free from all the fatigues and + annoyances which are its usual concomitants; and, if our untravelled + friends are with us, indulge in the comfortable and harmless vanity of + describing the wonders and dangers of those distant lands, and like + Goldsmith’s old soldier, ‘Shoulder the crutch and <em>show</em> how fields + were won.’ I was about to remark, that those who travel only in books + travel with much less discomfort, and perhaps enjoy as much, as those + who travel in reality; but I fancy there are some of my young readers + who would rather test the matter by their own experience, than by the + inadequate descriptions which I have to offer them.</p> + <p>Sicily, as is well known, is the largest island in the Mediterranean + Sea. It was anciently called Trinacria, from its triangular shape, and + is about six hundred miles in circumference. Each of its extremities + is terminated by a promontory, one of which was called by the ancients + Lilybeum, and faces Africa; another called Pachynus, faces the Peloponessus + of Greece; and the third, Pelorum, now Capo di Boco, faces + Italy. The aspect of the country is very mountainous: some of the + mountains are lofty; but towering above all, like an enthroned spirit, + rises Ætna. His giant form can be seen from elevated grounds in the + most remote parts of the island, and the mariner can discern his snowy + crown more than a hundred miles. But Sicily abounds in luxuriant + plains and charming valleys, and its soil is proverbially rich: it once + bore the appellation of the Granary of Rome; and it is now said that + if properly tilled it would produce more grain than any country of its size + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page104" name="page104"></a>104</span>in the world. Its beauty and fertility were often celebrated by ancient + bards, who described the sacred flocks and herds of Apollo on its delightful + slopes. The plain of Enna, where Proserpine and her nymphs + gathered flowers, was famous for delicious honey; and according to an + ancient writer, hounds lost their scent when hunting, in consequence of + the odoriferous flowers which perfumed the air; and this may be no + fable; for in Spring, as I myself have seen, the flowers are abundant and + fragrant beyond description; and it seemed to me that the gardens of + Europe had been supplied with two-thirds of their choicest treasures + from the wild stores of Sicily.</p> + <p>The history of Sicily is as varied and interesting as the features of + its surface; but of this I must give only such a brief and hurried sketch + as, to those who are not conversant with it, will serve to render the scenes + I intend to describe more intelligible and interesting than they otherwise + would be. Its early history, then, like that of most nations of antiquity, + is wrapped in obscurity. Poets feign that its original inhabitants were + Cyclops; after them the Sicani, a people supposed to have been from + Spain, were the possessors; then came the Siculi, a people of Italy. The + enterprising Phœnicians, those early monarchs of the sea, whose ships + had even visited the remote and barbarous shores of Britain, formed + some settlements upon it; and in the eighth century before Christ + various colonies of Greeks were planted on its shores, and became in + time the sole possessors of the island. These Grecian founders of Syracuse, + Gela, and Agrigentum, seduced from their own country by the + love of enterprise, or driven by necessity or revolution from their homes, + brought with them the refinement, religion, and love of the beautiful, + that have distinguished their race above all others; and in a short time + after their establishment in Sicily, the magnificence of their cities, the + grandeur of their temples, equalled if they did not surpass those of their + fatherland. About the year 480 before Christ, a fierce enemy landed on + the coast of Sicily with two thousand gallies: this was the warlike Carthaginian, + whose altars smoked with the sacrifice of human victims. + This formidable invader was defeated under the great Gelon of Syracuse, + who was called the father of his country; but the Carthaginians, returned + again and with better fortune, at length became masters of the + island. The Romans next conquered Sicily, and held it for several + centuries. The Saracens in the ninth century were in the full tide of + successful conquest. They landed first in the bay of Mazara, near + Selinuntium, and after various conflicts and fortune, finally subjugated + the whole island in the year 878. The crescent continued to glitter + over the towers of Sicily for about three centuries, when the Normans, + a band of adventurers whom the crusades of the Holy Sepulchre had + brought from their northern homes, after a conflict of thirty years under + Count Roger, expelled the Saracen in the year 1073, and planted the + banner of the cross in every city of the land. Soon after that time it + came under Spain and Austria; France and England have severally + been its rulers. It is now under the crown of Naples.</p> + <p>Such is a brief outline of the eventful history of Sicily; a land + formed by nature in her fairest mould; but which the crimes and ambition + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page105" name="page105"></a>105</span>of men have desecrated by violence, oppression, and bloodshed; + and with the substitution of a word, one might exclaim with the poet:</p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">‘<span class="special_name">Sicilia</span>! <span class="special_name">O Sicilia</span>! thou who hast</p> + <p class="i2">The fatal gift of beauty, which became</p> + <p class="i2">A funeral dower of present woes and past,</p> + <p class="i2">On thy sweet brow is sorrow ploughed by shame,</p> + <p class="i2">And annals graved in characters of flame.</p> + <p class="i2">Oh <span class="special_name">God</span>! that thou wert in thy nakedness</p> + <p class="i2">Less lovely or more powerful, and couldst claim</p> + <p class="i2">Thy right, and awe the robbers back who press</p> + <p>To shed thy blood, and drink the tears of thy distress!’</p> + </div> + </div> + <p>The aspect of Sicily is widely different from that of this country; + its beauty is dependent on other forms and associations. <em>Here</em>, we have + vast forests that stretch their shady folds in melancholy grandeur; the + mountain tops themselves are clad in thick umbrage, which, rejoicing + in the glory of the autumnal season, array themselves in rainbow dyes. + <em>There</em>, no wide forests shade the land; but mountains more abrupt than + ours, and bearing the scars of volcanic fire and earthquake on their + brows, are yet clothed with flowers and odoriferous shrubs. The plains + and slopes of the mountains are now but partially under cultivation; + vineyards and olive-groves generally clothe the latter, while over the + gentler undulating country, or the plains, fenceless fields stretch far + away, a wilderness of waving grain, through which the traveller may + ride for hours nor meet a human being, nor see a habitation, save when + he lifts his eyes to some craggy steep or mountain pinnacle, where + stands the clustered village. The villages and larger towns are generally + set among groves of orange, almond, and pomegranate trees, with + here and there a dark Carruba, or Leutisk tree, casting its ample shade. + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page106" name="page106"></a>106</span>Fields of the broad bean, the chief food of the laboring classes, serves + at times to vary with vivid green the monotony of the landscape. The + traveller rolls along over no Macadamised road in his comfortable carriage, + but mounted on his mule, leaves him to choose his own track + among the numerous ones that form what is called the <i>strada-maëstro</i>, + or master-road, between city and city. Here and there he will come to + a stone fountain, constructed perhaps centuries ago, which still furnishes + a delightful beverage for himself and beast. Oftentimes the road leads + through a country entirely waste, and covered with tall bunches of grass + or the dwarfish palmetto; sometimes in the cultivated districts the road + is bounded by the formidable prickly-pear, which grows to the height + of twenty feet, or by rows of the stately aloe, and not unfrequently by + wild hedges of myrtle, intertwined with innumerable climbing plants, + whose flowers the traveller can pick as he rides along. Generally the + road-side is perfectly enamelled with flowers of various hue and fragrance. + No majestic river, like the Hudson, spreads before him, with + all its glittering sails and swift steam-boats; but ever and anon the + blue and placid Mediterranean bounds his vision, or indents the shore, + with here and there a picturesque and lazy barque reflected in the waves.</p> + <p>I have before said that the towns and villages are generally perched + like eagles’ nests in high places. This is particularly the case with + those of the interior: many of them are inaccessible to carriages, except + the <i>Letiga</i>, a sort of large sedan-chair, gaudily decorated with pictures + of saints, and suspended between two mules, one of which trots before + and the other behind, to the continual din of numerous bells and the + harsh shouts of the muleteers. I never saw one of these vehicles, + which are the only travelling carriages of the interior of Sicily, without + thinking that there might be a <em>land-sickness</em> even worse than a sea-sickness; + for the motion of the letiga in clambering up and down the + broken steeps must be far more tempestuous than any thing ever experienced + at sea. Between village and village you see no snug villa, + farm-house, or cottage by the road-side, or nestling among the trees; + but here and there a gloomy castellated building, a lonely ruin or stern + Martello tower, whose dilapidated walls crown some steep headland, + against whose base washes the ever-murmuring waves. Now the traveller + descends to the beach, his only road; the mountains are far inland, + or dip their broad bases in the sea-foam, or impend in fearful masses + over his head. He ascends again, and journeys over wastes which + undoubtedly in the time of the Greek and the Roman were covered + with fruits and grain; but which now are treeless and desolate as the + deep whose breezes stir the flowers that deck them. At times he must + ford streams, which, if swollen with late rains, are perilous in the + extreme.</p> + <p>I remember once on my journey descending from one of those treeless + wastes upon a spot very different from any thing on this side of the + Atlantic. It was called Verdura, from its green and verdant character. + A stream which flowed through a plain bounded by lofty mountains here + fell into the sea. A large mill, which much resembles an ancient castle, + and in all probability had served both purposes in times gone by, stood + near. Upon the sandy beach close by, and hauled entirely out of the + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page107" name="page107"></a>107</span>water, lay several vessels in the style of Homer’s ships; and I have + no doubt bore a strong resemblance to ships of ancient time, for they + were picturesquely formed, and painted fantastically with figures of + fishes and eyes. The wild-looking mariners were lounging lazily about + in their shaggy capotes, or engaged in loading their vessels with grain, + the product of the neighboring plains. Up the steep we had just descended + a letiga was slowly winding; and on a green declivity overlooking + the sea, a flock of goats were browsing, and their shepherd + reclined near in listless idleness. Open and treeless as was this scene, + there was such a peaceful character about it, such an air of primitive + simplicity, that it made a strong impression on my mind.</p> + + <p>It does not come within the scope of this paper to offer any description + of the larger cities of Sicily, Palermo, Messina, etc. Most readers + have seen accounts of them more ample and more interesting than I + could offer. Of the smaller places I must content myself with giving + a very general description, so that I may retain the requisite space, in + this division of my article, for some notice of an ascent which I made + to the sublime summit of Mount Ætna.</p> + <p>The secondary towns to which I have alluded, such as Calatifini, + Sciacca, Caltagerone, etc., are in general picturesquely situated, and + are built in a massive and sometimes even in a magnificent style. The + churches and houses are all of hewn stone, and exhibit the various + styles of architecture of the builders; the Saracenic, the Norman-Gothic, + or the later Spanish taste. Sometimes the styles are fantastically + intermixed; but the whole, to the architect, is extremely interesting. + Flat roofs and projecting stone balconies from the upper windows + are perhaps the most characteristic features of the houses. The + churches, though large, are seldom beautiful specimens of architecture; + and the interior is in general extremely ornate, and decorated with gaudy + gilding and pictures, and images of <span class="special_name">Christ</span> and saints, disgustingly + painted. The streets, wide or narrow, would appear to us somewhat + gloomy and prison-like; and paint is a thing scarcely known on the + exterior or perhaps interior of an ordinary house. The air of the interior + of the common houses of the Sicilian towns is as gloomy and comfortless + as can be imagined. A few wooden benches, a table firmly + fixed in the stone pavement, a fire-place composed of a few blocks of + stone placed on the floor, the smoke of which is allowed to make its + escape as it best can at the window, which is always destitute of glass, + and is closed by a rude wooden shutter when required; a bed consisting + of a mattress of the same hue as the floor, raised a few feet from it + by means of boards on a rude frame; some sheep-skins for blankets, and + sheets of coarse stuff whose color serves as an effectual check on the + curiosity of him who would pry too closely into its texture; are the + chief articles of furniture to be found in the habitations of the Sicilian + poor. Beside the human inhabitants of these uninviting abodes, there + are innumerable lively creatures, whose names it were almost impolite + to mention in polished ears; and I might not have alluded to them had + they confined themselves to such places; but they rejoice in the palace + as well as in the cottage, and to the traveller’s sorrow inflict themselves + without his consent as travelling companions through the whole Sicilian + tour.</p> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page108" name="page108"></a>108</span>The houses of the more wealthy are spacious and airy, but not much + superior in point of comfort. They are often of commanding exterior, + and are called <i>palazzi</i>, or palaces. Of course, there are exceptions to + this general character of discomfort; but judging from my own observation, + they are few. On approaching a Sicilian village, the eye of the + traveller will almost surely be attracted by a capacious and solid building, + surmounted by a belfry-tower, and commanding the most charming + prospect in the vicinity. It is surrounded with orange groves and + cypress-trees, and looks like a place fitted for the enjoyment of a contemplative + life. He will not long remain in doubt as to the purpose of the + building whose site is so delightfully chosen; for walking slowly along + the shady path, or seated in some pleasant nook, singly or in groups, he + will perceive the long-robed monks, the reverend masters of the holy + place.</p> + + <p>Connoisseurs say that a landscape is imperfect without figures; and as + that is the case in a picture, it is most probably so in a magazine article; + and the reader might complain if I were to neglect giving some + slight outlines of the figures of the Sicilian landscape. In travelling + from city to city, although they may not be more than twenty miles + apart, the wayfarer meets with very few persons on the road; seldom an + individual, and only now and then, at an interval of miles, a group of + men mounted on mules, each person carrying a gun; or perhaps a convoy + of loaded mules and asses with several muleteers, some mounted + and some on foot, who urge by uncouth cries and blows the weary beasts + over the rocky or swampy ground, or up some steep acclivity or across + some torrent’s bed. At times he will see a shepherd or two watching + their flocks; these are half-naked, wild looking beings, scarcely raised + in the scale of intelligence above their bleating charge. Their dwelling + may be hard by, a conical hut of grass or straw, or a ruined + tower. On the fertile slopes or plains he will sometimes observe a + dozen yokes of oxen ploughing abreast. The laborers probably chose + this contiguity for the sake of company across the wide fields. If the + grass or grain is to be cut, it is by both men and women armed with a + rude sickle only. It is seldom you meet either man or woman on foot + upon the roads; men scarcely ever. Donkeys are about as numerous + as men, and their ludicrous bray salutes your ear wherever the human + animal is to be seen.</p> + + <p>The peasant-women through a great part of Sicily wear a semi-circular + piece of woollen cloth over their heads; it is always black or white, + and hangs in agreeable folds over the neck and shoulders. There is but + little beauty among them; and alas! how should there be? They are + in general filthy; the hair of both old and young is allowed to fall in + uncombed elf-locks about their heads; and the old women are often + hideous and disgustful in the extreme. The heart bleeds for the women: + they have more than their share of the labors of the field; they have + all the toils of the men, added to the pains and cares of womanhood. + They dig, they reap, they carry heavy burthens—burthens almost incredible. + In the vicinity of Ætna I met a woman walking down the + road knitting: on her head was a large mass of lava weighing at least + thirty pounds, and on the top of this lay a small hammer. Being puzzled + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page109" name="page109"></a>109</span>to know why the woman carried such a piece of lava where lava + was so abundant, I inquired ‘the wherefore’ of Luigi, our guide. He + answered that as she wished to knit, and not having pockets, she had + taken that plan to carry the little hammer conveniently. That piece of + stone, which would break our necks to carry, was evidently to her no + more than a heavy hat would be to us. It may be thought that I draw + a sorry picture of these poor Islanders; but I would have it understood + that on the side of Messina, and some other parts, there is apparently a + little more civilization; but they are an oppressed and degraded peasantry; + ignorant, superstitious, filthy, and condemned to live on the coarsest + food. They are as the beasts that perish, driven by necessity to sow that + which they may not reap. How applicable are the words of <span class="special_name">Addison</span>:</p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">How</span> has kind Heaven adorn’d the happy land</p> + <p>And scattered blessings with a wasteful hand!</p> + <p>But what avails her unexhausted stores,</p> + <p>Her blooming mountains and her sunny shores,</p> + <p>With all the gifts that heaven and earth impart,</p> + <p>The smiles of nature and the charms of art,</p> + <p>While proud oppression in her valleys reigns,</p> + <p>And tyranny usurps her happy plains?</p> + <p>The poor inhabitant beholds in vain</p> + <p>The reddening orange and the swelling grain:</p> + <p>Joyless he sees the growing oils and wines,</p> + <p>And in the myrtle’s fragrant shade repines:</p> + <p>Starves, in the midst of nature’s bounty curst,</p> + <p>And in the loaded vineyard dies of thirst.’</p> + </div> + </div> + <p>But the Sicilians are <em>naturally</em> a gay, light-hearted people, like the + Greeks, their forefathers; and if the cloud which now rests upon them + were removed, and we have reason to think it is lifting, they would be + as bright and sunny as their own skies. The women of the better classes + wear the black mantilla when they venture into the streets, which they + seldom do, except to attend mass or the confessional. This robe is extremely + elegant, as it is worn, but it requires an adept to adjust it gracefully. + It covers the whole person from head to foot; in parts drawn + closely to the form, in others falling in free folds. But for its color, I + should admire it much: it seems such an incongruity for a young and + beautiful female to be habited in what appear to be mourning robes. I + was often reminded of those wicked lines of <span class="special_name">Byron</span>’s on the gondola:</p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘For sometimes they contain a deal of fun,</p> + <p>Like mourning-coaches when the funeral’s done.’</p> + </div> + </div> + <p>But let us turn from the animate to the inanimate, and visit the famous + Ætna, called by the Sicilians <i>Mongibello</i>. From the silence of Homer + on the subject, it is supposed that in his remote age the fires of the mountain + were unknown; but geologists have proof that they have a far + more ancient date. The Grecian poet Pindar is the first who mentions + its eruptions. He died four hundred and thirty-five years before <span class="special_name">Christ</span>; + from that time to this, at irregular intervals, it has vomited forth its + destructive lavas. It is computed to be eleven thousand feet high. Its + base, more than an hundred miles in circumference, is interspersed + with numerous conical hills, each of which is an extinct crater, whose + sides, now shaded by the vine, the fig tree, and the habitations of man, + once glowed with the fiery torrent. Some of them are yet almost destitute + of vegetation; mere heaps of scoriæ and ashes; but the more + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page110" name="page110"></a>110</span>ancient ones are richly clad with verdure. Let the reader imagine a + mountain whose base is as broad as the whole range of the Catskills, + as seen from Catskill village, rising to nearly three times their height; + its lower parts are of gentle ascent, but as it rises it becomes more + and more steep, until it terminates in a broken summit. Imagine it + divided, as the eye ascends, into three regions or belts: the first and + lowest is covered with villages, gardens, vineyards, olive-groves, oranges, + and fields of grain and flax, and the date-bearing palm. The second + region, which commences about four thousand feet above the sea, is + called the <i>Regione Sylvosa</i>, or woody region. Here chestnuts, hexes, + and on the north pines of great size flourish. This belt reaches to the + elevation of about seven thousand feet, where the <i>Regione Scoperta</i>, or + bare region, commences. The lower part of this is intermingled lava, + rocks, volcanic sands, and snow; still higher are vast fields of spotless + snow, which centuries have seen unwasted, with here and there a ridgy + crag of black lava, too steep for the snows to lodge upon; and toward + the summit of the cone, dark patches of scoriæ and ashes, which, heated + by the slumbering fires, defy the icy blasts of these upper realms of + air. It will readily be supposed that, when viewed from a distance, + Mount Ætna is an object to make a deep impression on the mind:</p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">But</span> for yon filmy smoke, that from thy crest</p> + <p>Continual issues like a morning mist</p> + <p>The sun disperses, there would be no sign</p> + <p>That from thy mighty breast bursts forth at times</p> + <p>The sulphurous storm—the avalanche of fire;</p> + <p>That midnight is made luminous, and day</p> + <p>A ghastly twilight, by thy lurid breath.</p> + <p>By thee tormented, Earth is tossed and riven:</p> + <p>The shuddering mountains reel; temples and towers</p> + <p>The works of man, and man himself, his hopes</p> + <p>His harvests, all a desolation made!</p> + <p>Sublime art thou, O Mount! whether beneath</p> + <p>The moon in silence sleeping with thy woods,</p> + <p>And driving snows, and golden fields of corn;</p> + <p>Or bleat on thy slant breast the gentle flocks,</p> + <p>And shepherds in the mellow glow of eve</p> + <p>Pipe merrily; or when thy scathéd sides</p> + <p>Are laved with fire, answered thine earthquake voice</p> + <p>By screams and clamor of affrighted men.</p> + <p>Sublime thou art!—a resting-place for thought,</p> + <p>Thought reaching far above thy bounds; from thee</p> + <p>To <span class="special_name">Him</span> who bade the central fires construct</p> + <p>This wondrous fabric; lifted thy dread brow</p> + <p>To meet the sun while yet the earth is dark,</p> + <p>And ocean, with its ever-murmuring waves.</p> + </div> + </div> + <p>On the ninth of May, myself and travelling companion commenced + the ascent of Mount Ætna; and as the season was not the most favorable, + the snows extending farther down the sides of the mountain than in + summer, we were equipped, under the direction of our guide, with coarse + woollen stockings to be drawn over the pantaloons, thick-soled shoes, + and woollen caps. Mounting our mules, we left Catania in the morning. + The road was good and of gradual ascent until we reached Nicolosi, + about fourteen miles up the mountain. We saw little that was particularly + interesting on our route except that the hamlets through which we + passed bore fearful evidences of the effects of earthquake. Arrived at + Nicolosi, the place where travellers usually procure guides and mules + for the mountain, it was our intention to rest for the remainder of the + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page111" name="page111"></a>111</span>day; but Monte Rosso, an extinguished crater, being in the vicinity, + my curiosity got the better of my intention to rest, and I sallied forth to + examine it. The road lay through the village, which is built of the + lava, and is arid and black, and many of the buildings rent and twisted. + Monte Rosso was formed by the eruption of 1669, which threw out a torrent + of lava that flowed thirteen miles, destroying a great part of the city + of Catania in its resistless course to the sea, where it formed a rugged + promontory which at this day appears as black, bare, and herbless as + on the day when its fiery course was arrested by the boiling waters. + And here I would remark, that the lavas of Ætna are very different + from those of Vesuvius. The latter decompose in half a century, and + become capable of cultivation; those of Ætna remain unchanged for + centuries, as that of Monte Rosso testifies. It has now been exposed to + the action of the weather nearly two hundred years, with the exception + of the interstices where the dust and sand have collected, it is destitute + of vegetation. Broken in cooling into masses of rough but sharp fracture, + its aspect is horrid and forbidding, and it is exceedingly difficult to + walk over. If two centuries have produced so little change, how <em>many</em> + centuries must have served to form the rich soil which covers the greater + part of the mountain’s sides and base!</p> + <p>Our purpose was to see the sun rise from the summit of Ætna; and + at nine in the evening, our mules and guides being ready, we put on + our Sicilian capotes, and sallied forth. We had two guides, a muleteer, + and as there was no moon, a man with a lantern to light the mules in + their passage over the beds of lava. For several miles the way was + uninteresting, it being too dark to see any thing except the horrid lava or + sand beneath the feet of the mules. At times the road was so steep that + we were ordered by our guides to lean forward on the necks of the mules, + to keep them and ourselves from being thrown back. At length we entered + the woody region. Here the path was less rocky; and as we + wound up the mountain’s side, beneath the shadows of noble trees, I could + not but feel the solemn quietness of a night on Ætna, and contrast it + with what has been and what will in all probability be again, the intermitting + roar of the neighboring volcano, and the dreadful thunder of + the earthquake. At midnight we arrived at the <i>Casa delle Neve</i>, or + House of Snow. This is a rude building of lava, with bare walls, entirely + destitute of furniture. We made a fire on the ground, took + some refreshments which we had brought with us, and in about an hour + remounted our mules, and proceeded on our journey. We soon left + the region of woods; and being now at an elevation of seven thousand + feet above the sea, felt somewhat cold, and buttoned our capotes + closer about us. From the ridges of lava along which we rode, by + the light of the stars which now became brilliant, we could discern + the snow stretching in long lines down the ravines on either hand; and + as we advanced, approaching nearer and nearer, until at length it spread + in broad fields before us. As the mules could go no farther, we dismounted, + and taking an iron-pointed staff in our hands, we commenced + the journey over the snows. It was now half-past one, and we had + seven miles to traverse before reaching the summit. The first part of the + ascent was discouraging, for it was steep, and the snow so slippery that + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page112" name="page112"></a>112</span>we sometimes fell on our faces; but it became rather less steep as we + ascended, and though fatiguing, we got along comfortably. As the atmosphere + was becoming rare, and the breathing hurried, we sat on the + snow for a few minutes now and then. At such times we could not but + be struck with the splendor of the stars, far beyond any thing I had + ever seen. The milky way seemed suspended in the deep heavens, like + a luminous cloud, with clear and definite outline. We next arrived at + the <i>Casa degli Inglese</i>; so called, but alas for us! the ridge of the roof + and a part of the gable were all that rose above the snow. In the + midst of summer, travellers may make use of it; but to us it was unavailing, + except the gable, which served in a measure to shield us from + the icy wind which now swept over the mountain. We again partook + of a little refreshment, by way of preparation for the most arduous part + of our undertaking, and were now at the foot of the great cone. The + ascent was toilsome in the extreme. Snow, melted beneath in many + places by the heat of the mountain; sharp ridges of lava; loose sand, + ashes, and cinders, into which last the foot sank at every step, made the + ascent difficult as well as dangerous. The atmosphere was so rare that + we had to stop every few yards to breathe. At such times we could hear + our hearts beat within us like the strokes of a drum. But it was now + light, and we reached the summit of the great cone just as the sun rose.</p> + <p>It was a glorious sight which spread before our eyes! We took a + hasty glance into the gloomy crater of the volcano and throwing ourselves + on the warm ashes, gazed in wonder and astonishment. It would + be vain for me to attempt a description of the scene. I scarcely knew + the world in which I had lived. The hills and valleys over which we + had been travelling for many days, were comprised within the compass + of a momentary glance. Sicily lay at our feet, with all its ‘many + folded’ mountains, its plains, its promontories, and its bays; and round + all, the sea stretched far and wide like a lower sky; the Lipari islands, + Stromboli and its volcano, floating upon it like small dusky clouds; and + the Calabrian coast visible, I should suppose, for two hundred miles, + like a long horizontal bank of vapor! As the sun rose, the great + pyramidal shadow of Ætna was cast across the island, and all beneath + it rested in twilight-gloom. Turning from this wonderful scene, we + looked down into the crater, on whose verge we lay. It was a fearful + sight, apparently more than a thousand feet in depth, and a mile in + breadth, with precipitous and in some places overhanging sides, which + were varied with strange and discordant colors. The steeps were + rent into deep chasms and gulfs, from which issued white sulphurous + smoke, that rose and hung in fantastic wreaths about the horrid crags; + thence springing over the edge of the crater, seemed to dissipate in the + clear keen air. I was somewhat surprised to perceive several sheets of + snow lying at the very bottom of the crater, a proof that the internal + fires were in a deep slumber. The edge of the crater was a mere + ridge of scoriæ and ashes, varying in height; and it required some care, + in places, to avoid falling down the steep on one hand, or being precipitated + into the gulf on the other. The air was keen; but fortunately + there was little wind; and after spending about an hour on the summit, + we commenced our descent.</p> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page113" name="page113"></a>113</span>We varied our course from the one we took on ascending, and visited + an altar erected to Jupiter by the ancients, now called the <i>Torre del + Filosofo</i>. Soon after we came upon the verge of a vast crater, the + period of whose activity is beyond the earliest records of history. <i>Val + di Bove</i>, as it is called, is a tremendous scene. Imagine a basin several + miles across, a thousand feet in depth at least, with craggy and perpendicular + walls on every side; its bottom broken into deep ravines and + chasms, and shattered pinnacles, as though the lava in its molten state + had been shaken and tossed by an earthquake, and then suddenly congealed. + It is into this ancient crater that the lava of the most recent + eruption is descending. It is fortunate that it has taken that direction.</p> + <p>In another and concluding number, the reader’s attention will be + directed to the <i>Architectural Antiquities of Sicily</i>, especially those of + Grecian structure, which will be described in the order in which they + were visited.</p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">LINES TO TIME.</h2> + <h3 class="byline">BY MRS. J. WEBB.</h3> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Oh</span> Time! I’ll weave, to deck thy brow,</p> + <p>A wreath fresh culled from Flora’s treasure:</p> + <p>If thou wilt backward turn thy flight</p> + <p>To youth’s bright morn of joy and pleasure.</p> + <p>‘Joys ill exchanged for riper years;’</p> + <p>The bard, alas! hath truly spoken:</p> + <p>I’ve wept the truth in burning tears</p> + <p>O’er many a fair hope crushed and broken.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>In vain my sager, wiser friends</p> + <p>Told of thy speed and wing untiring;</p> + <p>I drank of Pleasure’s honied cup,</p> + <p>Nor marked thy flight, no change desiring;</p> + <p>When all too late I gave thee chase,</p> + <p>But found thou couldst not be o’ertaken:</p> + <p>With heedless wing thou’st onward swept,</p> + <p>Though hopes were crushed and empires shaken.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Thou with the world thy flight began’st;</p> + <p>Compared with thine, what were the knowledge</p> + <p>Of every sage in every clime,</p> + <p>The learning of the school or college?</p> + <p>Thou’st seen, in all the pomp of power,</p> + <p>Athens, the proudest seat of learning;</p> + <p>And thou couldst tell us if thou wouldst,</p> + <p>How Nero looked when Rome was burning.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>What direful sights hast thou beheld,</p> + <p>As careless thou hast journied on:</p> + <p>The hemlock-bowl for Athen’s pride;</p> + <p>The gory field of Marathon;</p> + <p>The monarch crowned, the warrior plumed,</p> + <p>With power and with ambition burning;</p> + <p>Yet they must all have seemed to thee</p> + <p>Poor pigmies on a pivot turning.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page114" name="page114"></a>114</span>Their pomp, their power, with thine compared,</p> + <p>How blank and void, how frail and fleeting!</p> + <p>Thou hast not paused e’en o’er their tombs</p> + <p>To give their mighty spirits greeting;</p> + <p>But onward still with untired wing,</p> + <p>Regardless thou ’rt thy flight pursuing,</p> + <p>Unseen, alas! till thou art past,</p> + <p>While o’er our heads thy snows thou ’rt strewing.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh! vainly may poor mortals strive</p> + <p>With learned lore of school and college;</p> + <p>Their books may teach us wisdom’s rules,</p> + <p>But thou alone canst teach us knowledge.</p> + <p>Oh! had I earlier known thy worth,</p> + <p>I had not now been left repining,</p> + <p>Nor asked to weave for thee the wreath</p> + <p>That on my youthful brow was shining.</p> + <p>Could but again the race be mine,</p> + <p>In life’s young morn, I’d seek and find thee;</p> + <p>I’d seize thee by thy flowing lock,</p> + <p>And never more be left behind thee!</p> + </div> + </div> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">A NIGHT ON THE PRAIRIE.</h2> + + <h3 class="byline">BY A BUFFALO HUNTER.</h3> + + <p><span class="first_word">While</span> looking over my ‘omnium gatherum;’ the same being a + drawer containing scraps of poetry, unfinished letters, half-written editorials, + incidents of travel, obsolete briefs, with many other odds and + ends that have fallen from my brain during the last three years, but which + from want of quality in them or lack of energy in me, have failed to + reach the dignity of types and ink; I came across a diary kept while + hunting buffalo with the Sac and Fox Indians, some two hundred miles + west of the Mississippi, during the summer of 1842. Finding myself + interested in recurring to the incidents of that excursion, it occurred to + me that matter might be drawn therefrom which would not be without interest + to the public. I have therefore ventured to offer the following for + publication; it being an account of a night passed at the source of the + Checauque, when I did not deem my scalp worth five minute’s purchase, + and when I cheerfully would have given ten years of an ordinary life + to have been under the humblest roof in the most desolate spot in the + ‘land of steady habits.’</p> + + <p>I have said that we were in the country of the Sioux. That our situation + may be understood, I would remark farther, that between the latter + and the confederated tribes of the Sac and Fox Indians, there has + been for the last forty years, and still exists, the most inveterate hostility; + the two parties never meeting without bloodshed. The Government + of the United States, in pursuance of that policy which guides its conduct + toward the various Indian tribes, for the preservation of peace between + these two nations, have laid out between them a strip of country + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page115" name="page115"></a>115</span>forty miles in width, denominated the ‘Neutral Ground,’ and on to which + neither nation is permitted to extend their hunting excursions.</p> + + <p>On the occasion of which I write, the Sacs and Foxes, having been + disappointed in finding buffalo within their own limits, and perhaps feeling + quite as anxious to fall in with a band of Sioux as to obtain game, + had passed the ‘Neutral Ground,’ and were now several days’ journey + into the country of their enemies.</p> + + <p>For the last two days we had marched with the utmost circumspection; + our spies ranged the country for miles in advance and on either + flank, while at night we had sought some valley as a place of encampment, + where our fires could not be seen from a distance. Each day we + had perceived signs which indicated that small parties of Sioux had + been quite recently over the very ground we were travelling. The + whites in the company, numbering some eleven or twelve, had remonstrated + with the Indians, representing to them that they were transgressing + the orders of the government, and that should a hostile meeting take + place they would certainly incur the displeasure of their ‘great father’ + at Washington.</p> + + <p>Heedless of our remonstrances they continued to advance until it became + evident that the Sioux and not buffalo were their object. The truth + was, they felt themselves in an excellent condition to meet their ancient + enemy. They numbered, beside old men and the young and untried, + three hundred and twenty-five warriors, mounted and armed with rifles, + many of them veterans who had seen service on the side of Great + Britain in her last war with this country, and most of whom had served + with Black Hawk in his brief but desperate contest with the United + States. Moreover, they placed some reliance on the whites who accompanied + them; all of whom, except my friend <span class="keep_together">B——</span>, of Kentucky, one + or two others and myself, were old frontier men, versed in the arts of + Indian warfare.</p> + + <p>As for myself, I felt far from comfortable in the position in which I + found myself placed; hundreds of miles from any white settlement, + and expecting hourly to be forced into a conflict where no glory was to + be gained, and in which defeat would be certain death, while victory + could not fail to bring upon us the censure of our government. The + idea of offering up my scalp as a trophy to Sioux valor, and leaving my + bones to bleach on the wide prairie, with no prayer over my remains + nor stone to mark the spot of my sepulture, was far from comfortable. + I thought of the old church-yard amidst the green hills of New-England, + where repose the dust of my ancestors, and would much preferred + to have been gathered there, full of years, ‘like a shock of corn fully + ripe in its season,’ rather than to be cut down in the morning of life by the + roving Sioux, and my frame left a dainty morsel for the skulking wolf + of the prairie. I communicated my sentiments to <span class="keep_together">B——</span>, and found + that his views corresponded with mine. ‘But,’ said he, with the spirit + of a genuine Kentuckian, ‘we are in for it, Harry, and we must fight; + it will not do to let these Indians see us show the white feather.’</p> + + <p>It was under such circumstances, and with these feelings, that we + pitched our tents after a hard day’s march, in a valley near the margin + of a little stream which uniting with others forms the Checauque, one + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page116" name="page116"></a>116</span>of the tributaries of the Mississippi. The river flowed in our front. In + our rear, and surrounding us on either side, forming a sort of amphitheatre, + was a range of low hills crowned with a grove of young hickorys. + A branch on our left, running down to the stream, separated our + tents from the encampment of our Indian allies. Our camp consisted + of three tents pitched some fifteen steps apart. <span class="keep_together">B——</span> and myself occupied + the middle one. We had a companion, a scrub of a fellow, who + forced himself upon us as we were on the point of starting, and whom + we could not well shake off. To this genius, on account of his many + disagreeable qualities, we had given the soubriquet of ‘<i>Common Doings</i>.’ + The other whites of the party occupied the other two tents.</p> + + <p>We had just finished the usual routine of camp duty for the night, + ‘spansered’ our horses, eaten our suppers, laid in a supply of fuel for + our fires, and were sitting around them smoking our pipes and listening + to the marvellous tales of an old ‘Leatherstocking’ of the party, whose + life had been passed between the Rocky Mountains and the Mississippi, + when two of our Indian spies came in, passing in front of our tents and + across the branch to the Indian camp. One of our party followed them + to hear their report, and soon returned with the information that the + spies had seen an encampment of Sioux, and that the Sacs and Foxes + were then holding a council as to what measures it was best to pursue. + Others of our party, who understood the Indian tongue, went across for + farther information. Mean time we remained in great anxiety, canvassing + among ourselves the probable truth of the report, and speculating on + the course most proper for us to take. Our friends soon returned, + having heard the full report of the spies as it was delivered before the + chiefs in council. They had proceeded some eight miles beyond the + place of our encampment to a hill in the vicinity of Swan Lake; from + the hill they had seen a large body of Sioux, numbering as near as they + could estimate them, five or six hundred. From the manner in which + they were encamped and from other signs, they knew them to be a ‘war + party;’ and having made these observations, they withdrew, concealing + themselves as much as possible, and as they supposed, without being + discovered. The effect of this information upon us may easily be imagined. + We were ‘in for it’ sure enough! We had expected for several + days that we should meet the enemy, but to find them so near us in + such force, so far outnumbering our own, we had not anticipated.</p> + + <p>The question now was, what were we to do? Some proposed that we + should move our camp across the branch and pitch our tent among our + Indian allies; for it was argued with much force that if our spies had + been discovered, the Sioux would follow their trail, and as it passed + directly by our tents, we should fall the first victims; that if the Sioux, + notwithstanding their superiority in numbers, should not think it prudent + to attack the main camp, they would not fail to attack, according to + their custom, the out-camps, take what scalps they could, and retreat. + But there was a strong objection to moving our camp: the Indians frequently + during the march had desired us to pitch our tents among them, + but we had always declined, preferring to be by ourselves. What would + they say if we should now break up our encampment and go among + them? ‘White men are cowards! They rejected our request when all + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page117" name="page117"></a>117</span>was safe, but now at the approach of danger they come skulking among + us like dogs for protection.’ No; we could not do this; pride forbade + it. We next discussed the expediency of dividing ourselves into a + watch, and keeping guard by turns through the night. The more experienced + of the party, and particularly Jamison, an old hunter and Indian + fighter, said that this would only exhaust us, and would be of no avail; + that our Indian allies had spies around the encampment in every direction; + that if they failed to perceive the approach of the enemy, we could + not discover them; that the first intimation our sentinels would have + would be an arrow through the body; that our best plan would be to + extinguish our fires, prepare our arms, lie down with them in our hands, + rely on the Indian spies for notice of the enemy’s approach, and on the + first alarm make our way to the Indian camp, being careful as we approached + it to give the pass-word for the night, ‘<i>Wal-las-ki-push-eto</i>.’ + We all finally came to this conclusion.</p> + + <p>During the discussion, two of the party had not spoken a word; one + was our tent-mate ‘Doings,’ who was so completely paralyzed with + fright as to be unable to think or speak; the other was old ‘Leatherstocking,’ + who listened with the utmost coolness to all that was said, + occasionally expressing assent or dissent by a nod or shake of the head. + I now observed him quietly examine his rifle, draw the charge and reload; + take out the flint and replace it with a new one; he then threw + himself down for the night, his bared knife in his left hand, and his + right resting on the breech of his rifle, remarking as he composed himself + to sleep, ‘We must be ready boys; there’s no telling when the varmints + will be upon us.’</p> + + <p><span class="keep_together">B——</span> and myself prepared our arms: each of us wore a brace of + pistols in a belt; these were carefully loaded and buckled on; our rifles + were next examined and put in order; our hatchets were placed at hand, + and with many misgivings we laid ourselves down. It was some time + before I could sleep, and when I did, my repose was disturbed by + dreams. How long I slept I am unable to say, perhaps not more than + an hour, when I was suddenly awakened. I listened. The noise of the + horses, of which there were several hundred grazing in the valley, with + the tinkling of the bells on their necks, were the only sounds that at first + met my ear; all else was silent. Presently I heard a noise as if made + by the stealthy tread of a man; then a voice, or perhaps the cry of + some animal. It was repeated. I heard it in the grove, on the hill, then + an answering cry on the other side of the stream. I knew that Indians + in a night-attack make signals by imitating the cry of some animal; and + the sounds I heard, though like those made by wild beasts, seemed to + me to be in reality human voices. I drew a pistol from my belt, cocked + it, and with a hatchet in my other hand, crept out of the tent, and lying + on the ground, looked cautiously around. The cries continued at + intervals, and I became more and more satisfied that they were human + voices. I felt, I <em>knew</em> that the Sioux were about to attack us. A + thousand thoughts flashed across my mind. I thought of the home of + my childhood, my far distant kindred; a mother, sisters, brothers. + Unskilled as I was in Indian warfare, I expected to be slain. I was + alarmed; frightened perhaps, but not paralyzed. I resolved to fight + to the last, and if I <em>must</em> die, to fill no coward’s grave.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page118" name="page118"></a>118</span>As my eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, I began to distinguish + objects; and peering beyond our line of tents, I saw on our + right, between me and the grove, three dark objects like human heads + projecting out of the grass. While I was observing them, two of them + disappeared, and I could discern the grass wave as they made their way + toward our encampment. There was no longer room for doubt. I + called to <span class="keep_together">B——</span> in a whisper; he was on his feet and by my side in an + instant, a cocked pistol in each hand. I directed his attention to what + I saw. He looked steadfastly for a moment, then raising his eyes to the + grove, exclaimed in a whisper, ‘The timber is full of Indians! I see them + advancing from tree to tree; it is time for action. I shall fall, but you + may be saved; if so, let my friends in Kentucky know that I died like + a brave man. I will arouse the rest.’</p> + + <p>He went to the tent on our left, while I remained watching the + approach of the enemy. I could see them distinctly as they moved + from tree to tree. I heard <span class="keep_together">B——</span> call in a whisper, ‘Jamison! Jamison!’ + Jamison came out of his tent but without his arms. <span class="keep_together">B——</span> told + him of our danger, and directed his attention to the Indians in the grove. + As he spoke Jamison stretched out his arms and gave a yawn, remarking, + ‘These Injuns are mighty unsartin critters; there’s no knowing + about their motions;’ crawled into his tent again. <span class="keep_together">B——</span> returned; + neither of us spoke. We lay down and drew our blankets over us; at + length <span class="keep_together">B——</span> said:</p> + + <p>‘Harry?’</p> + + <p>‘What?’</p> + + <p>‘Hoaxed! by thunder!’</p> + + <p>The whole truth, which had been breaking in upon my mind by + degrees, now flashed upon me, and I raised a shout of laughter. At + this instant, poor ‘Doings,’ who had been awake from the commencement, + but who was so scared that he had rolled himself under the eaves + of the tent, and contracted himself into a space scarcely larger than my + arm, and who in his terror would have lain still and had his throat cut + without wagging a finger in defence; this poor, miserable ‘Doings’ exclaimed + ‘Haw! haw! haw! I knew it all the time; I never see fellows + so scared!’ This was too bad. However, we had our laugh out, discussed + plans for vengeance, went to sleep and had quiet slumbers for + the rest of the night.</p> + + <p>The next morning we ascertained that the whole story about the Sioux + encampment had been fabricated for the purpose of trying our mettle, + and that all save <span class="keep_together">B——</span>, myself and ‘Doings,’ were in the secret. The + moving objects which I had seen in the grass were Indian dogs prowling + around for food, and the Indians in the timber existed only in our + excited imaginations.</p> + + <p class="post_break">I may hereafter give an account of the <i>modus operandi</i> of our revenge, + and of our mode of hunting the buffalo, in which we met with much + success; and of other matters of interest which fell under my observation + during the sixty days we spent with this tribe of Indians.</p> + + <p class="sign"><span class="author">H. T. H.</span></p> + + </div> + <div class="article"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page119" name="page119"></a>119</span></p> + + <h2 class="title">LIFE’S YOUNG DREAM.</h2> + <div class="epigram"> + <p>‘There is no Voice in Nature which says ‘Return.’’</p> + </div> + + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Those</span> envious threads, what do they here,</p> + <p class="i2">Amid thy flowing hair?</p> + <p>It should be many a summer’s day</p> + <p class="i2">Ere they were planted there:</p> + <p>Yet many a day ere thou and Care</p> + <p class="i2">Had known each other’s form,</p> + <p>Or thou hadst bent thy youthful head</p> + <p class="i2">To Sorrow’s whelming storm.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh! was it grief that blanched the locks</p> + <p class="i2">Thus early on thy brow?</p> + <p>And does the memory cloud thy heart,</p> + <p class="i2">And dim thy spirit now?</p> + <p>Or are the words upon thy lip</p> + <p class="i2">An echo from thy heart;</p> + <p>And is <em>that</em> gay as are the smiles</p> + <p class="i2">With which thy full lips part?</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>For thou hast lived man’s life of thought,</p> + <p class="i2">While careless youth was thine;</p> + <p>Thy boyish lip has passed the jest</p> + <p class="i2">And sipped the sparkling wine,</p> + <p>And mingled in the heartless throng</p> + <p class="i2">As thoughtlessly as they,</p> + <p>Ere yet the days of early youth</p> + <p class="i2">Had glided swift away.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>They say that Nature wooeth back</p> + <p class="i2">No wanderer to her arms;</p> + <p>Welcomes no prodigal’s return</p> + <p class="i2">Who once hath scorned her charms.</p> + <p>And ah! I fear for thee and me,</p> + <p class="i2">The feelings of our youth</p> + <p>Have vanished with the things that were,</p> + <p class="i2">Amid the wrecks of truth.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh! for the early happy days</p> + <p class="i2">When hope at least was new!</p> + <p>Ere we had dreamed a thousand dreams,</p> + <p class="i2">And found them all untrue;</p> + <p>Ere we had flung our life away</p> + <p class="i2">On what might not be ours;</p> + <p>Found bitter drops in every cup,</p> + <p class="i2">And thorns on all the flowers.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Ye who have yet youth’s sunny dreams,</p> + <p class="i2">Oh guard the treasure well,</p> + <p>That no rude voice from coming years</p> + <p class="i2">May break the enchanted spell!</p> + <p>No cloud of doubt come o’er your sky</p> + <p class="i2">To dim its sunny ray,</p> + <p>Be careless children, while ye can,</p> + <p class="i2">Trust on, while yet ye may.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p class="sign"><span class="location">Albany, January, 1844.</span><span class="author">A. R.</span></p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page120" name="page120"></a>120</span></p> + + <h2 class="title">THE QUOD CORRESPONDENCE.</h2> + + <h3 class="subtitle fancy">HARRY HARSON.</h3> + + <h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST.</h4> + + + <p><span class="first_word">In</span> the same room from which Craig and Jones had set out on their + ill-fated errand, and at the hour of noon on the following day, the latter + was crouching in front of the fire-place, which had been so bright and + cheery the night before, but which now contained nothing except ashes, + and a few half-burned stumps, charred and blackened, but entirely extinguished. + Over these Jones bent, occasionally shivering slightly, and + holding his hands to them, apparently unconscious that they emitted no + heat, and then dabbling in the ashes, and muttering to himself. But a + few hours had elapsed since he had left that room a bold, daring, desperate + man; yet in that short time a frightful change had come over him. + His eyes were blood-red; his lips swollen and bloody, and the under + one deeply gashed, as if he had bitten it through; his cheeks haggard + and hollow, his hair dishevelled, his dress torn, and almost dragged from + his person. But it was not in the outward man alone that this alteration + had taken place. In spirit, as well as in frame, he was crushed. His + former iron bearing was gone; no energy, no strength left. He seemed + but a wreck, shattered and beaten down—down to the very dust. At + times he mumbled to himself, and moaned like one in suffering. Then + again he rose and paced the room with long strides, dashing his hand + against his forehead, and uttering execrations. The next moment he + staggered to his seat, buried his face in his hands, and sobbed like a + child.</p> + + <p>‘Tim,’ said he, in a low broken voice, ‘poor old Tim; I killed you, + I know I did; but blast ye! I loved you, Tim. But it’s of no use, + now; you’re dead, and can never know how much poor Bill Jones cared + for you. No, no; you never can, Tim. We were boys together, and + now I’m alone; no one left—no one, <em>no</em> one!’</p> + + <p>In the very phrenzy of grief, that succeeded these words, he flung + himself upon the floor, dashing his head and hands against it, and rolling + and writhing like one in mortal pain. This outbreak of passion was + followed by a kind of stupor; and crawling to his seat, he remained + there, like one stunned and bereft of strength. Stolid, scarcely breathing, + and but for the twitching of his fingers, motionless as stone; with his + eyes fixed on the blank wall, he sat as silent as one dead; but with a + heart on fire, burning with a remorse never to be quenched; with a + soul hurrying and darting to and fro in its mortal tenement, to escape + the lashings of conscience. Struggle on! struggle on! There is no + escape, until that strong heart is eaten away by a disease for which + there is no cure; until that iron frame, worn down by suffering, has + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page121" name="page121"></a>121</span>become food for the worm, and that spirit and its persecutor stand before + their final judge, in the relations of criminal and accuser.</p> + + <p>A heavy step announced that some one was ascending the stairs. + Jones moved not. A loud knock at the door followed. Still he did not + stir. The door was then flung open, in no very gentle manner, for it + struck the wall behind it with a noise that made the room echo: but a + cannon might have been fired there, and Jones would not have heard it.</p> + + <p>The person however who had thus unceremoniously opened the way + to his entrance, seemed perfectly indifferent whether his proceedings + were agreeable or otherwise. His first movement on entering the room + was to shut the door after him and lock it; his next was to look about + it to see whether it contained any other than the person of Jones. + Having satisfied himself on that score, he walked rapidly up to him + and tapped him on the shoulder.</p> + + <p>Jones looked listlessly up at him, and then turning away, dabbled in + the ashes, without uttering a word.</p> + + <p>‘Hello! Bill Jones,’ said the stranger, after waiting a moment or two + in evident surprise, ‘what ails you?’</p> + + <p>The man made no reply.</p> + + <p>‘Are you sulky?’ demanded the other; ‘Well, follow your own humor; + but answer me one question: where’s Craig?’</p> + + <p>Jones shuddered; and his hand shook violently. Rising up, half + tottering, he turned and stood face to face with his visiter.</p> + + <p>‘Good day to ye, Mr. Grosket,’ said he, with a ghastly smile, and + extending his hand to him. ‘Good day to ye. It’s a bright day, on + the heels of such a night as the last was.’</p> + + <p>‘Good God! what ails you, man?’ exclaimed Grosket, recoiling before + the wild figure which confronted him; and then taking his hand, + he said: ‘Your hand is hot as fire, your eyes blood-shot, and your face + covered with blood. What have you been at? What ails you?’</p> + + <p>Jones passed his hand feebly across his forehead, and then replied: + ‘I’m sick at heart!’</p> + + <p>He turned from Grosket, and again crouched upon the hearth, mumbling + over his last words, ‘Sick at heart! sick at heart!’—nor did he + appear to recollect Grosket’s question respecting Craig. If he did, he + did not answer it, but with his arms locked over his knees, he rocked + to and fro, like one in great pain.</p> + + <p>‘Are you ill, man, or are you drunk?’ demanded Grosket, pressing + heavily on his shoulder. ‘Speak out, I say: what ails you? If you + don’t find your tongue, I’ll find it for you.’</p> + + <p>Jones, thus addressed, made an effort to rally, and partially succeeded; + for after a moment he suddenly rose up erect, and in a clear, bold voice, + replied:</p> + + <p>‘I’m not drunk, Mr. Grosket, but I <em>am</em> ill; God knows what’s the + matter with me. Look at me!’ he continued, stepping to where the + light was strongest; ‘Look at me well. Wouldn’t you think I’d been + on my back for months?’</p> + + <p>‘You look ill enough;’ was the blunt reply.</p> + + <p>‘Well, then, what do you want?’ demanded Jones, in a peevish tone; + ‘why do you trouble me? I can’t bear it. Go away; go away.’</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page122" name="page122"></a>122</span>‘I will, when you’ve answered my question. Where’s Craig?’</p> + + <p>‘I don’t know. He was here last night; but he went out, and hasn’t + been here since.’</p> + + <p>‘Where did he go?’</p> + + <p>Jones shook his head: ‘He didn’t say.’</p> + + <p>‘Was he alone?’</p> + + <p>‘No,’ replied the other, evidently wincing under these questions; + ‘No; there was a man with him, nigh about my size. He went with + him. That’s all I know about either of them. There, there; get + through with your questions. They turn my head,’ said he, in an + irritable tone.</p> + + <p>‘Why did he take a stranger?’ demanded Grosket, without paying + the least attention to his manner. ‘You forget that I know you and he + generally hunt in couples.’</p> + + <p>It might have been the cold of the room striking through to his very + bones that had so powerful an effect on Jones, but he shook from head + to foot, as he answered:</p> + + <p>‘Look at me! God! would you have a man out in such a night as + that was, when he’s almost ready for his winding-sheet?’</p> + + <p>Grosket’s only reply was to ask another question.</p> + + <p>‘What was the name of the man who went with him?’</p> + + <p>‘I don’t know.’</p> + + <p>‘What did they go to do?’</p> + + <p>Jones hesitated, as if in doubt what answer to make, and then, as if + adopting an open course, he said: ‘I’ve know’d you a good while, Mr. + Grosket, and you won’t blab, if I tell you what I suspect, will ye? It’s + only guess-work, after all. Promise me that; I know your word is + good.’</p> + + <p>Grosket paused a moment before he made the promise; and then + said: ‘Well, I’ll keep what you tell me to myself. Now then.’</p> + + <p>‘It was a house-breaking business,’ said Jones, sinking his voice. + ‘They took pistols with them; and I heard Tim tell the other one to + take the crow-bar and the glim. That’s all I know. I was too much + down to listen. There; go away now. I’ve talked till my head is + almost split. Talking drives me mad. Go away.’</p> + + <p>Grosket stood perfectly still in deep thought. The story might be + true; for the city was ringing with the news of the burglary, and of the + death of one of the burglars by the hands of his comrade. It was + rumored too, that the dead man had been identified by some of the officers + of the police, and that his name was Craig. It was this, taken in + connection with the facts that the attempt had been made on Harson’s + house; that an effort had been made to carry off a child who lived with + him, and of its being known to Grosket that Rust had often employed + these two men in matters requiring great energy and few scruples, that + had induced him thus early to visit their haunt, to ascertain the truth of + his suspicions; and to endeavor, if possible, to ferret out the plans of + their employer. The replies of Jones, short and abrupt as they were, + convinced him that his suspicions respecting Craig were correct; but + who could the other man be?</p> + + <p>Engrossed with his own thoughts, he appeared to forget where he was + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page123" name="page123"></a>123</span>and who was present; for he commenced walking up and down the + room; then stopped; folded his arms, and talked to himself in low, broken + sentences. Again he walked to the far end of the room and stopped + there.</p> + + <p>Jones, in the mean time, to avoid farther questioning, seated himself; + and leaning his elbows on his knees, hid his face in his hand. He was + disturbed, however, by feeling himself shaken roughly by the shoulder. + ‘What you’ve just been telling me, is a lie!’ said Grosket, sternly. + ‘You should know me well enough not to run the risk of trifling with me. + I want the truth and nothing else. Where were <em>you</em> last night?’</p> + + <p>Jones looked up at him and then answered in a sullen tone: ‘I’ve + told you once; I was here.’</p> + + <p>Grosket went to a dark corner of the room and brought back Jones’ + great-coat, completely saturated with water. ‘This room scarcely leaks + enough to do that,’ said he, throwing it on the floor in front of Jones. + ‘Ha! what’s that in the pocket?’</p> + + <p>He thrust in his hand and drew out a pistol. The hammer was down, + the cap exploded, and the inside of the muzzle blackened by burnt + powder.</p> + + <p>‘Fired off!’ said he. ‘You told the truth. The man who went with + Craig <em>did</em> look like you. I know the rest. Tim Craig is dead, and you + shot him.’</p> + + <p>An expression of strange meaning crossed the face of the burglar as + he returned the steady look of his visiter without making any reply. + But Grosket was not yet done with him; for he said in a slow, savage + tone: ‘Now mark me well. If you lie in what you tell me, I’ll hang + you. Who employed you to do this job?’</p> + + <p>Jones eyed him for a moment, and then turned away impatiently and + said, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t worry me. + I’m sick and half crazy. Get away, will ye!’</p> + + <p>‘<em>This</em> to me! to <em>me!</em>’ exclaimed the other, stepping back, his eyes + flashing fire; ‘you forget yourself.’</p> + + <p>Jones rose up, his red hair hanging like ropes about his face, and his + bloodshot eyes and disfigured features giving him the look rather of a wild + beast than of a man. Shaking his finger at Grosket, he said, ‘Keep + away from me to day, I say. There’s an evil spell over me. Come + to-morrow, but don’t push me to-day, or God knows what you may drive + me to do. There, there—go.’</p> + + <p>Still Grosket stirred not, but with a curling lip and an eye as bright + as his own, and voice so fearfully quiet and yet stern that at another time + it might have quelled even the strong spirit of the robber, he said + ‘Enoch Grosket never goes until his object is attained.’</p> + + <p>‘Then you won’t go?’ demanded Jones.</p> + + <p>‘No!’</p> + + <p>Jones made a hasty step toward him, with his teeth set and his eyes + burning like coals of fire; but whatever may have been his purpose, + and from the expression of his face, there was little doubt but that it was + a hostile one, he was diverted from it by hearing a hand on the latch of + the door and a voice from without demanding admittance.</p> + + <p>‘It is Rust,’ exclaimed Grosket, in a sharp whisper. He touched the + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page124" name="page124"></a>124</span>burglar on the shoulder and said in the same tone, ‘I’m going in <em>there</em>.’ + He pointed to a closet in a dark part of the room, nearly concealed by + the wainscotting. Let him in, and betray me if you dare!’</p> + + <p>‘You seem to know our holes well,’ muttered Jones. ‘You’ve been + here afore.’ Grosket made no reply, but hurried across the room and + secreted himself in the closet, which evidently had been constructed as + a place of concealment, either for the tenants of the room themselves, or + for whatever else it might not suit their fancy to have too closely examined.</p> + + <p>Jones stared after him, apparently forgetting the applicant for admission, + until a renewed and very violent knocking recalled his attention to + it. He then went to the door, drew back the bolt, and walked to + his seat, without even glancing to see who came in, or whom the person + was who followed so closely at his heels. Nor did he look around until + he felt his arm roughly grasped, and a sharp stern voice hissing in + his ear:</p> + + <p>‘So, so! a fine night’s work you’ve made of it. Tim Craig is dead + and the whole city is already ringing with the news; and <em>you</em>, you’re + a murderer!’</p> + + <p>Jones started from his seat with the sudden spasmodic bound of one + who has received a mortal thrust. He stared wildly at the sharp thin + face which had almost touched his, and then sat down and said:</p> + + <p>‘Don’t talk to me so, Mr. Rust; I can’t bear it.’</p> + + <p>‘Ho, ho! your conscience is tender, is it? It has a raw spot that won’t + bear handling, has it? We’ll see to that. But to business,’ said + he, his face becoming white with rage; his black eyes blazing, and his + voice losing its smoothness and quivering as he spoke.</p> + + <p>‘I’ve come here to fulfil my agreement; you were to get that child + for me to-day; I’ve come for her; where is she?’</p> + + <p>Jones looked at him with an expression of impatience mingled with + contempt, but made him no answer.</p> + + <p>‘Tim Craig was to have gone to that house; he was to have carried + her off; he was to have her here, <em>here</em>, <span class="small_all_caps">HERE</span>!’ said he, in the same fierce + tone. ‘Why hasn’t he done it?’</p> + + <p>‘Because he’s dead,’ said Jones savagely.</p> + + <p>‘I’m glad of it! I’m glad of it!’ exclaimed Rust. ‘He deserved it. + The coward! <em>Let</em> him die.’</p> + + <p>‘Tim Craig was no coward,’ replied Jones, in a tone which, had Rust + been less excited, would have warned him to desist.</p> + + <p>‘Ha!’ exclaimed Rust, scanning him from head to foot, as if surprised + at his daring to contradict him, ‘Would you gainsay me?’</p> + + <p>Jones returned his look without flinching, his teeth firmly set and grating + together. At last he said:</p> + + <p>‘I <em>do</em> gainsay you; and I <em>do</em> say, whoever calls Tim Craig a coward + lies!’</p> + + <p>‘<em>This</em>, and from <em>you</em>!’ exclaimed Rust, shaking his thin finger in his + very face; ‘<em>this</em> from you; <em>you</em>, a house-breaker, a thief, and last night + the murderer of your comrade. Ho! ho! it makes me laugh! Fool! + How many lives have you? One word of mine could hang you.’</p> + + <p>‘<em>You’ll</em> never hang <em>me</em>,’ replied Jones, in the same low, savage tone. + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page125" name="page125"></a>125</span>‘I wish you had, before that cursed job of yours made me put a bullet + in poor Tim. I wish you had; but it is too late. You wont <em>now</em>.’</p> + + <p>Words cannot describe the fury of Michael Rust at seeing himself + thus bearded by one whom he had been used to see truckle to him, whom + he considered the mere tool of Craig, and whom he had never thought + it worth while even to consult in their previous interviews.</p> + + <p>‘Wont I? <em>wont</em> I? Look to yourself,’ muttered he, shaking his finger + at him with a slow, cautioning gesture, ‘Look to yourself.’</p> + + <p>‘You’re right, I <em>will</em>; I say I <em>will</em>,’ exclaimed Jones, leaping up and + confronting him. ‘I say I <em>will</em>; and now I do!’ He grasped him by + the throat and shook him as if he had been a child.</p> + + <p>‘I might as well kill him at once,’ muttered he, without heeding the + struggles of Rust. ‘It’s <em>him</em> or <em>me</em>; yes, yes, I’ll do it.’</p> + + <p>Coming to this fatal conclusion, he flung Rust back on the floor and + leaped upon him. At this moment, however, the door of the closet was + thrown open, and Grosket, whom he had entirely forgotten, sprang suddenly + out:</p> + + <p>‘Come, come, this wont do!’ said he; ‘no murder!’</p> + + <p>Jones made no effort to resist the jerk at his arm with which Grosket + accompanied his words, but quietly rose, and said:</p> + + <p>‘Well, he drove me to it. He may thank <em>you</em> for his life, not <em>me</em>.’</p> + + <p>Relieved from his antagonist, Rust recovered his feet, and turning to + Grosket said, in a sneering tone:</p> + + <p>‘Michael Rust thanks Enoch for having used his influence with his + friend, to prevent the commission of a crime which might have made both + Enoch and his crony familiar with a gallows. A select circle of + acquaintance friend Enoch has.’</p> + + <p>Grosket, quietly, pointed to the closet and said:</p> + + <p>‘You forget that I have been there ever since you came in the room; + and have overheard every thing that passed between you and <em>my</em> friend.’</p> + + <p>Rust bit his lip.</p> + + <p>‘Don’t let it annoy you,’ continued he, ‘for the most of what I heard + I knew before. I have had my eye on you from the time we parted. + With all your benevolent schemes respecting myself I am perfectly + familiar. The debt which you bought up to arrest me on; your attempt + to have me indicted on a false charge of felony; the quiet hint dropped + in another quarter, that if I should be found with my throat cut, or a + bullet in my head, you wouldn’t break your heart; I knew them all; + but I did not avail myself of the law. Shall I tell you why, Michael + Rust? Because I had a revenge sweeter than the law could give.’</p> + + <p>‘Friend Enoch is welcome to it when he gets it,’ replied Rust, in a + soft tone. ‘But the day when it will come is far off.’</p> + + <p>‘The day is at hand,’ replied Grosket. ‘It is here: it is now. Not + for a mine of gold would I forego what I now know; not for any thing + that is dear in the world’s eyes, would I spare you one pang that I can + now inflict.’</p> + + <p>Rust smiled incredulously, but made no reply.</p> + + <p>‘Your schemes are frustrated,’ continued Grosket. ‘The children + are both found; their parentage known; <em>your</em> name blasted. The brother + who fostered you, and loaded you with kindness will have his eyes + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page126" name="page126"></a>126</span>opened to your true character; and you will be a felon, amenable to + the penalty of the law, whenever any man shall think fit to call it down + upon your head. But this is nothing to what is in store for you.’</p> + + <p>‘Well,’ said Rust, with the same quiet smile; ‘please to enumerate + what other little kindnesses you have in store for me.’</p> + + <p>‘I will,’ replied Grosket. ‘<em>I</em> was once a happy man. I had a wife + and daughter, whom I loved. My wife is dead; what became of my + child? I say,’ exclaimed he bitterly, ‘what became of my child?’</p> + + <p>‘Young women will forget themselves sometimes,’ said Rust, his thin + lip curling. ‘She became a harlot—only a harlot.’</p> + + <p>Grosket grew deadly pale, and his voice became less clear, as he + answered:</p> + + <p>‘You’re right—you’re right! why shrink from the word. It’s a + harsh one; but it’s God’s truth; she <em>did</em>—and she died.’</p> + + <p>‘That’s frank,’ said Rust, ‘quite frank. I am a straight-forward + man, and always speak the truth. I’m glad to see that friend Enoch + can bear it like a Christian.’</p> + + <p>A loud, taunting laugh broke from Grosket; and then he said:</p> + + <p>‘Thus much for <em>me</em>; now for yourself, Michael Rust. <em>You</em> once + had a wife.’</p> + + <p>Rust’s calm sneer disappeared in an instant, and he seemed absolutely + to wither before the keen flashing eye which was fixed steadfastly + on his.</p> + + <p>‘She lived with you two years; and then she became—shall I tell + you what?’</p> + + <p>Rust’s lips moved, but no sound came from them. Grosket bent his + lips to his ear, and whispered in it. Rust neither moved nor spoke. + He seemed paralyzed.</p> + + <p>‘But she died,’ continued Grosket, ‘and she left a child—a daughter; + <em>mine</em> was a daughter too.’</p> + + <p>Rust started from a state of actual torpor; every energy, every + faculty, every feeling leaping into life.</p> + + <p>‘That daughter is now alive,’ continued Grosket, speaking slowly, + that every word might tell with tenfold force. ‘That daughter now is, + what you drove my child to be, a harlot.’</p> + + <p>‘It’s false as hell!’ shouted Rust, in a tone that made the room ring. + ‘It’s false!’</p> + + <p>‘It’s true. I can prove it; prove it, clear as the noon-day,’ returned + Grosket, with a loud, exulting laugh.</p> + + <p>‘Oh! Enoch! oh, Enoch!’ said Rust, in a broken, supplicating tone, + ‘tell me that it’s false, and I’ll bless you! Crush me, blight me, do + what you will, only tell me that my own loved child is pure from spot + or stain! Tell me so, I beseech you; <em>I</em>, Michael Rust, who never + begged a boon before—<em>I</em> beseech you.’</p> + + <p>He fell on his knees in front of Grosket, and clasping his hands together, + raised them toward him.</p> + + <p>‘I cannot,’ replied Grosket, coldly, ‘for it’s as true as there is a + heaven above us!’</p> + + <p>Rust made an effort to speak; his fingers worked convulsively, and + he fell prostrate on the floor.</p> + + </div> + <div class="article"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page127" name="page127"></a>127</span></p> + <h2 class="article">THE SACRIFICE.</h2> + <div class="epigram"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">One</span> day during the bloody executions which took place at Lyons, a young girl rushed into the hall + where the revolutionary tribunal was held, and throwing herself at the feet of the judges, said: + ‘There remain to me of all my family only my brothers! Mother, father, sister—you have butchered + all; and now you are going to condemn my brothers. Oh! in mercy ordain that I may ascend the + scaffold with them!’ Her prayer was refused, and she threw herself into the Rhone and perished.’</p> + <p class="sign"><span class="author">Du Broca</span></p> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> judges have met in the council-hall,</p> + <p>A strange and a motley pageant, all:</p> + <p>What seek they? to win for their land a name</p> + <p>The brightest and best in the lists of fame?</p> + <p>The light of Mercy’s all-hallowed ray</p> + <p>To look with grief on the culprit’s way?</p> + <p>Nay! watch the smile and the flushing brow,</p> + <p>And in that crowd what read ye now?</p> + <p>The daring spirit and purpose high,</p> + <p>The fiery glance of the eagle eye</p> + <p>That marked the Roman’s haughty pride,</p> + <p>In the days of yore by the Tiber’s side?</p> + <p>The stern resolve of the patriot’s breast,</p> + <p>When the warrior’s zeal has sunk to rest?</p> + <p>No! Mercy has fled from the hardened heart,</p> + <p>And Justice and Truth in her steps depart,</p> + <p>And the fires of hell rage fierce and warm</p> + <p>Mid the fitful strife of the spirit’s storm.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But a wail is borne on the troubled air:</p> + <p>What victim comes those frowns to dare?</p> + <p>’Tis woman’s form and woman’s eye,</p> + <p>That Time hath passed full lightly by;</p> + <p>The limner’s art in vain might trace</p> + <p>The glorious beauty and winning grace</p> + <p>Of that fair girl; youth’s sunny day</p> + <p>Flings its radiance over life’s changing way:</p> + <p>Why has she left her princely home,</p> + <p>Why to that hall a suppliant come?</p> + <p>Her heart is sad with a deepening gloom,</p> + <p>For Hope has found in her heart a tomb.</p> + <p>With quiv’ring lip, and eye whose light</p> + <p>Is faint as the moon in a cloudy night,</p> + <p>And with cheek as pale as the crimson glow</p> + <p>That the sunset casts on the spotless snow;</p> + <p>Nerved with the strength of wild despair,</p> + <p>Low at their feet she pours her prayer:</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">‘My home! my home! is desolate,</p> + <p class="i4">For ye have slain them all,</p> + <p class="i2">And cast upon the light of Love </p> + <p class="i4">Death’s cold and fearful pall.</p> + <p class="i2">We knelt in agony to save</p> + <p class="i4">My father’s silver hair,</p> + <p class="i2">Ye would not mark the bitter tears,</p> + <p class="i4">Nor list the frantic prayer!</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">‘And then ye took my mother too:</p> + <p class="i4">Ye must remember now</p> + <p class="i2">The words that lingered on her lip,</p> + <p class="i4">The grief upon her brow;</p> + <p class="i2">My sister wept in bitter wo—</p> + <p class="i4">Her dark and earnest eyes</p> + <p class="i2">Asked for the mercy ye will seek</p> + <p class="i4">In vain in yonder skies!</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page128" name="page128"></a>128</span>‘But your hearts were like the flinty rock,</p> + <p class="i4">And cold as ocean’s foam;</p> + <p class="i2">You tore them from my clasping arms,</p> + <p class="i4">And bore them from our home:</p> + <p class="i2">And now my brothers ye will slay!</p> + <p class="i4">But they are proud and high,</p> + <p class="i2">And come with spirits brave and true,</p> + <p class="i4">Your tortures to defy.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">‘I will not ask from you their lives,</p> + <p class="i4">I will not seek to roll</p> + <p class="i2">The clouds of midnight from your hearts;</p> + <p class="i4">Ye cannot touch the soul!</p> + <p class="i2">But grant my prayer, and I will pray</p> + <p class="i4">For you in yonder sky;</p> + <p class="i2">Oh, <span class="special_name">God</span>! I ask a little thing—</p> + <p class="i4">I ask with them to die!’</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But the burning words fell cold and lone,</p> + <p>As the sun’s warm rays on a marble stone;</p> + <p>Life was a curse too bitter and wild</p> + <p>For the broken heart of Earth’s weary child;</p> + <p>And the stricken one found a self-sought grave</p> + <p>’Neath the crystal light of the foaming wave.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p class="sign"><span class="location">Shelter-Island.</span><span class="author">Mary Gardiner.</span></p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">THE DEATH BED.</h2> + <h3 class="subtitle">A STRAY LEAF FROM THE PORT-FOLIO OF A ‘COUNTRY DOCTOR.’</h3> + <h3 class="byline">BY F. W. SHELTON.</h3> + + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">Bury</span> me in the valley, beneath the willows where I have watched + the rippling waves, among the scenes of beauty which I loved so + well, oh! my friend!’ exclaimed the dying youth; and as he grasped + my hand his lips moved tremblingly, tears gushed upon his wan cheeks, + and an expression of very sadness stole upon him. His looks were + lingering; such as one flings back upon some paradise of beauty which + he leaves forever; some home which childhood has endeared to him, and + affection has filled with the loves and graces. Pity touched my soul as + I regarded silently that beaming countenance, alas! so shrunken from + the swelling, undulating lines of his hilarious health; a pity such as + one feels whose hopes are too inexplicably bound up with another’s, who + shares his very being, and who knows by all the sympathies of a brother’s + bosom that the other’s heart-strings are snapping. <i>Animæ dimidium + meæ!</i>—beautiful expression of the poet, comprehended less while life + unites, than when death severs. It is only when gazing on the seal + which has been set, we inquire ‘Where is the spirit?’ and struggle in + vain to understand that great difference; when the smiles which shed + their sunshine have rapidly vanished, and the voice we loved has died + away like the music of a harp; when that which was light, joy, wit, + eloquence, has departed with the latest breath; when, in short, we are + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page129" name="page129"></a>129</span>awakened from our revery by the clods falling on the coffin, and the + mourners moving away; it is then that the soul, diminished of its + essence, flits away with a strange sense to its unjoyous abode, as a bird + would return to its lonely nest.</p> + + <p>There never existed one who more lived and moved, and had his + spiritual being in the affections; a sensitive nature wooed into life by the + kindness of the faintest breath, but killingly crushed by the footsteps of + the thoughtless or the cruel. For such a one, life is well deserving of + the epithet applied to it by the poet Virgil: <i>dulcis vita</i>, sweet life. It is + not a vulgar sensuality, a Lethean torpor; the triumph of the grosser + nature over the eternal principle within. It is already a separation of + the carnal from the spiritual; a refinement of fierce passions; a present + divorce from a close and clinging alliance; a foretaste of the waters of + life; in short, the very essence and devotion of a pure religion. Would + it seem strangely inconsistent that a being of so sweet a character as I + shall describe him, my poor young friend declared, with a gush of the + bitterest tears, that he <em>could</em> not go into the dark valley, for he loved life + with an inconceivable, passionate love? His was the very agony and + pathos of the dying Hoffman, when almost with his latest breath, he alluded + to ‘the sweet habitude of being.’ But it was only, thanks be to + <span class="special_name">God</span>! a short defection, a momentary clouding of that bright faith which + was destined soon to see beyond the vale. His tears ceased to flow, + glistened a moment, and then passed away as if they had been wiped + by some gentle hand.</p> + + <p>He leaned upon a soft couch, so very pale and haggard that his hour + seemed very near. Costly books strewed his table; pictures and many + exquisite things were scattered about with lavish hand; for wealth administered + to refined luxury, and affection crowned him with blessings which + gold can never buy. A mother hid from him her bitter tears, and spoke + the words of cheerfulness; sisters pressed around him with the poignant + grief an only brother can inspire; a beautiful betrothed betokened + to him in irrepressible tears her depth and purity of love. Letters came + to him hurried on the wings of friendship, and impressed on all their + seals with sentiments which awakened hope. Youth and beauty hovered + around him with their unintermitted care, and Age sent up its fervent + prayers to heaven. Oh! who but the ungrateful would not love a life + so filled with blandishments and crowned with blessings? Who could + see all these receding without a sigh, or feel the pressure of that kiss of + love as pure as if it had its origin in Heaven? But with the finest + organization of intellectual mind, he had been accustomed to look at all + things in the light of poetry. For one so constituted the pleasures which + are in store are as inexhaustible as the works or mercies of his God. + Not an hour which did not present some new phase of undiscovered + beauty. He revelled in the beams of the morning; the rising sun was + never a common object, nor its grandeur ever lost upon a soul so conscious + of the sublime. For all beauty in nature he found a correspondent + passion in the soul; and intoxicated alike with the music of birds + or the perfume of flowers, found no weariness in a life whose current + was like the living spring, pure, perennial and delightful.</p> + + <p>To be so susceptible of pleasure, I would be willing to encounter all + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page130" name="page130"></a>130</span>the keenness of pangs suffered by such natures. For such, the rational + delights of a year are crowded into a day, an hour; and the ignorant + reader of their obituary sighs mournfully, computing their lives by a + false reckoning. Yet after all, we have been disposed to regard the + death of the young as something unnatural; the violent rending asunder + of soul and body; the penalty enacted of a life artificial in its modes + and repugnant to nature. As Cicero has beautifully expressed it, it is + like the sudden quenching of a bright flame; but the death of the virtuous + Old is as expected, as free from terror as the sunset; it is the + coming of a gentle sleep after a long and weary day.</p> + + <p>Travers was in the very gush and spring-tide of his youth; yet + crowned as he was with blessings, and every attribute for their most + perfect enjoyment, the true secret of his too fond desire to live, was that + <em>he loved</em>:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i12">‘He loved but one,</p> + <p>And that loved one, alas! could ne’er be his.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>In her the poetry of his life centred; and as a river is swollen by divers + rills, and tributary streams, so all the thoughts and passions of his soul + hurried with a pure and rapid tide to mingle and be lost in one. But + illness, and the long looking at death, and above all, the Christian’s + hope, enable us one by one to break off the dearest ties, and to renounce + whatever we most love on earth. And so my young friend in good time + emerged from the cloud which obscured his prospects, and saw clearly + beyond the vale. It is not long since, being well assured that his fate + was inevitable, he expressed a desire, which he carried into execution, + to visit once more his well-loved haunts, and take a solemn farewell of + them all. As one grasps the hand of a friend at parting, he looked his + last at things which were inanimate. He rambled in the deep, dark + groves whither he had so often gone in health, to enjoy their Gothic + grandeur, to breathe the spirit of the religion they inspire, or to murmur + in their deepest shades the accents of his pure and passionate love. + He inscribed his name for the last time upon the smooth bark of a tree; + then leaving them forever, as he emerged into the gay meadows, he + turned to me with tears and said:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Ye woods, and wilds, whose melancholy gloom</p> + <p>Accords with my soul’s sadness, and draws forth</p> + <p>The voice of sorrow from my bursting heart!’</p> + </div> + </div> + + + <p>He clambered the steep hill-side, and sinking exhausted beneath a + smitten tree, enjoyed the picturesqueness of the scene; the meadows, + the streams, the pasture-grounds, the dappled herds, the sereneness of + the summer skies, cleft by the wing of the musical lark, in all their + purity of blue. He sat beside the sea-shore, and watched the big billows + breaking and bursting at his feet; and as he looked where the + waters and the sky met together in the far horizon, he exclaimed, ‘Now + indeed do I long to fly away!’ Then he returned to his pillow, never + to go forth again. ‘I shall die,’ he said, ‘when the season is in its + prime and glory; when the fields are green and the trees leafy; and the + sunlight shall shimmer down through the branches where the birds sing + over my grave.’ Then casting a look at his books, where they stood + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page131" name="page131"></a>131</span>neatly arranged on the well-filled shelves, he lamented that he had not + time to garner half the stores of a beautiful literature; to satisfy his + perpetual thirst; to drink to the full at the ‘pure wells of English undefiled.’ + There were the Greek poets, whom he would have more intimately + cherished, (he had been lately absorbed in the sublimity of the + ‘Prometheus Vinctus;’) there was the great master and anatomizer of + the human heart, who knew how to detail the springs of action common + to all ages, the paragon of that deep learning which is not derived from + books, but gleaned by his genius from all nature with a rare intuition, + and with an incomprehensible power of research. In him what mines + of instruction, what sources of undiscovered delight, what philosophy + yet to be grappled with, to be laid to the heart! Charles Lamb has with + a quaint melancholy depicted the pain of parting from his books, and + from the indefinable delights laid up in each dear folio. Yet after all, + what is the literature of one age but the reproduction, the remoulding, + the condensation of the literature of another; the loss and destruction + of its waste ore, but the re-setting of its gems, and the renewed investiture + of all its beauties. There is no glowing thought, no exquisite + conception, no sublime and beautiful idea, which is not imperishable as + the mind itself, and which shall not be carried on from age to age, or + if destroyed or lost upon the written page, revived by some happy coincidence + of intellectual being, and perpetuated and enjoyed, here or + hereafter, wherever mind exists. A communion like this will be a + communion of spirits. A finer organization, expanded faculties shall + rapidly consume the past; but oh, the future! what glories are to be + crowded into its immensity? How shall knowledge be commensurate + with the stars, or wander over the universe? Now bring me the written + Revelation, the written word. It clasps within its volume all excellencies, + all sublimities of speech; secrets which could not be developed + by reason, nor found in the arcana of human wisdom. Henceforth + this shall be my only companion, and its promises shall light my passage + over the grave.’</p> + + <p>I marked the lustrous beaming of his eye, and from that time he + looked at all things on the ‘bright side.’ His very love could think + upon its object without a tear, and look forward to a pure and eternal + re-union. At last the hour of dissolution came. I knew it by its unerring + symptoms; yet still I listened to his passionate, poetic converse. + It was for the last time; I was in the chamber of death. What observer + can mistake it; the darkened windows, the stillness, the grouping, + the subdued sobs, the awful watchfulness for the identical moment when + a lovely and intellectual spirit breaks its bonds, as if the strained vision + could detect the spiritual essence. What a heart-sickness comes over + those who love! What a change in the appearance of all things! The + very sun-light is disagreeable, the very skies a mockery; the very + roses unlovely. We look out of the casement, and see the external face + of nature still the same; how heartless, how destitute of sympathy, + now appears the whole world without, with the home, that inner world! + How can those birds sing so sweetly on the branches; how can the + flowers bloom as brightly as ever; how can those children play so + gleefully; how can yon group laugh with such unconcern! He is an + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page132" name="page132"></a>132</span>only son. Though wan, and wasted in all his lineaments, his pure + brow, his gentle expression, tell that he was worthy to be loved. Can + no human power restore him to the arms of a fond mother? It is in vain! + The spirit flutters upon his lips; it has departed. But it has left behind + it a token; a clear, bright impress; a smile of undissembled love and + purity; an expression beaming with the last unutterable peace; the + graces which were so winning upon earth, but which shall attain their + perfection in heaven.</p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">FREEDOM’S BEACON.</h2> + + + <div class="epigram"> + <p>‘To-day, to-day it speaks to us! Its future auditories will be the generations of men, as they rise up + before it and gather round it’</p> + <p class="sign"><span class="author">Webster.</span></p> + </div> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘To-day it speaks to us!’</p> + <p class="i2">Of ‘the times that tried men’s souls,’</p> + <p>When hostile ships rode where yon bay</p> + <p class="i2">Its deep blue waters rolls:</p> + <p>When the war-cloud dark was lowering</p> + <p class="i2">Portentous o’er the land;</p> + <p>When the vassal troops of Britain came</p> + <p class="i2">With bayonet, sword and brand.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘To-day it speaks to us!’</p> + <p class="i2">Of brave deeds nobly done,</p> + <p>When patriot hearts beat high with hope,</p> + <p class="i2">Ere Freedom’s cause was won:</p> + <p>Of the conflict fierce, where fell</p> + <p class="i2">New-England’s valiant men,</p> + <p>Who waved their country’s banner high,</p> + <p class="i2">Though warm blood dyed it then!</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And will its voice be still</p> + <p class="i2">When the thousands of to-day,</p> + <p>Who have come like pilgrim-worshippers,</p> + <p class="i2">From earth shall pass away?</p> + <p>Oh no! ‘the potent orator’</p> + <p class="i2">To future times shall tell</p> + <p>Where Prescott, Brooks, and Putnam fought,</p> + <p class="i2">Where gallant Warren fell.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>’Twill speak of these, and others—</p> + <p class="i2">Of brave men, born and nurst</p> + <p>In stormy times, on Danger’s lap.</p> + <p class="i2">Who dared Oppression’s worst:</p> + <p>Of Vernon’s chief, and he who came</p> + <p class="i2">Across the Atlantic flood,</p> + <p>To offer to the patriot’s God</p> + <p class="i2">A sacrifice of blood.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Long as the ‘Bay State’ cherishes</p> + <p class="i2">One thought of sainted sires,</p> + <p>Long as the day-god greets her cliffs,</p> + <p class="i2">Or gilds her domes and spires;</p> + <p>Long as her granite hills remain</p> + <p class="i2">Firm fixed, so long shall be</p> + <p>Yon Monument on Bunker’s height</p> + <p class="i2">A beacon for the free!</p> + </div> + </div> + + </div> + <div class="article"> + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page133" name="page133"></a>133</span> + + <h2 class="title">A WINTER TRIP TO TRENTON FALLS.</h2> + + <h3 class="subtitle">IN THREE SCENES.</h3> + + <h4 class="chapter_title">SCENE FIRST.</h4> + + <p><span class="first_word">Morning</span>; eight on the clock. <span class="special_name">Billing’s Hotel</span>, Trenton. Outside, + a clear bright sun glancing down through an atmosphere sparkling with + frost, upon as fine a road for a sleigh-ride as ever tempted green-mountain + boys and girls for a moonlight flit. Inside, a well-furnished breakfast-table, + beef-steak, coffee, toast, etc., etc. On the one side of it your + correspondent; serious, as if he considered breakfast a thing to be attended + to. He is somewhat, as the lady on the other side of the table + says, <em>somewhat</em> in the ‘sear leaf,’ by which name indeed she is pleased + to call him; but there is enough of spring in her, to suffice for all deficiencies + in him. Like the morning, she is a <em>little</em> icy, but sunshiny, + sparkling, exhilarating, thoughtful, youthful—and decided. She takes + no marked interest in the breakfast.</p> + + <p>‘Sear leaf!’ Madam, say on.</p> + + <p>‘I wish to go to the Falls.’</p> + + <p>‘To what!’</p> + + <p>‘To the Falls—to Trenton Falls.’</p> + + <p>He drops his knife and fork. ‘Whew! what! in winter?—in the + snow?—on the ice?’</p> + + <p>‘Certainly; that is just the season.’</p> + + <p>‘Crazy! You were there in the <span class="keep_together">summer——’</span></p> + + <p>‘I know it; every one goes there in summer. I must see them + now. There’s no time like it; in their drapery of snow and ice; in + the sternness and solitude, the wild grandeur of winter!’</p> + + <p>‘How you run on! You’ll miss the cars at Utica.’</p> + + <p>‘I don’t care.’</p> + + <p>‘You’ll be a day later in New-York.’</p> + + <p>‘I don’t care. I must see them in their hoary head.’</p> + + <p>‘You wish to see if they look as well in gray hairs as I do, perhaps.’</p> + + <p>‘Yes.’</p> + + <p>‘You really must go?’</p> + + <p>‘Yes.’</p> + + <p>‘You are a very imperious young lady; and allow me to say, that + although some young <span class="keep_together">gentlemen——’</span></p> + + <p>Lady, interrupting him: ‘Shall I ring the bell?’ She rings it. Enter + landlord. She orders the horse and cutter.</p> + + <h4 class="chapter_title">SCENE SECOND.</h4> + + <p>Enter landlord: ‘All ready, Sir.’</p> + + <p>‘Will you allow me to ask if your feet are warmly clad, Madam?’</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page134" name="page134"></a>134</span>‘I am ready for the ascent of Mont Blanc, or a ramble with a hunter + upon the shore of Hudson’s Bay.’</p> + + <p>‘Very well; now for the cutter.’</p> + + <p>‘Landlord, just step round, if you please, and put that buffalo-robe a + little more closely about the lady. Hold fast, hostler! That horse + likes any thing better than standing still.’</p> + + <p>‘Ay, ay, Sir.’</p> + + <p>‘Now we are ready. Let go! Away we dash; ‘on for the Falls!’ + Gently, my good horse, gently round this corner; now ‘go ahead!’ + How do you like my steed, Madam?’</p> + + <p>‘A rein-deer could not transact this little business better.’</p> + + <p>‘Is not this a glorious morning?’</p> + + <p>‘Vivifying to the utmost! How far we fail of becoming acquainted + with the face of nature, when we only come to look upon it in summer! + It is as if one should only look upon the human face in the hues of + youth, and never upon the gray head; on the brow where high thoughts + have left their impress; on the face which deeper and sterner knowledge, + research, patience, have made eloquent, while stealing away the + rose. As for me, though I am but a girl, I like to see sometimes an old + man; one who in the trial-hour of life has kept his integrity; and when + the snows of age fall on him, he gently bends beneath their weight, like + those old cedars yonder by the way-side, beneath their weight of snow. + Wherever the eye can pierce their white vesture, all is still deep spring-green + beneath; unchanged at heart—strong and true. So I like to + look on you, Sere Leaf.’</p> + + <p>‘Thank you! You have a gift at compliments.’</p> + + <p>‘Summer reminds one of feeling and Lalla Rookh; Winter; of intellect + and Paradise Lost.’</p> + + + <p>‘How your voice rings in this clear air! Do you know what Dean + Swift says a sleigh-ride is like? ‘Sitting in the draft of a door with + your feet in a pail of cold water!’’</p> + + <p>‘Abominable! libellous! Exhilaration and comfort are so blended + in me <span class="keep_together">that——</span> But is not that the house?’</p> + + <p>‘Ay; here we are! Smoke from the chimney; some one is there + to welcome us, no doubt. Gently, my Bucephalus, through this gate! + There comes the landlord. Treat my horse well, if you please; we + are going to the Falls.’</p> + + + <h4 class="chapter_title">SCENE THIRD.</h4> + + + <p>‘Madam, are you ready for the woods?’</p> + + <p>‘Quite. How still the air is! Why don’t you thank me for insisting + on coming? You have no gratitude. There’s not two inches of + snow on the ground. It all seems piled upon these grand old trees. + There! see that tuft of it falling and now spreading into a cloud of + spangles in the sun-light which streams down by those old pines. Hark! + the roar of waters! The sound seems to find new echoes in these + snow-laden boughs, and lingers as if loth to depart.’</p> + + <p>‘This way, Madam; the trees are bent too low over the path to allow + a passage there. We are near the bank which overlooks the first fall. + Take my arm; the brink may be icy. Lo! the abyss!’</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page135" name="page135"></a>135</span>‘Magnificent! What a rush of waters! How the swollen stream + foams and rages!’</p> + + <p>‘And see! the pathway under the shelving rock where we passed + in summer is completely colonnaded by a row of tall ice pillars; gigantic, + symmetrical—fluted, even. What Corinthian shaft ever equalled them! + What capital ever rivalled the delicacy or grace of those ice-and-hemlock + wreaths about their summits!’</p> + + <p>‘And see those pines, rank above rank, higher and higher; stately + and still and snow-robed like tall centinels! Perhaps, Sear Leaf, the + Old Guard might have stood thus in the Russian snows over <span class="special_name">Napoleon</span>, + when he bivouacked on the hill-side, and sought rest while his spirit + was as wildly tossed as the waters that dash beneath us.’</p> + + <p>‘Yes, Lady; or it may be that these trees in their perpetual green, + in their calmness and dignity, may be emblematic of the way in which + the angels who watch on earth look down on man. Perfect rest on perfect + unrest.’</p> + + <p>‘Ah! you grow gloomy.’</p> + + <p>‘Took I not my hue from you? On, then, for the higher fall!’</p> + + <p>‘These trees seem to have increased in stature since the summer we + were here. As we proceed, the snow lies thicker on them, and the + branches seem closer locked; the roof overhead more complete. How + still the woods are! Our very foot-fall is noiseless.’</p> + + <p>Influenced by the scene, they pass on in silence along the path which + leads round the foot of the cone-like hill toward the cottage by the higher + Falls, whose deep roar now breaks upon the ear, and rolls through the + motionless forest. Thus then the Lady to Sear Leaf:</p> + + <p>‘Has <span class="special_name">God</span> any other temple like this?’</p> + + <p>‘Never a one, reared by any hand save His!’</p> + + <p>‘What organ ever rolled so deep a bass through arches so grand! + See how the sunlight glances amid the gnarled branches of the roof, and + here and there falls through on the floor below; making those low icy + forms look like the shrubs of the valley of diamonds in the eastern + story. Just so it is that the light of truth struggles through entangled + and dark mazes of human error, and here and there illuminate some + humble mind with its pure ray; while others, tall and strong and + haughty, like those old trees, are left darkened.’</p> + + <p>‘You have a noble nature, and should be nobly mated. But here we + are upon the brow of the hill which leads to the cottage. The snow is + deeper here: gently, now; a slide down this bank might check even + <em>your</em> enthusiasm. Take my arm; there—so; safe at the bottom! Let + us go forward upon the platform of the cottage over the Falls. No + bench? Well, sit upon my cloak.’</p> + + <p>‘No, I won’t.’</p> + + <p>‘You must. There; be <em>pleased</em> to sit and rest. What a gorgeous + display of frost-work and flashing light on fantastic forms of ice! How + the spray rises and waves and changes its hues in the sun! And the + trees, how delicately each sprig of the evergreens is covered with a + dress so white and shining ‘as no fuller on earth could whiten them.’’</p> + + <p>‘Even so, Sear Leaf; And I love to think that the same one who + wove the glorious dress to which you refer, to gladden Peter, made this + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page136" name="page136"></a>136</span>dazzling drapery, and gave us eyes to look upon it. It recalls to my + mind the song of the Seraphim: ‘The whole earth is full of thy glory!’’</p> + + <p>‘Did they not, Lady, sing of a moral glory?’</p> + + <p>‘No; decidedly no. There was no moral glory in the earth when + they sang that song. Even the chosen people of <span class="special_name">God</span> are then and + there denounced as having abandoned Him. No; it was the glory of + the works of His hands, such as we look upon this day, which elicited + their praise.’</p> + + <p>‘I believe your exegesis is right. The scene is glorious. Summer + in all her loveliness has no dress like this. She has no hues equal to + the play of colors on these walls and columns of ice, extending far as + the eye can reach down the ravine, and towering in more than colossal + grandeur. The water is in treble volume, and force and voice; and + as it rolls its white folds of spotless foam down the valley, it reminds + one of the great white throne of the Revelations, and this wavy foam the + folds of the robe that filled the temple.’</p> + + <p>‘It is inexpressibly, oppressively beautiful, Sear Leaf!’</p> + + <p>‘Speaking of Revelation, how accurate is the description in Manfred + of this scene!’</p> + + <p>‘Let me hear it:’</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">It</span> is not noon; the sun-bow’s rays still arch</p> + <p>The torrent with the many hues of heaven,</p> + <p>And roll the sheeted silver’s waving column</p> + <p>O’er the crags headlong perpendicular,</p> + <p>And fling its lines of foaming light along</p> + <p>And to and fro, like the pale courser’s tail,</p> + <p>The giant steed to be bestrode by Death,</p> + <p>As told in the apocalypse.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>‘Well, Madam, why are you silent? Shall we go?’</p> + + <p>‘No. I could stay here till nightfall. I was thinking of the lines + succeeding those you have repeated:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i12">——‘No eyes</p> + <p>But mine now drink the sight of loveliness,’’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>‘Am I nobody?’</p> + + <p>‘We are alone here. How many of the light of heart, in youth and + strength and beauty, climbed these rocks, shouted in these old woods, + and gathered the summer flowers along these banks—and passed away! + Where are they now! Some who wrote their names in the traveller’s + book in this cottage, have them now written by others on their tombstone. + One I knew well, who, full of health and beauty, passed up this + wild ravine, who has faded like the flowers she culled, and is now in her + father’s house, to pass in a few more days to heaven. And of all the + rest, did we know their history, what a picture would it give of life!’</p> + + <p>‘You are thoughtful for one so young.’</p> + + <p>‘Are not twenty years enough to make one a moment thoughtful? + Tell me now, thou of the gray head, of what art <em>thou</em> thinking?’</p> + + <p>‘Of earth’s fairest scene, blent with her fairest daughter.’</p> + + <p>‘Bravo! For what fair lady on your native mountains did you frame + that compliment twenty years ago?’</p> + + <p>‘Madam!’</p> + + <p>‘Well?’</p> + + <p>‘It is time to return.’</p> + + <p class="sign"><span class="author">G. P. T.</span></p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page137" name="page137"></a>137</span></p> + <h2 class="title">THE RUINS OF BURNSIDE.</h2> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Sadly</span>, amid this once delightful plain,</p> + <p class="i2">Stern ruin broods o’er crumbling porch and wall,</p> + <p>And shapeless stones, with moss o’ergrown, remain</p> + <p class="i2">To tell, Burnside, the story of thy fall:</p> + <p>These ancient oaks, although decaying, green,</p> + <p>Like weary watchers, guard the solemn scene.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Where cowslip cup and daisy sweetly bloomed,</p> + <p class="i2">Hemlock and fern, in rank luxuriance spread;</p> + <p>Where rose and lily once the air perfumed,</p> + <p class="i2">Wild dock and nettle sprout, no fragrance shed:</p> + <p>And here no more the throstle’s mellow lay</p> + <p>Awakes with gladsome song the jocund day.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>O’er yon church wall the ivy creeps, as fain</p> + <p class="i2">To shield it from thy withering touch, Decay;</p> + <p>No pastor ever more shall there explain</p> + <p class="i2">The sacred text, nor with his hearers, pray</p> + <p>To the Eternal Throne for grace divine;</p> + <p>Nor sing His praise, nor taste the bread and wine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And here of yore the parish school-house stood,</p> + <p class="i2">Where flaxen-pated boys were taught to read;</p> + <p>At merry noon, in wild unfettered mood,</p> + <p class="i2">They rushed with boisterous glee to stream or mead;</p> + <p>The care-worn teacher homeward wends his way,</p> + <p>And freer feels than his free boys at play.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Yon roofless cot, which still the alders shade,</p> + <p class="i2">While all around is desolate and sere,</p> + <p>Perchance the dwelling of some village maid,</p> + <p class="i2">Who fondly watched her aged parents here;</p> + <p>And with her thrifty needle, or her wheel,</p> + <p>Earned for the lowly three the scanty meal.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Close by yon smithy stood the village inn,</p> + <p class="i2">Where farmers clinched each bargain o’er a glass;</p> + <p>And oft, amid mirth’s unrestricted din,</p> + <p class="i2">Would Time with softer foot, and swifter pass.</p> + <p>The husband here his noisy revel kept,</p> + <p>While by her lonely hearth the good wife wept.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>At lazy twilight, ’neath yon ancient elm,</p> + <p class="i2">The village statesmen met in grave debate,</p> + <p>And sagely told, if at their country’s helm,</p> + <p class="i2">How bravely they would steer the ship of state</p> + <p>From treacherous quicksands or from leeward shore,</p> + <p>And all they said, betrayed their wondrous lore.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I’ve seen the thoughtless rustic pass thee by;</p> + <p class="i2">In thee, perhaps, his ancestors were bred,</p> + <p>And, at my question, point without a sigh,</p> + <p class="i2">Where calmly rest thy unremembered dead;</p> + <p>I asked thy fate, and, as he answered, smiled,</p> + <p>‘Thus looked these ruins since I was a child.’</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Methinks, Burnside, I see thee in thy prime,</p> + <p class="i2">When thou wert blessed with innocent content,</p> + <p>Thy robust dwellers, prodigal of time,</p> + <p class="i2">Yet still with cheerful heart to labor went;</p> + <p>Nor envied lordly pomp, with courtly train,</p> + <p>Of empty rank and fruitful acres vain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page138" name="page138"></a>138</span>Methinks I see a summer evening pass,</p> + <p class="i2">When thou wert peopled, and in sinless glee</p> + <p>Methinks the lusty ploughman and his lass</p> + <p class="i2">Dance with unmeasured mirth, enraptured, free,</p> + <p>While seated from the joyous throng apart,</p> + <p>The blind musician labors at his art.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Though fancy, wayward as the vagrant wind,</p> + <p class="i2">May picture scenes of unambitious taste,</p> + <p>Yet vainly now, we look around to find</p> + <p class="i2">Thy early beauty mid this dreary waste;</p> + <p>Unmourned, unmissed, thus in thy fallen state,</p> + <p>Thou art an emblem of the common fate!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Before the stern destroyer all shall bow,</p> + <p class="i2">And sweet Burnside, like thine, ’twill be my lot</p> + <p>To lie a ruin, tenantless and low,</p> + <p class="i2">By friends unmentioned, and by foes forgot:</p> + <p>As earth’s uncounted millions I shall be—</p> + <p>No mortal think, no record speak of me!</p> + </div> + </div> + <p class="sign"><span class="author">Kenneth Rookwood.</span></p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">CORONATION OF GEORGE THE FOURTH.</h2> + + <h3 class="byline">BY THE LATE WILLIAM ABBOTT.</h3> + + <p><span class="first_word">There</span> is one great and peculiar characteristic in all the movements + of <span class="special_name">John Bull</span>. A more gullible epitome of the human race does not + exist. Let the case be right or wrong, only apply to him an inflammatory + preparation, through the medium of a little exaggerated truth, and + his frame is prepared to receive the largest dose of monstrous improbabilities + that can possibly be administered; and till he has had his ‘full + swing’ in the expression of his outraged feelings and boiling indignation, + you might as easily attempt to check the mighty torrent of Niagara. + John, however, is a free agent, and on the truest principles of freedom + will hear but one side of the question as long as his prejudices continue; + and after all, I believe it may fairly be put down to an honest impulse + in favor of the oppressed, and a determination that no man, however + elevated in rank, shall be screened from that equal justice which England + delights in according. But the scales of justice, though equally + balanced in the courts, get so bruised and bespattered in the minds of + the fickle multitude, that time alone will bring them to their proper + equilibrium. Let us travel back to the impeachment of the <span class="special_name">Duke of + York</span>, in the case of the celebrated <span class="special_name">Mrs. Clark</span>. To attempt to palliate + the acts of His Royal Highness was to commit an overt act of treason + against the sovereign people; to admit his indiscretions, but deny his + guilty participation, or even knowledge of the peculations committed in + his name, would expose one to the reputation of being either a fool or a + madman. The sage counsellors of the city, those bright constellations + immortalized in all ages, not only set the noble example of awarding + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page139" name="page139"></a>139</span>the freedom of the city to the immortal Colonel Wardle for his + wholesale calumnies, but services of plate poured in from all parts; and + even a portion of the legislators of Great Britain were offering up their + humble adoration at the shrine of an accomplished courtezan. What + was the result? Reflection gradually triumphed; all the gross and + filthy exaggerations were sifted through the dirty channels which had + given rise to them; a sober judgment at length was given; and the + Duke, though not freed from the responsibility of having been betrayed + into great errors, was honorably and universally acquitted of all intentional + wrong. From that moment a more popular prince was not in + existence; and with the exception of those human infirmities ‘which flesh + is heir to,’ few men descended to the grave more really beloved. The + chief of the gang of persecutors, Colonel Wardle, shrunk into miserable + retirement, and died ‘unwept, unhonored, and unsung.’</p> + + + <p>This, however, was nothing when compared with the mighty fever of + excitement produced in the public mind by the arrival of <span class="special_name">Queen Caroline</span> + in England. Here was political diet to satisfy the cravings of all + parties; a stepping-stone to popularity in which all ranks participated. + The peer, the lawyer, the church-warden, down to the very skimmings + of the parish; sober rational people; the class so honorably prized in + England, the middle class, also became enthusiasts in the cause of the + ‘most virtuous Queen that ever graced these realms.’ The independent + voters of Westminster; the illustrious class of donkey-drivers; the retailers + of cats’-meat; all, all felt a noble indignation at the treatment of + ‘<span class="special_name">Keveen Caroline</span>.’ Days that if allotted to labor would have increased + the comforts of their homes and families, were freely sacrificed to + processions in honor of Her Majesty. Addresses poured in from every + parish in the vast metropolis; representatives of virtuous females were + hired, all dressed in white—sweet emblem of their purity! Perhaps + England was never nearer the brink of engulphing ruin. The high + Tory aristocracy almost stood alone at this momentous period. The + public sentiment took but one tone at the theatres; and ‘<span class="special_name">God</span> save the + <span class="special_name">Queen</span>’ was continually called for. At Covent-Garden and Drury-Lane + an occasional struggle was made against the popular cry, but it + was speedily drowned in clamor. The trial commenced, and an unfortunate + witness appeared on behalf of the crown, who obtained the universal + cognomen of ‘<i>Non mi Ricordo</i>.’ This added fuel to the fire; and + the irritation of the public mind was roused into phrenzy by the impression + that perjured witnesses were suborned from foreign countries to + immolate the Queen upon the altar of vengeance. If the Queen’s + counsel had been satisfied with allowing the evidence for the prosecution + to remain uncontradicted, and suffered the case to stand upon its + own merits, Her Majesty must have been acquitted; but ‘by your own + lips I will condemn you’ was made too manifest in the defence. The + division left so small a majority, that ministers wisely abandoned any + farther prosecution of the case. I heard most of the speeches of the + defence; and it was curious to observe the different modes of argument + adopted. <span class="special_name">Brougham</span> was an advocate, pleading eagerly a doubtful + cause; <span class="special_name">Denman</span> was the enthusiastic defender of a Queen conscious of + her innocence, and setting all personal considerations at defiance. The + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page140" name="page140"></a>140</span>public feeling, no longer fed by an opposing power, calmly settled down, + and men began to wonder at the cause of their phrenzy. The innocence + of the Queen did not appear so manifest, as the unwise and heartless + treatment she experienced. ‘A widowed wife, a childless mother;’ + these were powerful enough to excite the deepest sympathy; and certainly + a much harder lot could not have befallen the humblest of her sex. Theatres + are very commonly the touchstones by which one may discover the + bearing of the public mind; and Her Majesty, by way of proving it, + visited all the minor theatres, which were densely crowded upon each + attendance. A play was then commanded at the two Theatres Royal. + The effect produced at Drury-Lane I do not recollect; but it is certain + that the announcement at Covent-Garden reduced rather than increased + the receipts. The pit was but moderately attended, and the boxes nearly + deserted. This was a touchstone from which there was no escaping; + and it was really a mortifying scene to witness the utter neglect with + which majesty was received. But alas! the bitter cup of mortification + was to be drained to the very dregs; and the Queen’s own rashness, or + the bad advice of wrong-headed counsellors, hastened the catastrophe.</p> + + + <p>A short period had elapsed, when the public attention was gradually + directed toward <span class="special_name">the Coronation</span>. The court papers teemed with descriptions + of the expected magnificence. The length of time that had + intervened between the coronation of George III. and the intended + pageant of George IV., excited all the feeling of novelty. The known + magnificence of the King, his undisputed taste, and his gallant, princely + bearing, all kept attention on the <i>qui vive</i>. The unfortunate Queen, who + obstinately rejected all compromise, remained in the country; and like + an ignis fatuus, disturbed the serenity of men’s minds, and kept alive a + feeling of anxiety. Mr. Harris, the manager and one of the proprietors + of Covent-Garden, was gifted with a tact always ready to take advantage + of scenes of passing interest. He lost no time in reviving the + second part of Henry IV., with all the splendor of the coronation. The + champion on this occasion excited much more interest than all the beauties + of <span class="special_name">Shakspeare</span>, and the theatre was nightly crowded to suffocation. + The whole company of performers paraded in the procession; and though + a member of the peerage, I cannot exactly call to mind the title I bore; + which, however, with my accustomed good fortune, I exchanged for a + real character at the real coronation. Having the honor of being known + most particularly to the Earl of Glengall, he with the greatest kindness + made me his page upon that memorable occasion. This certainly was + a very distinguished mark of his friendship, for only one Esquire was + allotted to each peer, and the greatest interest was made to obtain those + appointments.</p> + + + <p>The eventful morning came; and London presented at day-break + crowds of carriages of every description, and its floating population + pouring in dense masses to every point that possessed the slightest degree + of interest. Lord Glengall, in order to avoid the misery of passing + through crowded streets, and of being every moment impeded in his + course, engaged apartments in Lambeth, at Godfrey and Jule’s, the + boat-builders, where he slept the night preceding. His lordship had + appointed me to breakfast with him there, at six o’clock on that eventful + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page141" name="page141"></a>141</span>morning; I was resolved to be in time, and at half past two, <span class="small_all_caps">A. M.</span>, I + left my home and fell in with a line of carriages on my way toward + Westminster bridge. I found that many of them had been there from + twelve the preceding night; peers and peeresses in their robes, gently + moving, not hastening, to the desired spot. After waiting some two + hours with exemplary patience, and finding my case entirely hopeless, + I wisely took the precaution of driving to the water-side at Chelsea, for + the purpose of procuring a boat. As it is possible that some of the distinguished + artists of the day may wish to convey my appearance to posterity, + I will give a description of my dress; and I shall also feel greatly + obliged, if at the same time they will select the best-looking portrait of + me for the likeness: a scarlet tunic, embroidered with gold-thread; a + purple satin sash, with a deep gold fringe; a ruff <i>à la Elizabeth</i>; white + satin pantaloons; shoes with crimson rosettes; black velvet hat and + feathers. My hair, not naturally curling, had been put in graceful + <i>papillote</i> the preceding evening. As I write in the reign of Queen + <span class="special_name">Victoria</span>, the reader will readily believe that people are not much in + the habit of walking about the streets in such a costume. Imagine + therefore my arrival at the watermen’s landing very soon after five + o’clock in the morning; a splendid sun pouring, if not absolutely a flood + of light, yet its lovely beams upon my person. Crowds of little girls and + boys instantly gathered on the spot, receiving me with small voices but + loud huzzahs, as I descended from the carriage. A boat was immediately + ordered; but as there were several at the landing, all but the + one engaged naturally felt the cruelty of not being permitted to come + in for their share of extortion on such an occasion.</p> + + <p>‘I say, Sir,’ said one of the unwashed, ‘them’s a pretty pair of red + ribbands in your shoes; I want just such a pair for my little ’un at + home.’</p> + + + <p>I knew there was only one way of dealing with them; I therefore + put on one of my blandest smiles, and gently replied: ‘Well, my good + fellow, if you will give me your address, I will send you a pair to-morrow.’ + This settled the affair in good humor, and I was suffered to reach + the boat without farther annoyance. We had put into the stream but + a short distance, when I encountered a boat-full of roysterers; for old + father Thames was thickly studded on this occasion with boats of all + classes; when one turned to another in the boat and cried out in the + most lugubrious accents, which did not fail to excite shouts of laughter:</p> + + <p>‘I say, Bill, is that ’ere feller a man or a voman?’</p> + + <p>I thought now I had fairly passed my ordeal and might go on in peace; + but no; we were obliged to pull in near shore, as we were rowing + against tide. Milbank was crowded, and from the midst of the polite + assemblage a gentle female voice cried out:</p> + + <p>‘My eyes! Tom! if there isn’t one of Astley’s riders!’</p> + + <p>I at length arrived at my place of appointment, and had a good hearty + laugh at breakfast over my little annoyances. While engaged in that + interesting meal, the shouts of the people passed across the water. It + was occasioned by the arrival of the Queen, who was refused admittance + to the Abbey. Almost all parties blamed her for the attempt, nor + did she produce the sensation she had evidently calculated upon. It + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page142" name="page142"></a>142</span>was like trying to renew a lost game, when all interest had subsided. + It was the final blow to all her ambitious aspirations, which speedily + ended, where all our vanities must end, in the silent grave. I wish it + to be perfectly understood that I have no idea of entering into a rivalry + with Hume, in giving another History of England; but as these events + of stirring interest passed within my own time, and of which I was a + close observer, I trust the introduction will not appear misplaced; taking + into consideration that I profess to give my general reminiscences, and + not simply to confine them to my profession. Perhaps it would be wise + on my part to drop a veil over the gorgeous spectacle; for like a visit + to the Falls of Niagara, the most enlarged description a prudent person + ought to indulge in, would be simply, ‘I have seen the Falls;’ so if I + were to show my prudence, I should say, ‘I saw the Coronation.’ But + how is it possible to refrain from giving expression, however slight and + sketchy, to scenes of such unexampled magnificence?</p> + + <p>We crossed the river at seven o’clock, and had the advantage of + passing through the private residence of one of the principal officers of + the House of Commons, and marched on to Westminster Hall without + impediment. I had a distinct ticket for the Abbey where I had no duty + to perform; and indeed throughout the day it was purely nominal. I + had therefore all the advantages of passing and repassing at my own + will and discretion, and of paying visits to the Palace-Yard to different + friends who had secured places to witness the procession. On first + entering that most magnificent of halls, it was impossible not to be + struck with its gigantic proportions and superb embellishments. Galleries + were erected for the peeresses, foreign ambassadors, and the most + distinguished visitors. Admirable arrangements were also made for + that portion of the public who had been so fortunate as to procure a + Lord Chamberlain’s ticket. Costume also was strictly attended to here, + no gentleman being admitted save in full court-suit or military uniform; + and the ladies of course shone in all the splendor that gave grace to + their lovely forms, and added a native lustre to all the artificial aids + which gave such light and brilliancy to the glowing scene.</p> + + <p>The monotony of the early part of the morning was relieved by the + absurd evolutions of the gentlemen from the cinque-ports who had the + privilege of carrying the Canopy of the Cloth of Gold over His Majesty. + If truth may be told on state occasions, it must be said that they did + not perform their movements with much grace. They were not regularly + disciplined troops, but fairly occupied the position of the ‘awkward + squad.’ It had the effect, however, of exciting a good deal of merriment; + indeed I have seldom seen a rehearsal produce such striking + effects. The high and imposing ceremonies of the Church, partaking + largely of the grand and mystic formula which belonged to our cathedral + service before the Reformation, and which again bids fair, at least + partially, to occupy its altars, impressed upon the vast and brilliant + assemblage gathered beneath the Gothic roof a mingled feeling of + royalty and devotion, which was in former days the very essence of + chivalry, and which seemed to have taken new growth in this advanced + age, from the associating link of ancient costume, which met the eye + at every turn. The austere and solemn silence of the place was lost + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page143" name="page143"></a>143</span>in the mingled feelings which occupied all hearts; and as the lofty + chants of the church swelled into divine melody, a half-breathing, a + solemn, suppressed emotion, spoke deeply to the heart of other realms + above. It is impossible to hear the loud swell of the organ and exquisite + melody of the varieties of the human voice harmoniously blended, and + bursting forth together in one loud and glorious song of praise, without + feeling that our destiny is more than earthly. It should be taken into + consideration that there is a vast multitude on the outside, who are + really getting impatient for their part of the pageant. It is true, those + who have secured places in the different splendid pavilions erected in + the immediate vicinity of the platform, are more at their ease, and with + the aid of long purses can indulge in all the luxuries so amply provided + by liberal caterers; but still ‘fair play’ is our motto; and we will at + once throw open the abbey-doors and marshal forth the most brilliant + <i>cortége</i> that ever issued from its sacred walls; the herb-woman, Miss + Fellows, and her attendants, strewing the path with flowers, blending the + red rose and the white together, symbolical of the fact, that ‘no longer + division racked the state,’ but that unreserved allegiance was due to the + monarch before them. The excitement of the morning with respect to + the <span class="special_name">Queen</span> had not entirely subsided; and some few greetings must + have caught the <span class="special_name">King’s</span> ear, that were not expressive of unbounded + loyalty; but these formed a very slight proportion of the people. <span class="special_name">Lord + Castlereagh</span> came in also for his share of these unseemly greetings; + but his noble glance and really majestic appearance; his smile, not + of disdain, but which marked an unflinching firmness of resolve; + speedily converted their anger into applause. <span class="special_name">The Duke of York</span> and + <span class="special_name">Prince Leopold</span> excited great interest by their dignified and elegant + deportment. The <span class="special_name">King</span>, as he passed up the hall, was greeted with the + most enthusiastic cheering and the waving of handkerchiefs from the + élite of both sexes; but he appeared oppressed and worn down with + fatigue, in which doubtless anxiety had its portion. His Majesty then + retired to an apartment prepared for his reception, to take some repose + during the royal banquet.</p> + + <p>The long tables running down the hall on each side were covered + with rich damask; triumphal arches and every ingenious device that + could by possibility bear upon the pageant, were lavishly placed upon + the tables, splendidly ornamented with artificial flowers, rivalling the + goddess Flora herself. The entrance to the hall was a grand Gothic + archway; but one of the most singular effects produced, was by the + numerous chandeliers in <i>ormolu</i> hanging from the lofty roof, sending + forth myriads of little twinkling stars, that essayed to dim the light of + the sun, who here and there sent in his beams through the narrow loopholes + and windows of the hall, to catch a glimpse of the splendid ceremonies. + The banquet commenced; and it was not a little amusing to + see the city authorities maintain their charter by commencing a most + formidable attack upon the turtle and the viands which were so profusely + spread over the table. Not a moment was lost. Triumphal + arches quickly assumed the appearance of shapeless ruins, and wines + from every quarter of the globe paid a heavy duty upon being deposited + in the city vats!</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page144" name="page144"></a>144</span>At length the martial clangor of the trumpet announced the royal + banquet. His Majesty took his seat on the <i>dais</i>, with the imperial crown + upon his head amid the deafening shouts of the up-standing noblesse of + the land. <span class="special_name">Lord Glengall’s</span> seat was high up in the hall; and next to + him, on one side, was the <span class="special_name">Earl of Blessington</span>, whom I had the honor + of knowing, and the <span class="special_name">Earl of Falmouth</span> on the other, both of whom are + now gathered to their fathers. They insisted upon my taking a seat + with them, to which of course I was nothing loath; and there I fully + participated in all the luxuries of the table, instead of waiting like an humble + page for the remains of the feast. Lord Blessington requested me + to go into the peeresses’ gallery and endeavour to procure refreshments + for <span class="special_name">Lady Blessington</span>. I had never seen her ladyship; but her famed + beauty and talents did not render the task one of great difficulty. Amid + a blaze of beauty, I soon discovered the fair lady, to whom I was to enact + my part of Esquire. In return for the attentions I had the good fortune + to offer, I received most gracious smiles, and the blandest of speeches, + and felt myself rise in stature as I again paced the ancient hall. At + length one of the most imposing ceremonies commenced; and many a + swan-like neck was stretched to catch a glimpse of the unapproachable + magnificence of the scene; the entrance of the champion (accompanied + by the hero of a thousand battles,) in a full suit of armor and superbly + mounted on a white charger with a plume of feathers on its head; the + <span class="special_name">Marquis of Anglesea</span>, similarly caparisoned; the <span class="special_name">Lord Howard</span> of + Effingham, and others of comparatively less note. It had been whispered + that Mr. Horace Seymour (now <span class="special_name">Sir Horace</span>,) had been selected + by His Majesty for that important character, and his splendid appearance + would perhaps under other circumstances have justified the choice. The + right, however, was hereditary, and the real representative would indeed + have shown craven, and unworthy the high distinction, if he had relinquished + so honorable a position. The anecdote which is related at the + coronation of George III., of the challenge having been accepted in behalf + of <span class="special_name">Prince Charles Stuart</span>, after the gauntlet was dashed upon the + earth, was here omitted; for here, happily, there was an undisputed + succession. After the champion had drank to the health of ‘<span class="special_name">George the + Fourth</span>, the rightful monarch of Great Britain,’ in a cup of gold sent + by His Majesty, (and which is retained by the champion,) he and the + accompanying nobles backed their horses the whole distance down the + hall, gracefully bowing to their monarch at distinct intervals, amid the + most enthusiastic cheering.</p> + + + <p><span class="special_name">Walter Scott</span> was there, his eye sparkling with delight, and devouring + that magnificence of which <em>his</em> pen alone could convey the unlimited + splendor. <i>Non nobis Domine</i> was given by a numerous choir most + superbly; and the whole of the ceremonies were at length concluded. + I left the hall with the loss of my cap and feathers, and in a humble + beaver, which I borrowed from a friend in the immediate vicinity, I + elbowed my way through the crowd, sated with splendor and fairly exhausted. + London was a blaze of light, and Hyde Park, I presume for + the first time, was brilliantly illuminated. Fireworks of the most dazzling + description shot meteor-like from every open spot in the vast metropolis, + and the pyrotechnical art displayed in the parks at the government + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page145" name="page145"></a>145</span>expense beggared all description. As I have already stated, + Covent-Garden Theatre made a golden harvest by anticipating the + coronation; but it was left for Drury-Lane to give as near as possible a + fac-simile of the one that had so recently taken place. A platform was + thrown over the centre of the pit, across which the procession took place. + <span class="special_name">Elliston</span> repeated it so often to crowded houses, that at length he fancied + himself the <span class="special_name">King</span> <i>de jure</i>; and his enthusiasm carried him to such + an extent, that on one occasion he stopped suddenly in the centre of the + platform, and with a most gracious and benignant smile, extended his + arms at full length and gave the audience a regal blessing, in the following + pithy sentence: ‘<em>Bless ye, my people!</em>’</p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">I FOLLOW.</h2> + + <div class="epigram"> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="centered_line">‘O! mon roi!</p> + <p class="centered_line">Prends comme moi racine, ou donne-moi des ailes</p> + <p class="centered_line">Comme a toi!’</p> + </div> + </div> + <p class="sign"><span class="author">Victor Hugo.</span></p> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Eagle</span>! that coursing by on mighty pinion,</p> + <p class="i2">Cleaving the cloud with firm and dauntless breast,</p> + <p>Hast deigned to stoop thee from thy proud dominion,</p> + <p class="i2">To circle in thy flight my lowly nest.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I mark thee now, all heavenward ascending,</p> + <p class="i2">Thy far form cresting the cerulean,</p> + <p>Above earth’s shadows on thy pathway wending,</p> + <p class="i2">Thine eye of fire aye fixed upon the sun.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh! as I watch thee, all unfettered sweeping</p> + <p class="i2">High o’er the rift that weighs my pinion here,</p> + <p>I yearn like thee my plume in ether steeping,</p> + <p class="i2">To soar away through yon free atmosphere.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Thine eye was on my spirit’s humble dwelling,</p> + <p class="i2">And as I met its all pervading rays,</p> + <p>I felt along each vein new nature swelling,</p> + <p class="i2">And my weak heart grow strong beneath thy gaze.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And thus infused with thine unfearing spirit,</p> + <p class="i2">My wing, that scarcely might essay yon rack,</p> + <p>Casting the feebleness it did inherit,</p> + <p class="i2">Would boldly dare with thee the upward track.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And think not I would sink: no, all unquailing,</p> + <p class="i2">I poise me now to follow on thy way;</p> + <p>To mount the tempest-cloud with nerve unfailing,</p> + <p class="i2">And thread the path whereon the lightnings play.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Press on! strong plumed! on tireless wing upspringing,</p> + <p class="i2">Thy course be ever toward the empyrean;</p> + <p>And at thy side my bonded spirit winging,</p> + <p class="i2">Will mount with thee till thy high goal be won!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><span class="location">New-York, December, 1843.</span> <span class="author">Mary E. Hewitt.</span></p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page146" name="page146"></a>146</span></p> + + <h2 class="title">REMINISCENCES OF A DARTMOOR PRISONER.</h2> + <h3 class="subtitle">NUMBER ONE.</h3> + + + <p><span class="first_word">It</span> was my fortune to be taken prisoner in India during the war of + 1812. I was, with others, confined in Fort William at Calcutta, for + several months, until the authorities could find an opportunity to send + us to England. At length the Bengal fleet being ready for their return + voyage, the prisoners were distributed on board the several vessels + which composed it. I was placed with a few others on board the + ‘Lord Wellington,’ and being in a destitute condition, I agreed to assist + in working the ship to England, at the same rate as the regular hands + on board. The fleet rendezvoused in the near vicinity, and consisted of + something over thirty sail, most of them of the largest class, and equal + in size to a line-of-battle ship. They were well armed, some carrying + thirty or forty guns, with a plentiful supply of muskets, pikes, etc. + This had been customary for many years, as a protection against the + French privateers and men-of-war, which swarmed the Indian ocean; + in many instances proving themselves more than a match for their + enemies, and sometimes beating off large class frigates.</p> + + <p>On going on board, I found between four and five hundred people, + including officers, passengers, and crew. The captain was a large + heavy-built man, very unwieldy, and remarkable only for having a + large, long body placed upon very small legs. He reminded me of an + ill-constructed building, ready to fall by its own weight. He appeared + never to be happy unless he was ‘in hot water,’ either with the passengers + or crew. There were six mates, or more properly lieutenants, + for all the officers were in uniform. There were also a dozen or more + midshipmen, a boatswain and his two mates, gunners, quarter-masters, + armorers, sail-makers, and carpenters in abundance. In short, we + were fitted out in complete man-of-war fashion; not forgetting the + cat-o’-nine-tails, which was used with great liberality. The crew was + made up of all nations, but the majority consisted of broken-down men-of-war’s + men, who being unfit for His Majesty’s service had little fear + of imprisonment. The others were composed of Portuguese, Dutch, + Italian, etc.; and taken altogether, one would have inferred that they + must have been drafted from Falstaff’s regiment of taterdamallions.</p> + + <p>One fine morning the fleet got under way. Nothing note-worthy or + interesting however occurred until we made the island of Ceylon, where + we lay a couple of days; during which time the crew <em>got</em> and <em>kept</em> most + unaccountably drunk. The officers tried every method to solve the + mystery, but without effect. The truth was, the men became suddenly + fond of cocoa-nuts, selecting them from the bum-boats in preference to + any other fruit. The secret was, that the shell was bored before the nut + was quite ripe, the juice poured out, and <i>Arrack</i> substituted in its + place. Our next place of stopping was Madras, where we took in + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page147" name="page147"></a>147</span>more cargo, but no more cocoa-nuts, as no fruit-boats put off to us, + the weather being too rough to admit of it.</p> + + <p>We had now been at sea several weeks, and had many among our + crew and passengers upon the sick-list. Of the former, was a young + man on his first voyage. He had been ill more than a week, and there + being no physician on board, there was little or nothing done for him. + At length he became delirious at intervals; and during the whole of + the last night of his existence he made the most piercing and heart-rending + cries; calling incessantly for his mother and sister, and + lamenting that he should never see them more. Poor fellow! before the + next night he was sewed up in his hammock, with a couple of shot at + his feet; prayers were read over him, and in the presence of his silent + and pensive ship-mates, he was consigned to the ocean, that vast and + sublime grave of countless millions of our race. Several weeks after + this occurrence, one of the passengers, a Frenchman, died of the consumption, + and was buried in the same way; and had not the subject + been of too serious a nature, the event would have partaken somewhat + of the ludicrous. As usual, the shot was placed at the feet of the dead + body, but proved to be insufficient to sink it. The consequence was, + that the head and shoulders remained above the surface, bobbing up and + down, until we lost sight of it in the distance. The captain’s clerk + always officiated as Chaplain at the funerals and divine service; + which latter, by the way, was more of a farce than any thing else; for + I have known more than one instance where they have been interrupted + in the very midst by a squall of wind. Then to see the hubbub; the + congregation dispersed; some ordered aloft, with such pious (though + sometimes more forcible) ejaculations as: ‘Lay aloft there, you lubbers! + <span class="keep_together">D—n</span> your bloods! I’ll see your back-bones! I’ll set the cat at + you!’ etc.</p> + + <p>We now approached the Cape of Good Hope. The weather became + lowering; and as the day advanced, heavy masses of black clouds gradually + arose above the horizon, and palled the sky. Night came on + suddenly, and with it the threatened storm in all its fury. The darkness + was as it were the quintessence of an ink-bottle. <em>Nothing</em> could be + seen, save when the lightning gleamed, or when the rockets which were + sent up from the Commodore, and broke forth, spreading their lurid, + baleful light to give notice to the squadron of their position; then for an + instant the whole scene was lit up with a hideous glare, when all would + subside again into tenfold darkness. This, accompanied by the whistling + of the wind, the roar of thunder, and the booming of a gun at intervals + from the Commodore, to give notice for putting about, gave a + grandeur and sublimity to the scene, which I have never seen surpassed. + Fear gave way to excitement; and the idea of perishing amid + this terrible war of the elements was worth years of the monotony of + every-day life. I thought too of the Flying Dutchman, but did not fall + in with him until some time after, and then it was by day-light, and + without the poetry of ‘darkness, and cloud, and storm.’</p> + + <p>The tempest gradually subsided, and at the end of two or three days + scarcely a breath of wind was to be felt. Angry Nature had changed + her frowns for sportive smiles; the face of the great deep was like polished + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page148" name="page148"></a>148</span>glass; but there was a long swell of the ocean, apparently of miles in + length; its bosom heaving and sinking, as if still oppressed with its late + troubles. Our ship lay utterly unmanageable, her sails flapping idly + against the masts. There was not sufficient wind to make her answer + the helm; and there we lay, rolling and plunging, expecting every moment + to see our masts go by the board. The lower yards dipped at every + roll; and so great was the strain, that it drew the strong iron ring-bolts + by which the guns were secured, and the lashings which fastened the + large water-butts broke loose. This was at night; and the power and + speed with which these heavy articles were driven from side to side was + truly terrific. It took all hands the whole night, (and not without great + danger) to secure them. The next day, a new and greater danger presented + itself in a different form. A large ship, about the size of our + own, lay in the same helpless condition; and by reason of a current, or + some other cause, approached so near that it became truly alarming. + Both vessels were rolling their keels nearly out of the water; and had + they come in contact, it would have been certain destruction to both. + It was necessary that something should be done immediately; and the + crews of both vessels were ordered into their respective boats, with + lines attached to the ships; and with several hours’ hard labor at the + oars, they were enabled to separate them.</p> + + <p>It was about this time that I had a view, not of the Flying Dutchman + exactly, but of his ship, while standing on the forecastle early one morning. + There had been a fog during the night, and a portion of the vapor + still hung over the surface of the water. I had remained in that position + but a few moments, when my attention was called by the boatswain’s-mate, + who stood near by: ‘Look yonder!’ said he, pointing with his finger. + I looked in the direction indicated, and lo! there lay the mystic + ‘Phantom Ship.’ She was only a few yards off; perfectly becalmed, + with no more motion than if painted on canvass, and apparently not over + six feet long, yet perfect in every respect. I was gazing in admiration, + with my eyes rivetted upon the object, when there came a light breath + of air, so light that I could hardly feel it; presently the mist began + gradually to rise and disperse; the ship began to recede; the magic + scene was at an end! A breeze had sprung up, and the phantom-ship + proved to be one of the fleet; and by a signal from the Commodore, she + took her station in line with the other vessels. I never saw any + thing like it before nor since. The atmospheric delusion was astonishing; + but it was nothing new to the old boatswain’s-mate. All the other + vessels were obscured by the fog, and this happened to be the nearest to + us. Had the others been in sight they might (or might not) have presented + the same appearance. Possibly the position of that particular + ship helped to produce the effect. The sight of so large a fleet formed in + two lines, extending four or five miles, each convoyed by a man-of-war, + like a troop of soldiers led on in single-file by its officers, was ‘beautiful + exceedingly;’ especially when the rising or setting sun illuminated + their white sails, and a signal-gun from the Commodore changed their + course; every ship in that vast fleet, at the cry of ‘About ship!’ moving + as by one mind, and gracefully bowing to, and as it were saluting, the + breeze! It was a scene never to be forgotten.</p> + + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page149" name="page149"></a>149</span>The wind gradually increased until it became a smart breeze, and we + soon neared the Island of St. Helena. Here we first heard of the + downfall of <span class="special_name">Napoleon</span>, the greatest warrior of all ages; one who struck + such terror into the souls of combined Europe, that they dared not let + him go free, and imposed upon Great Britain the honorable task of becoming + his jailor; and her very heart quaked within her bosom while + life remained in his; doomed though he was to perpetual and hopeless + exile, upon an isolated rock in the midst of the ocean. On seeing the yellow + flags, with the motto ‘<i>Orange boven</i>,’ flying at the mast-heads of the + shipping, and hearing of the overthrow of the power of France, our old + Dutch boatswain’s-mate, (who in his youth had served with the brave + Admiral De Winter, and who had braved the ‘battle and the breeze’ for + more than half a century,) was touched to the very depths of his stout + heart. He was completely melted, and wept like a child over the fallen + fortunes of <span class="special_name">Napoleon</span>. ‘Holland,’ said he, ‘has lost her best friend. + Who like him will watch over and protect my country!’ He was naturally + of a cheerful disposition; but from that time to the close of the + voyage, he appeared sad and disheartened, and a smile scarce ever + came over his countenance. I may remark in passing, that there were + on board of our ship some ten or fifteen Dutch prisoners, who were the + remnant of a large force that had formerly been garrisoned at the + island of Java. All but these few had been gradually wasted away by + pestilence and the poisoned spears and knives of the natives; and Holland, + being so much engaged in her wars at home, had no means of aiding + so distant a colony. Such was their condition when the island fell + into the hands of the English; and they were rescued from destruction + by the natives, only by becoming prisoners of war to the English. + They were all old men, and some of them could speak a little English: + they used to relate to me their former condition, and talk of their future + prospects. The tale was a sad one. When young they were ‘kidnapped,’ + as they termed it, by the government, as no volunteers could be + got to serve in that sickly climate. They were forced from home and + their parents at a tender age and sent to that far country, whence they + had no prospect of ever returning, or hearing from their friends. Some + of them had been absent for forty years, during which time they had + seen none of their connexions, and seldom heard from them; for many + years all intercourse had been dropped. They felt themselves entire + strangers in the world; they were going to Holland to be sure, but not + to their home. After the lapse of so many years, where could they + seek for their friends? Death and other causes had removed and scattered + them; and they almost dreaded the time when they should again + set their feet upon the land of their fathers. Having been many months + their associate in imprisonment, I took a deep interest in these poor fellows; + participated in their feelings, and parted from them with regret. + Peace to their memories! They have without doubt long ere this + ended their weary pilgrimage of life.</p> + + + <p>We remained at St. Helena several weeks, waiting for the China + fleet, during which time we took in a fresh supply of provisions, water, + etc. This now famed island is nothing more nor less than a huge irregular + block of granite, rising perpendicularly from the midst of the sea. + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page150" name="page150"></a>150</span>The town, what there is of it, is built in a gully or chasm in the rock: + the inhabitants are composed mostly of the military establishment and + those connected with it, with perhaps a few exceptions. The island is + only useful as a stopping-place for outward and homeward bound India-men, + etc; and the inhabitants would be in a state of starvation, were + it not for the supplies of provisions which they obtain from the shipping + which put in there. All manner of coins from all manner of countries + are in circulation here; and all copper coin goes for a penny, be it + twice the size of a dollar, or as small as a five-cent piece. A person + that way minded might soon make a large and curious collection here.</p> + + <p>The China fleet now made its appearance, and after a few days’ + delay we all got under weigh, with a convoy of a frigate, a sloop-of-war, + and a transport full of troops, who on their arrival in England + were ordered immediately to the United States, where they were sadly + cut up at the battle of New-Orleans. We left the island with a stiff + breeze, which continued with fine clear weather for several days. The + fleet amounted to over seventy sail, and was arranged in two lines; + and in fine weather, with all sail set, we composed a beautiful spectacle. + During the whole of the voyage the utmost precaution was used to prevent + an attack or capture by privateers, or national vessels of the + enemy. Lights of every kind were strictly forbidden at night, except + through a special order from a superior officer, and a double watch + was kept day and night.</p> + + <p>‘Land, ho!’ cried the look-out at the mast-head, one day. It proved + to be what is termed the Western Islands, which lay directly ahead of + us. ‘Sail, ho!’ was the next cry; and all eyes were turned toward + the strangers. They were two ‘long, low, black-looking schooners,’ + lying-to very quietly, about three miles ahead. ‘See the <span class="keep_together">d——d</span> + Yankees!’ shouted all hands, in full chorus, as the American flag was + displayed at their gaff. A thrill shot through my nerves; my heart + swelled, and my eyes filled with tears, as I beheld the Flag of my + Country for the first time for many months. No one can imagine the + love he bears his native land, until he tests it as I have done. Many + were the speculations as to the probability of capturing the saucy privateersman; + for by this time all the sail that the convoy could possibly + set was spread in chase of the enemy, who as yet had made no attempt + to fly, although apparently but a stone’s throw ahead of us. Our captain + was the only one in my hearing who seemed to doubt their being + taken: ‘The <span class="keep_together">d——d</span> scamps know too well,’ said he, ‘what their craft + can do, to trust themselves so near us.’ We now appeared close on + board of them, and the chase well under way, when each fired a gun + in defiance or derision, and darted off like birds. It was now nearly + dark, and we were not far from land, for which one of the schooners + seemed to fly right before the wind, closely pursued by the frigate, under + all the canvass she could set. The other put out to sea, close-hauled + upon the wind. The brig and transport, the fastest craft in the fleet, + crowded all sail, but without nearing the schooner, as she could lie at + least two points more to windward than her pursuers. They both + escaped! The frigate being disabled, by springing her fore-top-mast, + gave up the chase; the others relinquished the pursuit as fruitless, and + rejoined the fleet.</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page151" name="page151"></a>151</span>The night was extremely dark; and the next morning two large + vessels were missing. It seemed that the privateers had returned, and + hovering around, watched their opportunity, and captured two of our + most richly-freighted ships; but as those seas were swarming with + British cruisers, they were shortly re-captured and sent to England, + where the whole fleet soon arrived. The West-India fleet came into + port about the same time; and the amount of wealth brought into London + by the safe arrival of the Bengal, China, and West-India fleets, + must have been almost incredible. For myself, I was consigned to a + dreary prison, ‘as will more particularly appear’ in an ensuing number.</p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + + <h2 class="title">A VERITABLE SEA STORY.</h2> + <h3 class="byline">BY HARRY FRANCO.</h3> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">The</span> sea, the sea, the o—pen sea, the blue, the <em>fresh</em>;’ but here we halt;</p> + <p>Mr. <span class="special_name">Cornwall</span> knew very little about the sea, or he would have written <span class="small_all_caps">SALT</span>.</p> + <p class="i8">‘The whales they whistled, the porpoise rolled,</p> + <p class="i8">And the dolphins bared their backs of gold;’</p> + <p>Worse and worse; more blunders than words, and such a jumble!</p> + <p>Whales <em>spout</em>, but never whistle; dolphins’ backs are silver; and porpoises never roll, but tumble.</p> + <p class="i8">‘It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies,</p> + <p class="i8">And like a cradled creature lies,’ and squalls,</p> + <p class="i8">He should have added; but to avoid brawls</p> + <p>With the poet’s friends I’ll quote no more; but <i>entre nous</i>,</p> + <p>Those who write correctly about the sea are exceeding few.</p> + <p>Young <span class="special_name">Dana</span> with us, and <span class="special_name">Marryat</span> over the water,<a href="#fn1" class="fnmarker" title="I have unintentionally omitted..." id="fnm1" name="fnm1">1</a></p> + <p>Are all the writers that I know of, who appear to have brought a</p> + <p>Discerning eye to bear on that peculiar state of existence,</p> + <p>An ocean life, which looks so romantic at a distance.</p> + <p>To succeed where every body else fails, would be an uncommon glory,</p> + <p>While to fail would be no disgrace; so I am resolved to try my hand upon a sea-story.</p> + <p>In naming sea-authors, I omitted <span class="special_name">Cooper</span>, <span class="special_name">Chamier</span>, <span class="special_name">Sue</span>, and many others,</p> + <p>Because they appear to have gone to sea without asking leave of their mothers:</p> + <p>For those good ladies never could have consented that their boys should dwell on</p> + <p>An element that Nature never fitted them to excel on.</p> + <p>Their descriptions are so fine, and their tars so exceedingly flowery,</p> + <p>They appear to have gathered their ideas from some naval spectacle at the ‘Bowery;’</p> + <p>And in fact I have serious doubts whether either of them ever saw blue water,</p> + <p>Or ever had the felicity of saluting the ‘gunner’s daughter.’</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It was on board of the packet ——, from feelings deferential</p> + <p>To private griefs, I omit all facts that are non-essential:</p> + <p>To Havre we were bound, and passengers there were four of us,</p> + <p>Three men and a lady—not an individual more of us.</p> + <p>The month was July, the weather warm and hazy,</p> + <p>The sea smooth as glass, the winds asleep or lazy.</p> + <p>Dull times of course, for the sea, though favorable to the mind’s expansion,</p> + <p>Yet keeps the body confined to a very few feet of stanchion.</p> + <p>Our employments were nought save eating, drinking and sleeping,</p> + <p>Excepting the lady, who a diary was keeping.</p> + <p>She was a very pleasant person though fat, and a long way past forty,</p> + <p>Which will of course prevent any body from thinking any thing naughty.</p> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page152" name="page152"></a>152</span>A very pleasant person, but such an enormous feeder,</p> + <p>That our captain began to fear she might prove a famine-breeder;</p> + <p>A sort of female Falstaff, fond of jokes and gay society,</p> + <p>Cards, claret, eau-de-vie, and a great hater of sobriety.</p> + <p>Her favorite game at cards she acknowledged was <i>ecarté</i>,</p> + <p>But like Mrs. Battle, she loved whist, and we soon made up a party.</p> + <p>We played from morn till night, and then from night till morning,</p> + <p>Although the captain, who was pious, continually gave us warning.</p> + <p>That time so badly spent would lead to some disaster;</p> + <p>At which Madame <span class="keep_together">G——</span> would laugh, and only deal the faster.</p> + <p>Breakfast was served at eight, and as soon as it was ended</p> + <p>Round flew the cards; and the game was not suspended</p> + <p>Until seven-bells struck, when we stopped a while for lunch,</p> + <p>To allow Madame time to imbibe her allowance of punch;</p> + <p>This done, at work we went, with heated blood and flushed faces,</p> + <p>Talking of kings, queens, knaves, tricks, clubs and aces.</p> + <p>At six bells (three <span class="small_all_caps">P. M.</span>,) we threw down our cards and went to dinner,</p> + <p>Where Madame never missed her appetite, whether she had been a loser or a winner;</p> + <p>Then up from the almonds and raisins, and down again to the queens and aces,</p> + <p>We had only to remove from one end of the table to the other to resume our places;</p> + <p>Another pause at six, <span class="small_all_caps">P. M.</span>, for in spite of all our speeches,</p> + <p>Madame’s partner would lay down his cards for the sake of pouchong and brandy peaches;</p> + <p>Being French and polite, of course, she only said ‘<i>Eh bien!</i>’ but no doubt thought him a lubber,</p> + <p>For a cup of washy tea to break in upon her rubber.</p> + <p>At four bells (ten <span class="small_all_caps">P. M.</span>,) up from the cards and down again at the table,</p> + <p>To drink champaigne and eat cold chicken as long as we were able:</p> + <p>With very slight variations this was the daily life we led,</p> + <p>Breakfast, whist; lunch, whist; dinner, whist; supper, whist; and then to bed.</p> + <p>The sea, for aught we know, was like that which Coleridge’s mariners sailed on;</p> + <p>We never looked at it, nor the sky, nor the stars; and our captain railed on,</p> + <p>But still we played, until one day there was a sudden dismemberment of our party;</p> + <p>We had dined on soup <i>à la tortu</i>, (made of pig’s feet,) of which Madame ate uncommonly hearty;</p> + <p>And had just resumed our game; it was her cut, but she made no motion;</p> + <p>‘Cut, Madame,’ said I; ‘Good Heavens!’ exclaimed her partner, ‘I’ve a notion</p> + <p>That she <em>has</em> cut for good; quick! help her! she’s falling!’</p> + <p>And the next moment on the floor of the cabin she lay sprawling.</p> + <p>Poor Madame! It was in vain that we tried hartshorne, bathing and bleeding;</p> + <p>Her spirit took its flight, tired to death of her high feeding:</p> + <p>For spirits are best content with steady habits and spare diet,</p> + <p>And will remain much longer in a tabernacle where they can enjoy repose and quiet</p> + <p>Than in a body that is continually uneasy with stuffing,</p> + <p>And goes about like an overloaded porter, sweating and puffing.</p> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The next morning at four-bells, the sun was just uprisen,</p> + <p>Glowing with very joy to leave his watery prison;</p> + <p>The bright cerulean waves with golden scales were crested,</p> + <p>Forming the fairest scene on which my eyes had ever rested;</p> + <p>The wind was <span class="small_all_caps">S. S. W.</span>, and when they let go the main-top bowline</p> + <p>To square the after yards, our good ship stopped her rolling.</p> + <p>Madame lay on the quarter-deck sewed up in part of an old spanker,</p> + <p>And for this glorious sight of the ocean we had solely to thank her,</p> + <p>For to have kept her lying in the cabin would have caused some of us to feel qualmish,</p> + <p>And she could not have been kept on deck, as the weather was growing warmish;</p> + <p>Therefore it had been resolved in a kind of council, on the captain’s motion,</p> + <p>At sunrise to commit the old lady to the ocean.</p> + <p>She was placed upon a plank, resting upon the taffrail, (the stern railing,)</p> + <p>One end of which was secured by a bight of the trysail brailing.</p> + <p>The captain read the prayers, somewhat curtailed, but a just proportion,</p> + <p>The plank was raised, ‘Amen!’ the corpse dropped into the ocean.</p> + <p>Down in its deep mysterious caves she sunk to sleep with fishes,</p> + <p>While a few bubbles rose from her and burst as if in mockery of human wishes.</p> + <p>‘Up with your helm; brace round; haul out your bowlines;</p> + <p>Clear up the deck; keep her full; coil down your tow-lines!’</p> + <p>The ship was on her course, and not a word said to remind us</p> + <p>Of the melancholy fact that we had left one of our number behind us.</p> + <p>‘Shocking affair!’ I remarked to Madame’s partner, who looked solemn as a mummy,</p> + <p>‘O! horrid!’ said he; ‘<em>I shall now be compelled to play with a Dummy!</em>’</p> + </div> + </div> + </div> + <div class="article"> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page153" name="page153"></a>153</span></p> + + <h2 class="title">ON A PASSAGE IN MACBETH.</h2> + + <div class="epigram"> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,</p> + <p>She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.’</p> + </div> + </div> + <p class="sign"><span class="author">Macbeth.</span></p> + </div> + + <p><span class="first_word">Let</span> us put on one side for a few moments the horrid midnight murder + of the gracious Duncan. Let us suppose of the buried majesty of + Scotland,</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>——‘Upward to Heaven he took his flight,</p> + <p>If ever soul ascended!’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Let us for the moment imagine Mrs. Siddons to have been the veritable + Lady Macbeth, and acknowledge that never was man more powerfully + tempted into evil, nor more deeply punished with his fall from Virtue, + than this, the Thane of Glamis and of Cawdor. My concernment in this + Essay is neither with his virtue, nor his fall. I neither come to praise, nor + bury Cæsar:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,</p> + <p>She strike upon the bell. Get <em>thee</em> to bed.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>In the reading I desire should be here given to the language of the immortal + bard, it will be perceived that the last pronoun is made emphatic. + ‘Get <em>thee</em> to bed.’</p> + + <p>The household of the castle of Macbeth, excited and disturbed as its + members had been throughout the day by the unexpected arrival of the + King of Scotland at Inverness, are now subsiding into rest. The King + has retired. His suite are provided for in various parts of the quadrangle; + and all the tumultuary sounds of preparation and of festive + enjoyment have followed the departed day; and Banquo charged with + a princely gift to the Lady Macbeth under the title of <em>most kind hostess</em>, + from her confiding and now slumbering monarch, has paid his compliments + and gone.</p> + + <p>Now comes the deeper stillness, and the witching hour of that eventful + night; and the noble Thane, having gone the rounds of his hushed + castle to place all entrances under both watch and ward, turns to his + torch-bearer, the last remaining household servant of the train, and + dismisses him with the message I have read. The words excite no surprise + in the mind of the attendant. He receives the command and departs + upon his errand; to deliver it as had doubtless been his office before, + and then retire for the night:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,</p> + <p>She strike upon the bell.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Admired Editor, I have now that to say in thine ear that may possibly + startle thy preceptions, shock thy wishes, and for the moment interfere + with thy store of tragick recollection. I would have thee imagine + with me, that Macbeth, stifling all murderous intent, and all disloyal + thought, had honestly gone down at the sound of the bell, and, as must + have been his wont as is shewn from the manner in which his attendant receives + the charge, had soberly partaken of the warm and grateful drink + his noble partner had prepared for his refreshing and composing use.</p> + + <p>Imagine the illustrious and majestick pair, their household having + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page154" name="page154"></a>154</span>entirely withdrawn, seated in the deep silence of the night, on either + side of a small table as was their happy wont, and gently, calmly, dispassionately, + and elegantly sipping that prepared beverage; that ‘drink + made ready’ by hands then yet innocent and spotless. Imagine the + ingredients of which that dilution must have been composed! Not + wine for wine is always ‘ready.’ O call it not by any other W! Let + it not be named Glenlivet; think not upon Ferintosh. It was <span class="small_all_caps">PURE + REALITY IN THE LUSTRE OF A MILD GLORIFICATION</span>, <em>mingled with droppings + of the dew of morning</em>.</p> + + <p>They say that the mind of man is a mere bundle of associations, and + that our success in moving it to our purpose depends on our awakening + the most powerful, or most agreeable of them. I know not of what + associations that of the reader may be composed; but for my own part + I think a little warm drink before going to bed upon a night when owls + hoot and chimnies are to be blown down, prepared by the small hands that + one loves, and that all admire; where a dimple takes place of what in a + plebeian hand is a knuckle, and the round fingers taper gently off toward + points that are touched with damask and bordered with little rims of ivory; + where bright eyes beam with kindness as well as wit; and words fall in + silvery tones from a beautifully-formed mouth, like the renewal of life + upon the soul of man! I think where one could enjoy all this, it was a + monstrous act of folly on the part of Macbeth to fret about the principality + of Cumberland, or covet even the whole kingdom of Scotland. For my + own part I must say, give me the warm drink and the sweet companionship + of that night, and let old Duncan with a hearty welcome sleep up + to his heart’s content the whole ‘ravelled sleeve of care!’</p> + + <p>Oh Woman! dear, good, kind, blessed, beautiful Woman! chosen of + Heaven (and O how well!) for the meet companion of our otherwise + forlorn race! is there a moment throughout that whole circle of the Sun + which we call Day more sweet to us, than that which follows the well-performed + duties of our lot and that gives thee altogether to us at its + close, gentle, refined, affectionate, soothing, bland, and unreserved? The + hour that precedes retirement for the night, when the early luxury of + languor begins to take possession of the senses? When the eyes are + not heavy, but threaten to become so, and long silken lashes first make + love to each other? When it is time to confine part of that rich hair + en papilotte and fold the whole into that pretty cap; to place the feet in + small graceful slippers, and let ease put fashion tastefully on one side + in the arrangement of the dress?</p> + + <p>Doubtless there is a period during the delirium of youthful fancy + when the calmer pleasures are unappreciated at their value, but the + Andante of existence follows the Allegro of boyhood; its precious strains + fall deeper and more touchingly upon the Sense; and the full Soul longs + to yield itself to them, and to share its emotions with the beloved one in + tones heard only in her ivory <span class="keep_together">ear——how</span> beautiful! Oh pure of heart, + how <span class="keep_together">beautiful!——and</span>, when the belle, still delighting to please, has become + the friend; and the mistress, still fascinating, the wife; and one + interest, one faith, one hope, one joy, one passion, one life, animate both + <span class="keep_together">hearts——oh</span> then,</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,</p> + <p>She strike upon the bell. Get <em>thee</em> to bed.’</p> + </div> + </div> + <p class="sign"><span class="author">John Waters.</span></p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page155" name="page155"></a>155</span></p> + <h2 class="title">THE SMITHY.</h2> + <h3 class="byline">BY ALFRED B. STREET.</h3> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">There</span> was a little smithy at the comer of the road,</p> + <p>In the village where, when life glow’d fresh and bright, was my abode;</p> + <p>A little slab-roof’d smithy, of a stain’d and dusky red,</p> + <p>An ox-frame standing by the door, and at one side a shed;</p> + <p>The road was lone and pleasant, with margins grassy-green,</p> + <p>Where browsing cows and nibbling geese from morn till night were seen.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>High curl’d the smoke from the humble roof with dawning’s earliest bird,</p> + <p>And the tinkle of the anvil first of the village sounds was heard;</p> + <p>The bellows-puff, the hammer-beat, the whistle and the song,</p> + <p>Told, steadfastly and merrily, Toil roll’d the hours along,</p> + <p>Till darkness fell, and the smithy then with its forge’s clear deep light</p> + <p>Through chimney, window, door, and cleft, poured blushes on the night.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The morning shows its azure breast and scarf of silvery fleece,</p> + <p>The margin-grass is group’d with cows, and spotted with the geese;</p> + <p>On the dew-wet green by the smithy, there’s a circle of crackling fire,</p> + <p>Hurrah! how it blazes and curls around the coal-man’s welded tire!</p> + <p>While o’er it, with tongs, are the smith and his man, to fit it when cherry-red,</p> + <p>To the tilted wheel of the huge grim’d ark in the back-ground of the shed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There’s a stony field on the ridge to plough, and Brindle must be shod,</p> + <p>And at noon, through the lane from the farm-house, I see him slowly plod;</p> + <p>In the strong frame, chewing his cud, he patiently stands, but see!</p> + <p>The bands have been placed around him—he struggles to be free:</p> + <p>But John and Timothy hammer away, until each hoof is arm’d,</p> + <p>Then loosen’d Brindle looks all round, as if wondering he’s unharm’d.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Joe Matson’s horse wants shoeing, and at even-tide he’s seen,</p> + <p>An old gray sluggish creature, with his master on the green;</p> + <p>Within the little smithy old Dobbin Matson draws,</p> + <p>There John is busily twisting screws, and Timothy filing saws;</p> + <p>The bellows sleeps, the forge is cold, and twilight dims the room,</p> + <p>With anvil, chain, and iron bar, faint glimmering through the gloom.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I stand beside the threshhold and gaze upon the sight,</p> + <p>The doubtful shape of the old gray horse, and the points of glancing light:</p> + <p>But hark! the bellows wakens, out dance the sparks in air,</p> + <p>And now the forge is raked high up, now bursts it to a glare;</p> + <p>How brightly and how cheerily the sudden glow outbreaks,</p> + <p>And what a charming picture of the humble room it makes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It glints upon the horse-shoes on the ceiling-rafters hung,</p> + <p>On the anvil and the leaning sledge its quivering gleams are flung;</p> + <p>It touches with bronze the smith and his man, and it bathes old dozing gray,</p> + <p>And a blush is fixed on Matson’s face in the broad and steady ray;</p> + <p>One moment more, and the iron is whirl’d with fierce and spattering glow,</p> + <p>And swank! swank! swank! rings the sledge’s smite, tink! tink! the hammer’s blow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Whoa, Dobbin!’ says Tim, as he pares the hoof, ‘whoa! whoa!’ as he fits the shoe,</p> + <p>And the click of the driving nails is heard, till the humble toil is through;</p> + <p>Pleas’d Matson mounts his old gray steed, and I hear the heavy beat</p> + <p>Of the trotting hoofs, up the corner road, till the sounds in the distance fleet:</p> + <p>And I depart with grateful joy to the King of earth and heaven,</p> + <p>That e’en to life in its lowliest phase, such interest should be given.</p> + </div> + </div> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page156" name="page156"></a>156</span></p> + <h2 class="title">THE FINE ARTS.</h2> + <h3 class="subtitle">A FEW HINTS ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF SIZE IN ITS RELATION TO THE FINE ARTS.</h3> + <h2 class="byline">BY GEORGE HARVEY.</h2> + + + <p><span class="first_word">It</span> is a common remark made by most persons who visit the mightiest + cataract in the world, that it fails to impress one’s mind with that just + idea of its grandeur which truly belongs to its vastness, and which is + always formed from attentively reading or listening to a correct verbal + or written description of it. Even the most faithful drawings cannot + awaken an adequate conception of the majesty, the greatness of <span class="special_name">Niagara</span>. + Now the law of optics will serve to convince us that this must ever be + so, since the image formed in the dark chamber of the eye is exceedingly + small; and as the Falls are always approached gradually from a + distance, the surrounding landscape occupies by far the largest portion + of the field of vision; hence the descending stream can only sustain a + subordinate part in the general view; but when you have approached + the very verge of the precipice over which the rolling waters rush with + maddening roar; or when, from beneath, you stand upon the piles of + broken rocks, and look upward or around, and can only embrace a small + portion of the falling waters; then and then only, do the anticipated + emotions crowd upon the soul, causing it to stand in trembling awe, + vibrating in unison with the fragments of the fallen precipice upon + which you tread.</p> + + <p>I remember some years since, in looking at an image of the ‘American + Falls’ reflected in a camera-obscura which was built on the opposite + shore, noticing how extremely insignificant it appeared, notwithstanding + the table of vision was five feet in diameter. The descending foam as + it was unevenly projected in billowy masses, appeared to move very + slowly in its downward course, causing a feeling of impatience at its + tardiness: in truth, the whole scene looked very tame and unsatisfactory, + and I could not help remarking to a friend who was with me, how utterly + impossible it would be for any artist to be thought successful in an + attempt to represent them. Nevertheless I made some twenty sketches + from as many different points of view; one only of which has procured + any commendation, as conveying an idea of the grandeur of the Great + Cataract. It is evident therefore that what the eye can take in at + one look will never of itself impress the mind with those sublime emotions + which we conceive should belong to vastness. Yet there is a + physical attribute belonging to subjects having this property of vastness, + that will command more attention than the same scene upon a small + scale: but the mind must be impressed with the fact, and must draw + largely upon it for any emotion of the sublime. It is therefore upon this + principle that large portraits will command from the multitude more applause + than small miniatures; large oil-paintings than small water-color + drawings. The statues on the outside of the Grecian temples + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page157" name="page157"></a>157</span>were colossal, yet in their position they looked small. Most of the + works of Michael Angelo are so; but in consequence of the distance + at which they are seen, they lose greatly their power to produce grand + ideas, because in all cases the image formed upon the optic nerve varies + but little in its actual size; since the distance at which things are viewed + is in some degree regulated by the size: thus before a large picture, + you must station yourself at a relative distance, so as to embrace the + whole, while before the small drawing you must be within arm’s reach; + or if a miniature portrait, it must be seen within a few inches, thus + making the mirrored picture on the eye vary but little in actual size.</p> + + <p>These few hints will readily account for the mortification experienced + by many artists who have painted exceedingly impressive pictures when + they are seen in the studios where they were executed, but when they + are taken into a large gallery or rotunda, seem lost and look insignificant, + save to the few of cultivated minds, who may take the trouble to + approach within a proper distance, and shut out all objects which interfere + or intrude, and which prevent a true appreciation of their merits. + The knowing, time-serving artists, who paint exhibition pictures, have + long since understood this law; and accordingly they paint up to what + is called ‘<em>exhibition-pitch</em>,’ where brilliance and flashiness of color, with + an absence of detail, which might interfere with breadth of effect, are + of the first importance. Attention is also given to masses of light and + shade, that all the forms introduced in the picture may have their due + prominence; and a judicious balancing of warm and cool tints, by which + harmony is produced, and the eye prevented from being offended by its + evident exaggeration of the ‘modesty of nature.’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Turner</span> may be instanced as the most successful in this style of + painting, which he has followed to such an extreme, that his pictures + are now attractive only at a great distance, for when they are seen near + by, they fail to please, if they do not produce positive disgust. Report + represents him as having accumulated upward of one hundred thousand + pounds sterling, which he could only have done by adopting this distant, + effective style; for if he had continued to finish his pictures in the + same manner as he did those of his early works, which procured for + him the foundation of his present wide-spread reputation, he would not + have realized one eighth of that sum. To paint one of the former, + costs but a few hours’ labor, but one of the latter would employ many + days if not weeks; yet the momentary effect of pleasure derived from + seeing the one is greater than that of the other. Hence those who visit + exhibitions, having but a limited time, are gratified; but place one of + the chaste productions of <span class="special_name">Claude Lorraine</span>, who diligently followed nature + with all the tenderness of a modest student, by the side of one of + the tinsel class, and observe the ultimate effect. The former will + gradually win your admiration, and continue to arouse pleasing reminiscences; + the latter will finally lose its charm, and be regarded with + something of the feeling with which one looks upon the ornamental + paper of a room. We have had many exhibitions of single large pictures, + such as <span class="special_name">Dubufe’s</span> ‘Don Juan,’ which have produced handsome + returns to those who have purchased them for such speculating purposes. + The parties have been well aware of the physical effects of size; for + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page158" name="page158"></a>158</span>had the same subjects been painted upon a small scale, though equally + well executed, they would have been less attractive to the multitude; + yet the smaller ones would have reflected the same sized images in the + camera of the eye; since, as I have already hinted, to see them properly + they must be viewed at short distances, as the large pictures must be at + greater proportionate ones.</p> + + + <p>I will here digress for a moment, in the hope that I may be permitted + to make mention of my own works, without incurring the charge of + undue egotism. Let me, however, by way of apology for calling public + attention to the series of forty small Water-Color Drawings, (painted + <i>con amore</i>, and with no idea of gain,) which are now before the public, + mention the fact, that the commencement of their publication was owing + to a suggestion of Gen. <span class="special_name">Cass</span>, who urged me to undertake the enterprise + while I was in Paris. The drawings then consisted of half the present + number of landscape views; the localities and subjects of the latter + half have been chosen with the purpose of writing appropriate chapters + illustrating the progress of civilization and of refinement in the northern + part of this continent. The foregoing brief remark applies only to their + publication; for their <em>origin</em> dates back to the halcyon days of early + life, when I had but just passed my teens; when boyish enthusiasm + lends a charm to every dream that finds a home in the fancy or the + heart. Then it was that the latent wish was formed of being able, at + some future day, to paint the History of the Day; and to carry out this + impulsive feeling, I have been brought into sweet communion with divine + Nature; and oh! how bounteously has she repaid my studious contemplation + with infinite delight! It is not for me to speak of the results. + There they are; and every lover of the country may judge of the + degree of success I have achieved. I am not so certain that I have + equal ability in the use of the pen. The chapters of the first number + will speak for themselves; but I must not omit to acknowledge the many + obligations I am under to <span class="special_name">Washington Irving</span>, for the friendly revision + of my ms. He has given many an elegant turn to a prose sentence, + and clothed rude images with graceful drapery. But to resume.</p> + + + <p>Since then it follows that a small picture, being viewed at its proper + focal distance, reflects the same sized image as a larger one at <em>its</em> proper + focal distance, I can see no good reason why the physical attribute of + <em>largeness</em> should be so eagerly sought for by the public. Surely a gallery + of small pictures, provided they be not painfully small, should be + preferred to one filled with large ones. We see the principle I am contending + for carried out in libraries. The ordinary sized volumes are + preferred, for most purposes, to the cumbrous tomes of large folio editions. + It is true, a large book will produce in the minds of many persons + greater respect than a miniature copy of the same work; but the + ideas contained in the one are no better or more impressive than the + same contained in that of the other; save the feeling with which the + larger one inspires the votary who looks no farther than the outside of + the page. The series of forty landscapes alluded to in the above digression, + if viewed at the focal distance of eighteen inches, will appear as + large as those twice the size, viewed at their proportionate increased + distance. An elaborately finished picture, to be seen to advantage, + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page159" name="page159"></a>159</span>must be examined near by. A coarser work, theatrical scenes for + instance, painted for distant effect, must be seen accordingly, if you + would secure pleasurable emotions. As a general approximative rule, + the focal distance at which the spectator should stand in viewing works + of art is to be found by measuring the same length from the picture as + its size: Thus, one of ten feet in length is to be viewed at that distance; + one of eighteen inches at about twenty inches; a small miniature of six + inches, at about eight inches. If the work should have no detail, this + rule will not hold good; but if there is a faithful transcript of Nature; + and she ever delights in unobtrusive beauties, which are particularly + obvious in the fore-ground, for she strews them at your feet; then if you + approach the artist’s effort, a work of patient diligence, you can hold + converse with her through the medium of his labors.</p> + + <p>I do not attempt to deny the importance of size in winning our first + regard: it is a law inseparable from the thing itself; but I must protest + against the taste of the age being supplied always with mere physical + attributes. The purling stream and babbling brook; the small rill falling + from on high, till its feathery stream is lost in mist, are and should + be as much sought after as the roaring torrent or the thundering cascade. + The effect of the one is to produce awe, that of the other tranquil pleasure. + The human mind is not always to be upon the stretch; to remain + lifted up as it were upon stilts; our common communion is to be found + in enjoyments that are quietly exciting. It is a common remark, that + the English language has lost some of its truthfulness by our habit of + expressing ourselves in the language of superlatives, through a desire + to astonish. Thus we leave nothing for the innate love of truth; nothing + to work out the necessary sympathy. Is not this parallel with the + desire to see large pictures?—and should it not receive some regulation + from those who have the requisite influence?</p> + + <p>I find the few hints to which in the outset I proposed to confine myself + have grown to a greater length than was intended. I will therefore, + in closing, simply reiterate the remark, that I see no good reason + why the painter of a large picture (or the work itself) should be regarded + with more favor than he who paints equally well, but limits the size, + unless we consider the white-wash brush a nobler instrument than the + camel’s-hair pencil.</p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">LIFE: A SONNET.</h2> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Whence</span>? whither? where?—a taper-point of light,</p> + <p class="i2">My life and world—the infinite around;</p> + <p class="i2">A sea, not even highest thought can sound;</p> + <p>A formless void; unchanging, endless night.</p> + <p>In vain the struggling spirit aims its flight</p> + <p class="i2">To the empyrean, seen as is a star,</p> + <p class="i2">Sole glimmering through the hazy night afar;</p> + <p>In vain it beats its wings with daring might.</p> + <p>What yonder gleams?—what heavenly shapes arise</p> + <p class="i2">From out the bodiless waste? Behold the dawn,</p> + <p class="i2">Sent from on high! Uncounted ages gone,</p> + <p>Burst full and glorious on my wondering eyes;</p> + <p class="i2">Sun-clear the world around, and far away</p> + <p class="i2">A boundless future sweeps in golden day.</p> + </div> + </div> + <p class="sign"><span class="author">J. G. Percival.</span></p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page160" name="page160"></a>160</span></p> + + <h2 class="title">TWO PICTURES.</h2> + <div class="epigram"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">The</span> glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestrial is another.’—<span class="special_name">St. Paul</span>.</p> + </div> + + + <h3 class="chapter_title">LOVE CELESTIAL.</h3> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">I see</span> his face illumined by a beatific light,</p> + <p>That tells me he is dying fast; the shadows of the night</p> + <p>Are passing from his saintly brow and sunken eye away,</p> + <p>But he looks beyond them and beholds a never-ending day.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Nay, wonder not that I am calm; the fleeting things of earth</p> + <p>Are passing with the flight of time, to their eternal birth:</p> + <p>I feel that death will shed on him a halo like the sun,</p> + <p>And I shall share it with him, when my pilgrimage is done.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>How quickly fades the earthly frame, and with it too, how fast</p> + <p>The agony and sorrow of our mortal doom are past;</p> + <p>And when the sight of worldly wo weighs heavy on the breast,</p> + <p>How welcome is the voice from <span class="special_name">God</span>, that speaks to us of rest!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>O! painfully the pangs of life his fading frame have worn,</p> + <p>But blessed be our <span class="special_name">Father’s</span> love, that dwells with those who mourn;</p> + <p>And though the grave must rend apart our sweet affection’s bond,</p> + <p>On this side is the night, but all is luminous beyond.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I know that more he loves my soul than its transitory shrine,</p> + <p>And did I prize the vase alone, when all it held was mine?</p> + <p>Let hallowed dust return to dust, give Nature what she gave,</p> + <p>For all that dearest was to me, is victor o’er the grave.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Triumphant will his spirit rise to the Eternal throne,</p> + <p>Triumphant wear a crown of light, by earthly trials won:</p> + <p>And mid the friends who went before, the angel, sin-forgiven,</p> + <p>Shall feel that they can part no more, when once they meet in heaven.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>True, I shall look on him no more, but he will gaze on me;</p> + <p>Sweet thought! he from his holy sphere my guiding-star will be,</p> + <p>Till purified; and hallowed from every earthly tie,</p> + <p>I share with him that smile of <span class="special_name">God</span>, which lights the world on high!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3 class="chapter_title">LOVE TERRESTRIAL.</h3> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">They</span> tell me he is dying, yet I look upon his brow,</p> + <p>And never seemed it half so fair, so beautiful as now;</p> + <p>A radiance lightens from his eye, too lovely for the tomb,</p> + <p>Too <em>living</em>, for the shadowy realm where all is grief and gloom.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>They tell me he will surely die—and so at last must all;</p> + <p>I know that the Destroyer’s blight on all mankind must fall;</p> + <p>Alas! that we of mortal birth thus hurry to decay,</p> + <p>And all we fondly cherish here must fleet so fast away!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But oh, not now! it is indeed a fearful sight to see</p> + <p>The pangs of death their shadows fling on one so dear to me;</p> + <p>Nay, speak not of another world, I only think of this,</p> + <p>I have no heart to nurse the hope that looks to future bliss.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page161" name="page161"></a>161</span>Perhaps ’tis time; he is not formed for length of happy years,</p> + <p>But wherefore darken thus my days with wild distracting fears?</p> + <p>If we must part, oh! let me live in rapture while I may;</p> + <p>Though hope must darken, while it lasts, let nothing cloud its ray.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh, bid me cherish brighter thoughts; my loving soul can tell</p> + <p>How sad will be the hour to him that speaks the last farewell;</p> + <p>I know his heart is agonized by the approaching doom,</p> + <p>I know he loves me better than the cold and fearful tomb!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It is in vain they speak to me of bliss beyond the sky;</p> + <p>This saddening thought afflicts my heart, that if indeed he die,</p> + <p>The light that cheered my earthly love will seem obscure and dim,</p> + <p>While he abides in purer realms, and I still live for him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I know that holier hopes and joys around his soul will weave,</p> + <p>While he among angelic loves, unconscious that I grieve,</p> + <p>Will ne’er look down to see me weep, nor breathe a single sigh;</p> + <p>O, <span class="special_name">God</span>! it is a fearful thought—and this it is to die!</p> + </div> + </div> + <p class="sign"><span class="author">B.</span></p> + </div> + + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">THE HERMIT OF THE PRAIRIE.</h2> + <h3 class="byline">BY PETER VON GEIST.</h3> + <div class="epigram"> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">To</span> him who in the love of nature holds</p> + <p>Communion with her visible forms, she speaks</p> + <p>A various language.’</p> + </div> + </div> + <p class="sign"><span class="author">Bryant.</span></p> + </div> + + <p><span class="first_word">Wednesday</span>, June twenty-first. How little do people who ride along + in their carriages, or rattle over the ground in stage-coaches, or rush + over its surface in rail-cars, know of the pleasures of travelling! They + roll <em>over</em> the country; they cannot be said to pass <em>through</em> it. They + may see new rivers, new mountains, and new faces; but for all the + good the last does them, they might as well have stood on the corner of + the street in a city half a day, and watched the passers-by. And better + too; for hotel-keepers, and waiters, and the whole tribe of public + functionaries, have all an artificial, professional look; so that it is difficult + to come at their real characters, if indeed they have any. The + same is the case, to some extent, with their fellow-passengers. All are + so absorbingly interested in their own brilliant thoughts; or they deem + it incumbent on them to assume the dignity and authority befitting persons + in high stations; (which dignity at home, by the by, is put one + side into a dark corner and never thought of,) that it is about as profitable + an undertaking to attempt to find out the personal feelings and sentiments + of a mask, as theirs.</p> + + <p>But here am I, walking stoutly and merrily along, unincumbered + with luggage or care; and because I do not care what the next day or + hour may bring forth, every thing seems to turn up just as I would have + it if I had the ordering of events. I shall not pause to offer any philosophical + conjectures as to the reason why we are invariably disappointed + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page162" name="page162"></a>162</span>in our conclusions, (excepting they are mathematical ones) concerning + the future; merely asking the amiable reader whether <em>he</em> ever knew such + an anticipation to be exactly realized. I shall not stop to make any + such conjectures, because I should only get deeper into the dark, and I + am in deep enough for comfort now; and secondly, it is against my principles. + I am living out of doors, and make mention only of things out + of doors.</p> + + <p>But I trudge stoutly forward, whistling as I go; making myself as agreeable + as possible to myself and to every body whom I meet; on jocose + terms with every thing; decidedly agricultural in my tastes and pursuits, + at every farmer’s house where I happen to put up for the night: at one + place in search of employment as a day-laborer; at another, an artist; + by turns every thing. Is not this the way to travel? My steps wander + where they choose; and if I keep on to the end of the earth, what will it + matter? I will go to the north; assume the dress, language and manners + of those who dwell within the frozen circle; I will become a Greenlander; + I will go and preach the religion of Mohammed to the inhabitants of + Patagonia; I will brush up the gods of Rome; dust that old mythology; + compound and simplify the whole into a good, comfortable, believable + system, and proclaim Olympian Jove in the deserts of Amazonia. I + will be a Turk, an Indian, a Pirate; I will be any thing. What do I + care, and who shall say me nay? This sensation of freedom is too + delicious to be interrupted by any companionship. And for my part, I + want no better companions than this wind, which free as I am, blows + against my cheek, and those clouds, that fly in unending succession over + my head. O! ye blue chariots of the Thunderer! whither hurry ye + so rapidly? Over hill and valley, and countries and cities of men, ye + fly unheeding; and borne forward on the swift pinions of the wind, ye + speed on your mission afar! What to you are states, and kingdoms, or + land or ocean? Furiously driving in black armies to meet opposing + armies, or singly floating in that waveless sea of blue, your existence + is above the earth; men look <em>up</em> to you with wonder or terror, but <em>your</em> + glance is never downward. Onward ye wander, in your unbounded + career, at your own free will. Nothing bounds <em>my</em> career or <em>my</em> will. + Fleecy ears! if ye would sustain the form of a mortal, triumphantly + would you and I sail over the heads of men! Softly, obedient to the + impulse of chance, would we glide over continent and sea, and explore + the mysteries of undiscovered islands and climes; calmly would I look + down on the strife or toil of human passions, and calmly would we ride + on forever, through night and day! But if the clouds are not, the earth + is, mine—and I am my own! There are none to molest or make me + afraid with the useless importunities or warnings of friendship. My + destiny is my own; and it is pleasant not to care what I may be or do. + Pleasure is now; sorrow is prospective; and life will be only pleasure, + because I let the past and the future go, and crowd as many happy + thoughts as possible into the present moment.</p> + + <p>What a spacious plain of the world! Dotted with habitations and + with men of all colors, and customs, and conditions! Every one thinks + he possesses a soul; and in virtue thereof, he considers himself entitled + to set up as an independent existence, and endeavors to move in a little + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page163" name="page163"></a>163</span>path of his own. But in fact, he plods humbly along, and repeats with + patient toil the example of labor and unspeculating perseverance that + his fathers have set him. A vast multitude, they darken the land! + Mighty hopes and aspirations swell each small bosom. Each imagines + that his designs are peculiar, and for him in particular was every thing + mainly made. An unceasing rush of footsteps and clash of voices! + And must I be confounded in the crowd? Let me preserve my individuality + in the desert! If I were not an insect, it might be different; but + as I am no larger than other men, I will not daily measure myself by + their standard; I will forget in solitude the littleness of my stature.</p> + + <p>The shades of evening tinge the green of the fields with a darker + hue; and the young farmer goes wearily and yet lightly homeward. + Lightly, for he leaves behind him labor and trouble, and his fair-haired + wife will greet him with her constant and love-lit smile. Cheerily will + the small family draw around their board, covered with the simple and + satisfying products of their own soil. And when all care is ended, when + night is duskily stealing over the earth, he and his bride will sit down + alone in their cottage door, in the red light of the western clouds. + Over all the dim landscape there are no sights or sounds; and in themselves + there are no feelings but those of contentment and love. In his + strong palm her soft hand, on his broad breast reclining her head, their + hearts are filled and overflow with sweet thoughts and gentle words of + present happiness. Fair prospects also of the future rise up before them. + Many years crowned with prosperity they see in store for them; and in + each one, many an evening like this, of deep confiding love. Hour + after hour, into the deepening night, their low tones and slow words murmur + on brokenly; and they know of nothing in all the world that is + wanting to their blessedness. What if the dream should last all their + life? It may; or if this passes away, another will take its place. The + question then seems to be, whether it is better to live in a delusion and + be happy, or to wake and be miserable? Whether it is profitable for a + man to walk joyfully through life, covering and coloring over every defect + in human nature that he may love it, and keep within him a contented + heart, or industriously spy out its deformities, and hate it and himself + for possessing it? If nature is in reality naked and rugged, happy is + he whose imagination can throw over her a robe of grace. Most happy + he who <em>can</em> see in his fellow-creatures such qualities that he can love + them. For me, I will love sterner scenes and sterner thoughts. + Human beauty is an illusion; and it does not become the sober wisdom + of manhood to be deceived by it. The young farmer and his young wife + may be happy; and so may those who find delight in the crowded hall + where taste and beauty meet; where are the sounds of clear-ringing, + girlish voices, and many glancing feet, and the innumerable light of + maiden’s eyes, and heavy folds of auburn hair, and the flush of thought + and emotion continually passing over fair faces, with the swell of music + that thrills, and the air laden with fragrance that intoxicates. Or in the + still twilight, by the side of her whose every note makes his pulse to + tremble with the breathing of song, and the incense of flowers, and forgetfulness + of the world, to feel the thought stealing over his heart that + perhaps he is not uncared for. It is sweet, but vain; sweet and vain + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page164" name="page164"></a>164</span>as the smiling, blushing slumber of a young girl. Dream on! dream + on! for if you can always sleep, what will matter to you the storms and + confusion without?</p> + + <p>But as for me, I cannot sleep. Every thing my eye rests on is harsh + and ungraceful, because, having passed through the seven-times heated + furnace, I <em>must</em> look through the covering and see the reality.</p> + + <h3 class="chapter_title">MOONLIGHT ON THE RIVER AND PRAIRIE.</h3> + + <p><span class="first_word">Wearily</span> I mount this steep eminence, and on its bald summit take + off my hat, that I may feel the cool breeze. It comes fresh with the + dew that it has snatched in its flight from the bosom of Lake Superior. + It rolls over the tall grass of the prairie, which bends beneath its weight, + sighs by me, and seems to cling to me as it passes, and moves on toward + the arid plains of the South. The Ohio sweeps down in calmness and + majesty. With its surface of quicksilver, and the little waves dancing + up in gladness, and its heavy dull wash, it rolls along its mighty mass + of waters, hastening to pour itself into the mightier mass of the Mississippi. + Occasionally a giant tree, torn from its place, and cast root and + branch into the flood, comes booming down, and glides swiftly past on + its long, long race. Pleasantly the ripples break over the prostrate + monarch of the forest that is lodged against the beach, and projects, + branchless and barkless, into the stream; and mournfully the worn + trunk sways up and down, as though tired of this rocking which has + continued the same year after year; weary, and desiring to be at rest. + Floods come rushing down upon floods with heavy tread, glance successively + under the moonlight that is poured into the channel before me, + and then are forced forward into the darkness of the future. But every + wave seems as full of joy as though for it alone was the moonlight sent, + and as though there were not unnumbered millions of waves to succeed + it. Every little wave leaps up as it comes under the light, and smiles + toward the round-faced orb above, who seems to smile back upon it. + Thou small thing, thou art a fool! The queen, in the beam of whose + countenance thou disportest thyself, is altogether deceitful and loves + thee not. She has smiled as kindly on thousands who have gone before + thee, and will upon thousands who shall come after thee. And more + than all, she would send down just as bright and loving a glance, if + thou and all thy race had never existed. How then canst thou say, ‘I + love her,’ or, ‘she loves me?’</p> + + <p>But perhaps it is not so. When I look again, each one of the great + multitude appears aware of its own insignificance. Jostled, confined, + crowded and confused, they go tumbling by, regardless of all above or + below, and engrossed with their own fleeting existence. Not remembering + whence they came, they take no thought of the present, and are + utterly careless of the future. For what would it profit? Their business, + and it is business enough, is to dispute and fight with each other + for room to move in. All thoughts as to whither they are hastening, + must be doubtful, angry and despairing; and care of any thing present, + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page165" name="page165"></a>165</span>except what concerns the present instant, would be useless. Therefore + they resign themselves to be drawn onward and downward unresistingly; + and therein are they wise. But whether joyful, or despairing, or not + feeling at all, the waters roll by, an unceasing flood; and with their + rushing dull roar in my ear, my eye rests on a scene of beauty and + quietness. Far away to the northward and westward, and still farther + away, stretches an immense plain. Rolling hillocks, like the waves of + the sea after a storm, and at long intervals, a few stunted shrubs, alone + diversify the prospect. Vast, unmeasured, Nature’s unenclosed meadow, + the prairie, is spread out! The tall grass waves gently and rustlingly + to the breeze; and down upon it settles the moonlight, in a dim silver-gossamer + veil, like that which to the mind’s eye is thrown over the + mountains and ruins and castles of the Old World, by the high-born + daring and graces of chivalry, the wand of Genius, and the lapse of + solemn years. With the same painful feeling of boundlessness, of vastness + that will not be grasped by the imagination, that one feels in sailing + on the ocean, there is also an air of still, stern desolation brooding upon + the plain. It may be that at some former day, the punishment of fire + swept over it, consuming its towering offspring, and laying bare and + scorching its bosom; and now the proud sufferer, naked and chained, + endures the summer’s heat and the winter’s storms, with no sighing + herbage or wailing tree to tell to the winds its wo.</p> + + <p>A single snow-white cloud slumbers and floats far up in the heavens; + the moon is gliding slowly down the western arch; and the vast dome, + studded with innumerable brilliants, ‘fretted with golden fires,’ rests its + northern and western edge on the plain, its southern on blue mountain-tops, + its eastern on the forests, and shuts us, the river, the prairie, the + moon and I, together and alone. And here will we dwell together + alone! Sweet companions will ye be to me; and standing here on this + eminence, I promise to love you. I promise to come here often, and to + hold communion with you. I will put away all thoughts of sorrow, all + swellings of bitterness, from my mind. Contentedly, calmly, unheedingly, + will we let the years pass by; for what will it matter to us? Oh! + ye are dear to me! Your <em>voice</em> is not heard, yet comes there constantly + to my ear the murmur of your song. You speak to me in music and + poetry; and while I listen, my thoughts revert only with shuddering to + the vain world I have left behind. Thus let us converse always. This + vaulted firmament which shuts down upon us now, let it be immoveable, + and enclose us forever; here let the wanderings of the wanderer cease, + and here will we live together and alone!</p> + + <p class="post_break"><span class="first_word">And</span> we <em>have</em> lived here many years. The lessons of my constant + companions have calmed and elevated me to a gentler and better spirit. + From them I have learned humility as well as self-reliance; while from + the history of the actions and thoughts of men in past ages, I have + learned perhaps something of the machinery of human nature. The + forms of the noblest of preceding generations, and the shapes of beauty + which their imaginations have conceived and made to live, visit me at + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page166" name="page166"></a>166</span>my bidding. But among all the pictures that daily rise up before my + eyes, the brightest, the most beautiful, the most loved, are the sweet + faces of the friends of my early years. There are no regrets or repinings + when I look back now; it must be that it has all been for the + best, that every thing is for the best, and I am at peace. The recollection + of madness and folly, of a life useless, of energies wasted, do not + disturb the calmness of my soul. The error has been great, but I feel + it; and in the next state of existence I shall be wiser and more active. + If I have wantonly and recklessly turned away from the offered happiness + of society and of the world, it has, in the end, been better for me, + for I have found another, a purer and more lasting.</p> + + <p>Thus I look cheerfully on, and see the sands of my life run out. + They fall faster and faster, as their number is diminished, and time + flies by me with constantly accelerating speed. ‘Oh, my days are + swifter than a weaver’s shuttle!’—the <em>last one</em> I see but a little distance + before me; it will soon be here; and I shall step forth with a joyful, + courageous heart, into the indistinct, dimly-revealed future!</p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">TRANSLATION FROM CATULLUS.</h2> + <h3 class="byline">BY REV. GEORGE W. BETHUNE.</h3> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Suffenus</span>, whom we both have known so well,</p> + <p>No other man in manners can excel;</p> + <p>Facetious, courteous, affable, urbane.</p> + <p>The world’s approval he is sure to gain.</p> + <p>But, would you think it? he has now essayed</p> + <p>To be a bard, and countless verses made;</p> + <p>Perhaps ten thousand, perhaps ten times more,</p> + <p>For none but he could ever count them o’er;</p> + <p>Not scribbled down on scraps, as one does when</p> + <p>In careless rhymes we only try our pen,</p> + <p>But in a gilt-edged book, all richly bound,</p> + <p>The writing ornate with a care profound,</p> + <p>Rich silken cords to mark each favorite part,</p> + <p>The cover, ev’n, a monument of art.</p> + <p>Yet as you read, Suffenus, who till then</p> + <p>Seemed the most pleasant of all gentlemen,</p> + <p>Becomes offensive as the country boor,</p> + <p>Who milks rank goats beside his cottage door,</p> + <p>Or digs foul ditches: such a change is wrought</p> + <p>By rhymes with neither sense nor music fraught.</p> + <p>So crazed is he with this same wretched rhyme,</p> + <p>That never does he know so blest a time</p> + <p>As when he writes away, and fondly deems</p> + <p>He rivals Homer’s god-enraptured dreams;</p> + <p>And wonders in his pride, himself to see,</p> + <p>The very pattern-pink of poesy.</p> + <p>Alas! Suffenus, while I laugh at thee,</p> + <p>The world, for aught I know, may laugh at me.</p> + <p>It is the madness of each one to pride</p> + <p>Himself on that ’twere better far to hide;</p> + <p>Nor know the faults in that peculiar sack</p> + <p>Which Æsop says is hanging at his back.</p> + </div> + </div> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page167" name="page167"></a>167</span></p> + + <h2 class="title">THE PAINTED ROCK.</h2> + <h3 class="byline">BY CHARLES F. POWELL.</h3> + + + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> tract of country through which meanders the Tennessee river, + for wild, sublime and picturesque scenery, is scarcely surpassed by any + in the United States. This river was anciently called the Hogohege, + and also Cherokee river: it takes its rise in the mountains of Virginia, + in the thirty-seventh degree of latitude, and pursues a course of one + thousand miles south and south-west nearly to the thirty-fourth degree of + latitude, receiving from both sides large tributary streams. It then + changes its direction to the north, circuitously winding until it mingles + with the waters of the Ohio, sixty miles from its mouth. There is a + place near the summit of the Cumberland mountains, which extends + from the great Kenhawa to the Tennessee, where there is a very remarkable + ledge of rocks, thirty miles in length and nearly two hundred + feet high, showing a perpendicular face to the south-east, which for + grandeur and magnificence surpass any fortification of art in the known + world. It has been the modern hypothesis, that all the upper branches + of the Tennessee formerly forced their way through this stupendous + pile.</p> + + <p>On the Tennessee, about four hundred and fifty miles from its mouth, + and nearly two hundred above what is called Muscle-Shoals, there is + another ledge of rocks stretching along the shore to the extent of one + mile, with a perpendicular front toward the river, of the most perfect + regularity. This ledge varies in height from thirty to three hundred + feet, being much the highest at the centre, and diminishing at each end + into ragged cliffs of rock and broken land. This variegated surface extends + for many miles, affording a constant succession of fanciful and + romantic views. The whole rocky formation in this vicinity is composed + of a light gray lime-stone, indented with broad dark lines formed by + the dripping of the water which falls from the scanty covering of soil + on the top to the deep channel below. The thin surface of soil sustains + a shabby, stinted growth of fir, oak, and other trees, which seldom grow + above the height of tall shrubbery. From the crevices of the rock also + may occasionally be seen a tree of diminutive dimensions springing out + with scarcely a particle of visible sustenance for its roots. The shrubbery + upon the peak of this acclivity presents a curious appearance as it + hangs over the ascent, not unlike the bushy eye-brows of a sullen and + frowning face. With this ledge of rocks terminate the Cumberland + mountains, which cross the State of Tennessee to the margin of the + river. The stream here flows nearly west, through a beautiful valley of + alluvial land, formed by the Cumberland mountains and a continuation + of the Blue Ridge of Virginia. Immediately opposite the termination + of the Cumberland mountains commences a broken and rocky surface, + which extends along the shore of the river for many miles, presenting + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page168" name="page168"></a>168</span>the most varied and novel scenery in nature; while the other shore is + level, fertile, and mostly in a high state of cultivation, abounding in verdant + fields of meadow, corn and tobacco.</p> + + <p>The middle portion of the ledge <em>proper</em>, which I have described, rises + nearly or quite three hundred feet above the level of the river; a vast + wall of solid lime-stone, echoing with never-ceasing moans the gurgling + current of the river, which at this place is deep and very rapid; and + has worn a series of caves and hollows in the base of the rock, which + contribute greatly to this ‘language of the waters.’</p> + + <p>The summit or peak of this ledge in the centre is called ‘<i>The Painted + Rock</i>.’ It is so called from the fact of there being, about sixty feet + below the highest peak, letters and characters painted in different colors, + and evidently drawn by a tutored hand. What is most remarkable, + these paintings are upon the perpendicular face of the rock, probably two + hundred feet above the river, and in a place where there is no apparent + possibility for mortal man to arrive. They are composed of the initials + of two persons, together with characters and drawings, some of which + are illegible from the river. The first consists of the letters ‘J. W. H.,’ + quite well done in dark blue or green paint. The next is ‘A. L. S.,’ + done in red, and also a trefoil leaf of clover in green, beside several + rude characters and drawings in blue and red. The traveller passing + this interesting spot gazes with wonder and astonishment, but is referred + to tradition for a history of the circumstances which led to the name + of Painted Rock; for the paintings were drawn and the name given, + long before the country was permanently settled by the whites. The + story handed down is this:</p> + + <p>The original possessors of the soil in this part of the country were + the tribes of Cherokee and Chicasaw Indians. The country was explored + as early as 1745, by a company who had grants of land from the + government, and settlements commenced previous to the French war. + Of the first-comers of whites there were not more than sixty families, + who were either destroyed or driven off before the end of the following + year. Some few families had settled at a place not far distant from the + Painted Rock, where lived a Cherokee Sagamore, named Shagewana, + whose tribe was considered the most inhuman of any in the nation. + The top of the rock is flat, and slopes back from the river, and at the + base is a large spring surrounded by bushes. Shagewana occupied the + summit of the acclivity as his council-ground; and when danger was + apprehended from the whites, or when an innovation was made on his + limits, he forthwith called his warriors together for consultation, and + set fire to faggots and other combustibles as a signal for his neighbors + to advance to his aid. The whites settled near the Painted Rock at + this time were mostly composed of traders, who had brought various + articles of clothing and ornaments to dispose of to the Indians; and + under the assurance of the Chicasaws, who rarely commenced the work + of destruction on the whites, that they should be unmolested, built up a + cluster of huts, and cleared a small territory for the raising of corn and + other vegetables.</p> + + <p>Shagewana from some cause became incensed toward them, and resolved + to burn the buildings and destroy their inhabitants. He called + his people together, and the war-cry was sounded throughout the mountains. + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page169" name="page169"></a>169</span>Taking advantage of the night, they surrounded the settlement, + and applying torches to the dwellings, rushed into the midst with tomahawk + in hand, and murdered all save two young men, who fought so + bravely that they spared their lives in order to torture them with more + prolonged sufferings. The names of these young men it is said were + <span class="special_name">Harris</span> and <span class="special_name">Snelling</span>. They were bound and taken to the rock, where + the savages went through a dance, as was their custom after a victory + had been achieved; and as day-light advanced, they prepared a feast. + Harris and Snelling were placed under keepers, who amused themselves + by tormenting their unhappy prisoners in various ways; such as + pricking them with their knives, cutting off small pieces of their ears + and fingers, and pulling out clumps of their hair. Before the close of + the day, the captives feigning sleep, the Indians left them for a moment + and went to the spring for water. Thereupon the young men burst + their bands and escaped into the bushes. Crawling upon the other side + of the rock, and being hotly pursued, it is supposed that they were + forced upon a narrow projection, about twelve inches wide, and four + feet below the inscription, where with some paint or coloring substance + which they carried about them they traced the characters to which we + have referred, and which have given the place the name of ‘<span class="special_name">The + Painted Rock</span>.’ The fate of the young men is not positively known; + but it is believed that they were discovered and hurled down the precipice.</p> + </div> + <div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">LINES TO J. T. OF IRELAND.</h2> + <h3 class="byline">BY THE AUTHOR OF ‘HINTS ON ETIQUETTE.’</h3> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">A heartless</span> flirt! with false and wicked eye,</p> + <p>Dost thou not feel thyself a living lie?</p> + <p>Dost thou not hear the ‘still small voice’ upbraid</p> + <p>Thy inmost conscience for the part thou’st played?</p> + <p>How mean the wish to victimize that one</p> + <p>Who ne’er had wooed thee, hadst thou not begun!</p> + <p>Who mark’d with pain thy saddened gaze on him,</p> + <p>Doom’d but to fall a martyr to thy whim;</p> + <p>Whose pallid cheek might win a fiend to spare,</p> + <p>Or soothe the sorrows that had blanched his hair:</p> + <p>Oh, cold-laid plan! drawn on from day to day</p> + <p>To meet the looks thou failed not to display,</p> + <p>Seeking at such a price another’s peace,</p> + <p>To feed the cravings of thy vain caprice;</p> + <p>Led him to think that thou wert all his own,</p> + <p>Then froze his passion with a heart of stone.</p> + <p>Lured by thy wiles, he gave that holiest gift,</p> + <p>A noble soul, before he saw thy drift;</p> + <p>He watched thy bosom heave, he heard thee sigh,</p> + <p>Nor deem’d such looks could cover treachery;</p> + <p>That one so proud <em>could</em> stoop to simulate</p> + <p>The purest feelings of this earthly state.</p> + <p>Yet words were useless, where no sense of blame</p> + <p>Could start a tear, nor tinge thy cheek with shame.</p> + <p>More merciful than thou to him, he prays</p> + <p>No pangs like his may wound thy lingering days;</p> + <p>Implores thy sins to him may be forgiven,</p> + <p>And leaves thee to the clemency of Heaven.</p> + </div> + </div> + <p class="sign"><span class="author">C. W. Day.</span></p> + </div> + <div class="department"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page170" name="page170"></a>170</span></p> + <h2 class="title">LITERARY NOTICES.</h2> + + + <p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Poems by James Russell Lowell.</span> In one volume. pp. 279. Cambridge: <span class="special_name">John Owen</span>. New-York: + <span class="special_name">Wiley and Putnam</span>.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">Two</span> years ago Mr. <span class="special_name">Lowell</span> presented the public with a volume of poems, which after + being read and blamed and praised with a most bewildering variety of opinion, lived + through it all, and remained as a permanent specimen of unformed but most promising + genius. Modest however as the offering was, it was duly valued by discerning judges, not + so much for its own ripe excellence, as for its appearing a happy token of something else. + In the major part of the annual soarings into <em>Cloud-land</em> which alarm the world, we seem + to see the sum total of the aspirant’s power. We feel that he has shown us <em>all</em>, and done + his best; that the force of his cleverness could go no farther; and we are willing to give + him his penny of praise, and thereby purchase a pleasant oblivion of him and his forevermore. + In this attempt of Mr. <span class="special_name">Lowell’s</span> it was impossible not to see that there lay more + beyond. We felt that however boldly he might have dived, he did not yet ‘bring up the + bottom,’ as the swimmer’s phrase goes. The faults of his poems were perceptible enough, + yet even these were the blemishes of latent strength, and the book was every where welcomed + with a hope. We have now to notice the appearance of a second proof of Mr. + <span class="special_name">Lowell’s</span> activity of faculty, in another and larger volume. It confirms the faith of those + who read the former one. There is, throughout, the manifestation of growth; of a continuous + advance toward a more decided character. Yet it is not without incompleteness + of expression; it smacks of immaturity still; but it is the immaturity which presages a man.</p> + + <p>The longest, and although not the most pleasing, yet perhaps the best poem in the volume + is the ‘Legend of Brittany,’ a romantic story, fringed with rhyme. It contains but one + bad line, and that one the first in the book: ‘Fair as a summer dream was <span class="special_name">Margaret</span>.’ + It is not only vague, but common-place: there is no particular reason that we know of + why a summer dream should be fairer than a winter dream; and we cannot think that the + poet meant to make use of that figure of speech called <i>amphibology</i>, although the line will + bear a double interpretation. The legend is of the guilty amour of <span class="special_name">Mordred</span>, a Knight + Templar, with a fair innocent who, upon the point of becoming a mother, is slain by her + lover at evening, in the wood. <span class="keep_together">Hereupon——</span> But let the poet speak:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>His crime complete, scarce knowing what he did,</p> + <p class="i2">(So goes the tale,) beneath the altar there</p> + <p>In the high church the stiffening corpse he hid,</p> + <p class="i2">And then, to ’scape that suffocating air,</p> + <p>Like a scared ghoule out of the porch he slid;</p> + <p class="i2">But his strained eyes saw blood-spots everywhere,</p> + <p>And ghastly faces thrust themselves between</p> + <p>His soul and hopes of peace with blasting mien.</p> + </div> + </div> + + + <p>It should be observed that Mordred, bound as a Templar by the strictest laws of chastity, + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page171" name="page171"></a>171</span>is aiming at the ‘high grand-mastership,’ and consequently suffers not only the remorse of + the murderer, but the dread of that defeat which his ambition must encounter in the discovery + of his deed. His character is ably delineated; perhaps too nicely drawn, for so + brief a tale, since the interest momentarily awakened in the ‘dark, proud man,’</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i6">——‘whose half-blown youth</p> + <p>Had shed its blossoms even in opening,’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>is immediately lost in the horror of the catastrophe. But to pursue the outline of the + story:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Now, on the second day, there was to be</p> + <p class="i2">A festival in church: from far and near</p> + <p>Came flocking in the sun-burnt peasantry,</p> + <p class="i2">And knights and dames with stately antique cheer,</p> + <p>Blazing with pomp, as if all faërie</p> + <p class="i2">Had emptied her quaint halls, or, as it were,</p> + <p>The illuminated marge of some old book,</p> + <p>While we were gazing, life and motion took.</p> + </div> + + <p class="poetry_break">·····</p> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then swelled the organ: up through choir and nave</p> + <p class="i2">The music trembled with an inward thrill</p> + <p>Of bliss at its own grandeur: wave on wave</p> + <p class="i2">Its flood of mellow thunder rose, until</p> + <p>The hushed air shivered with the throb it gave,</p> + <p class="i2">Then, poising for a moment, it stood still,</p> + <p>And sank and rose again, to burst in spray</p> + <p class="i2">That wandered into silence far away.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>The whole of the description of this choir-service is equally beautiful with these stanzas; + yet it may be objected that it in some degree impedes the progress of narration; and the + tale is of that sort which will scarce brook any delay in the telling. But to continue. + During the chanting, a breathless pause comes over the congregation; the music hushes; + all eyes are drawn by some strange impulse toward the altar; and while all is mute and + watchful, the voice of Margaret is heard from heaven, imploring a baptism for her unborn + babe. The author himself cannot feel more sensibly than ourselves the injustice of thus + patching together the beauteous fragments of his sorrowful and melodious history in so + hugger-mugger a way; but <span class="special_name">Maga</span> is peremptory, and hints to us that we cannot command + the scope of the ‘Edinburgh Review:’ The voice ceases to thrill the wondering multitude, + and the poet thus proceeds:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then the pale priests, with ceremony due</p> + <p class="i2">Baptized the child within its dreadful tomb,</p> + <p>Beneath that mother’s heart, whose instinct true</p> + <p class="i2">Star-like had battled down the triple gloom</p> + <p>Of sorrow, love, and death: young maidens, too,</p> + <p class="i2">Strewed the pale corpse with many a milk-white bloom,</p> + <p>And parted the bright hair, and on the breast</p> + <p>Crossed the unconscious hands in sign of rest.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>It is an indication of Mr. <span class="special_name">Lowell’s</span> capabilities for a more extended theme that the + second part of this poem is superior to the first. It is not merely that the interest of the + story increases, but the verse is more compressed, the expressions are more graphic, and + the flow of the stanza is finer and more natural. The opening lines are as vivid and impressive + as a passage from Tasso:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘As one who, from the sunshine and the green,</p> + <p class="i2">Enters the solid darkness of a cave,</p> + <p>Nor knows what precipice or pit unseen</p> + <p class="i2">May yawn before him with its sudden grave,</p> + <p>And, with hushed breath, doth often forward lean,</p> + <p class="i2">Deeming he hears the plashing of a wave</p> + <p>Dimly below, or feels a damper air</p> + <p>From out some dreary chasm, he knows not where;</p> + <p class="i2">So from the sunshine and the green of Love,</p> + <p>We enter on our story’s darker part,’ etc.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page172" name="page172"></a>172</span>The faults of the whole production are the necessary ones of all young writers of original + power; a too ready faculty of imitation, and a lack of conciseness. The poets whom + Mr. <span class="special_name">Lowell</span> mostly reminds us of, in his faults, are <span class="special_name">Shelly</span> and <span class="special_name">Shakspeare</span>; the juvenile + <span class="special_name">Shakspeare</span>, we mean—<span class="special_name">Shakspeare</span> the sonnetteer. Both in the ‘Revolt of + Islam’ and ‘Tarquin and Lucrece,’ blemishes resembling his own constantly occur. It + will nevertheless be gratifying to his many ardent admirers to perceive that on the whole + he has exhibited a more definite approach to what he is capable of accomplishing, and that + in proportion as he has grown less vague and ethereal, less fond of personifying sounds and + sentiments, so has he advanced toward a more manly and enduring standard of excellence. + ‘Prometheus’ is the next longest poem, and it has afforded us great gratification. It might + almost be mistaken for the breath of <span class="special_name">Æschylus</span>, except that it contains sparkles of freedom + that even the warm soul of the Greek could never have felt. The first two lines glitter + with light:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘One after one the stars have risen and set,</p> + <p>Sparkling upon the hoar-frost on my chain.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Although, rhyme is no tyrant to our poet, yet he seems to take a fuller swing when free + from its influence; and the verse which he employs for the vehicle of his thoughts in this + genuine poem is peculiarly adapted to the grandeur and dignity of his subject. This composition + will stand the true test of poetry; a test which many immortal verses cannot abide, + for it will bear translation into prose without loss of beauty or power: it contains more + thoughts than lines, and although abounding in high poetic imaginings, the spirit of true + philosophy which it contains is superior to the poetry.</p> + + <p>Of Mr. <span class="special_name">Lowell’s</span> shorter specimens we may remark, in contradistinction to what has + been said of the Legend of Brittany, that so far as they resemble the <em>kind</em> of his former productions, + so far in short as they are re-castings of himself, they do him injustice. We now + feel that he is capable of stronger and loftier efforts, and are unwilling to overlook in his + later compositions the flaws that are wilfully copied from his own volume. The public + demand that he should go onward, and not wander back to dally among flowers that have + been plucked before, and were then accepted for their freshness. He must devote himself + to subjects of wider importance, and give his imaginations a more permanent foothold upon + the hearts of men. His love-poems, though many of them would have added grace to his + <em>first</em> collection, fail to excite our admiration <em>equally</em> in this. We do not say that he had exhausted + panegyric before; far less would we insinuate that passion itself is exhaustible; + and yet there is a point where to pause might be more graceful than to go on: ‘<i>Sunt certi + denique fines.</i>’ Did any one ever wish that even <span class="special_name">Petrarch</span> had written more? Mr. + <span class="special_name">Lowell</span> then ought to consider this, and begin to build upon a broader foundation than his + own territory, beautiful as it may be, of private and personal fancies and affections. Perhaps + there is no exception to the law that love should always be the first impulse that leads + an ardent soul to poesy. (By poesy we do not mean school-exercises, and prize heroics approved + by a committee of literary gentlemen.) On this account, it may be, that a young + poet is always anxious to walk upon the ground where he first felt his strength, considering + that a minstrel without love were as powerless, to adopt the Rev. <span class="special_name">Sidney Smith’s</span> jocose + but not altogether clerical illustration, as Sampson in a wig. Mr. <span class="special_name">Lowell</span> evinces the + firmest faith in his passion, which is evidently as sincere as it is well-bestowed. It is from + this perhaps that he derives a corresponding faith in his productions, which always seems + proportionate to his love of his subject. Let him be assured however that he is not always + the strongest when he feels the most so, nor must he mistake the absence of this feeling for + a symptom of diminished power. Should he be at any time inclined to such a self-estimate, + let him refer his judgment to his ‘Prometheus’ and ‘Rhœcus.’ In his ‘Ode’ also, + and his ‘Glance behind the Curtain,’ there is much to embolden him toward the highest + endeavors in what he would perhaps disdain to call his Art. Poesy, notwithstanding, <em>is</em> + an <em>Art</em>, which even <span class="special_name">Horace</span> and <span class="special_name">Dryden</span> did not scorn to consider such; and our poet + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page173" name="page173"></a>173</span>ought to remember that he is bound not only to utter his own sentiments and fantasies according + to his own impulse, but moreover to consult in some degree the ears of the world: + the poet’s task is double; to speak <span class="small_all_caps">FROM</span> himself indeed, but <span class="small_all_caps">TO</span> the hearing of others. + The contempt which a man of genius feels for the mere mechanicism of verse and rhyme + may naturally enough lead him to affect an inattention to it; but in this he only benefits + the school of smoother artists by allowing them at least <em>one</em> superiority. If he accuses them + of being silly, they can retort that he is ugly.</p> + <p>Our author in this second volume has given the small carpers who pick at the ‘eds’ of + past participles, and stickle for old-fashioned <em>moon</em>-shine instead of moon-<em>shine</em>, fewer causes + of complaint. His diction is well-chosen and befitting his themes; and this is a characteristic + which peculiarly marks the true artist, if it does not indicate the true genius. His + execution, his ‘style of handling,’ is adapted to his subject; an excellence in which too + many artists, whether painters or poets, are sadly deficient. In this respect his performances + and those of his friend <span class="special_name">Page</span> may be hung together. From the stately and dignified lines + of ‘Prometheus’ to the jetty, dripping verse of ‘The Fountain,’ the step is very wide. + How full of sparkling, brilliant effects are these joyous lines?</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Into</span> the sunshine,</p> + <p class="i2">Full of the light,</p> + <p>Leaping and flashing</p> + <p class="i2">From morn till night!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Into the moonlight,</p> + <p class="i2">Whiter than snow,</p> + <p>Waving so flower-like</p> + <p class="i2">When the winds blow!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Mr. <span class="special_name">Lowell</span> occasionally makes use of somewhat quaint, Spenserian expressions, but + generally with peculiar effect. His abundant fancy seems to find its natural garb in the + short and expressive phraseology of those old English writers of whom he manifests on all + occasions so thorough an appreciation. As a sweet specimen, although a careless one, of + his power of combining deep feeling with the most picturesque imagery, we select one of + his lightest touches—‘Forgetfulness:’</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">There</span> is a haven of sure rest</p> + <p class="i2">From the loud world’s bewildering stress:</p> + <p>As a bird dreaming on her nest,</p> + <p>As dew hid in a rose’s breast,</p> + <p>As Hesper in the glowing West;</p> + <p class="i6">So the heart sleeps</p> + <p class="i6">In thy calm deeps,</p> + <p class="i4">Serene Forgetfulness!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>No sorrow in that place may be,</p> + <p class="i2">The noise of life grows less and less:</p> + <p>As moss far down within the sea,</p> + <p>As, in white lily caves, a bee,</p> + <p>As life in a hazy reverie;</p> + <p class="i6">So the heart’s wave</p> + <p class="i6">In thy dim cave,</p> + <p class="i4">Hushes, Forgetfulness!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Duty and care fade far away,</p> + <p class="i2">What toil may be we cannot guess:</p> + <p>As a ship anchored in a bay,</p> + <p>As a cloud at summer-noon astray,</p> + <p>As water-blooms in a breezeless day;</p> + <p class="i6">So, ’neath thine eyes,</p> + <p class="i6">The full heart lies,</p> + <p class="i4">And dreams, Forgetfulness!</p> + </div> + </div> + + + <p>‘The Shepherd of King Admetus’ is exceedingly graceful and delicate, but it is too long + to be quoted entire, and too perfect to be disjointed. We must reluctantly skip ‘Fatherland,’ + ‘The Inheritance,’ ‘The Moon,’ ‘Rhœcus,’ and other favorites, until we come to + ‘L’Envoi,’ where our author once more throws his arms aloft, free from the incumbrance + of rhyme. This poem is inscribed to ‘M. W.,’ his heart’s idol. The warm affection which + radiates from its lines, it is not to be mistaken, is an out-flowing of pure human love. + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page174" name="page174"></a>174</span>Among these personal feelings, touching which we have ‘said our say,’ we find the following; + which in <em>one</em> respect so forcibly illustrates what we have written within these two + weeks to a western correspondent, that we cannot forbear to quote it here:</p> + + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Thou</span> art not of those niggard souls, who deem</p> + <p>That poesy is but to jingle words,</p> + <p>To string sweet sorrows for apologies</p> + <p>To hide the barrenness of unfurnished hearts,</p> + <p>To prate about the surfaces of things,</p> + <p>And make more thread-bare what was quite worn out:</p> + <p>Our common thoughts are deepest, and to give</p> + <p>Such beauteous tones to these, as needs must take</p> + <p>Men’s hearts their captives to the end of time,</p> + <p>So that who hath not the choice gift of words</p> + <p>Takes these into his soul, as welcome friends,</p> + <p>To make sweet music of his joys and woes,</p> + <p>And be all Beauty’s swift interpreter,</p> + <p>Links of bright gold ’twixt Nature and his heart</p> + <p>This is the errand high of Poesy.</p> + </div> + + <p class="poetry_break">·····</p> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>They tell us that our land was made for song,</p> + <p>With its huge rivers and sky-piercing peaks,</p> + <p>Its sea-like lakes and mighty cataracts,</p> + <p>Its forests vast and hoar, and prairies wide,</p> + <p>And mounds that tell of wondrous tribes extinct;</p> + <p>But Poesy springs not from rocks and woods;</p> + <p>Her womb and cradle are the human heart,</p> + <p>And she can find a nobler theme for song</p> + <p>In the most loathsome man that blasts the sight,</p> + <p>Than in the broad expanse of sea and shore</p> + <p>Between the frozen deserts of the poles.</p> + <p>All nations have their message from on high,</p> + <p>Each the messiah of some central thought,</p> + <p>For the fulfilment and delight of Man:</p> + <p>One has to teach that Labor is divine;</p> + <p>Another, Freedom; and another, Mind;</p> + <p>And all, that <span class="special_name">God</span> is open-eyed and just,</p> + <p>The happy centre and calm heart of all.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>It is impossible to read such sentiments as these, without feeling our hearts open to him + who gives them utterance. Mr. <span class="special_name">Lowell</span> is one of those writers who gain admiration for + their verses and lovers for themselves. We can pay him no higher compliment.</p> + + <p>There is nothing in the title-page or appearance of this elegant volume to indicate that + it is not published in Cambridge, England; but unlike the majority of American books of + poetry, any page in the work will give out too strong an odor of Bunker-Hill, though we + find no allusion to that sacred eminence, to allow the reader to remain long in doubt of its + paternity. Although we hold that any writing worthy of being called poetry must be of universal + acceptance, and adapted to the longings and necessities of the entire human family, + as the same liquid element quenches the thirst of the inhabitants of the tropics and the + poles, yet every age and every clime must of necessity tincture its own productions. We + do not therefore diminish in the slightest degree the high poetical pretensions of Mr. <span class="special_name">Lowell’s</span> + poems, when we claim for them a national character, silent though they be upon + ‘the stars and stripes,’ and a complexion which no other age of the world than our own + could have given. They are not only American poems, but they are poems of the nineteenth + century. There is a spirit of freedom, of love for <span class="special_name">God</span> and <span class="special_name">Man</span>, that broods over + them, which our partiality for our own country makes us too ready perhaps to claim as + the natural offspring of our land and laws. The volume is dedicated to <span class="special_name">William Page</span>, + the painter, in a bit of as sweet and pure language as can be found in English prose. It + might be tacked on to one of <span class="special_name">Dryden’s</span> dedications without creating an incongruous + feeling. The dedication is as honorable to the poet as to the painter. Had all dedications + been occasioned by such feelings as gave birth to this, these graceful and fitting tributes of + affection and gratitude would never have dwindled away to the cold and scanty lines, like + an epitaph on a charity tomb-stone, in which they appear, when they appear at all, in most + modern books.</p> + + + <p class="work_reviewed"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page175" name="page175"></a>175</span><span class="special_name">Thirty Years passed among the Players in England and America.</span> Interspersed with + Anecdotes and Reminiscences of a Variety of Persons connected with the Drama during the + Theatrical Life of <span class="special_name">Joe Cowell</span>, Comedian. Written by himself. In one volume, pp. 103. New-York: + <span class="special_name">Harper and Brothers</span>.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">Of</span> all the pages in English memoirs, none are so rich in humor and various observation + as those devoted to the players. <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span> somewhere says, that the <em>only</em> good biographies + are those of actors; and he gives for a reason their want of respectability! Being + ‘vagabonds’ by law in England, the truth of their histories he tells us is not varnished over + by delicate omissions. The first branch of this assumption is certainly true, whatever + cause may be at the bottom of it; and Mr. <span class="special_name">Cowell</span>, in the very entertaining volume before + us, has added another proof of the correctness of Herr <span class="special_name">Teufelsdröckh’s</span> flattering conclusions. + His narrative is rambling, various, instructive, and amusing. He plunges at + once <i>in medias res</i>; and being in himself an epitome of his class; of their successes, excitements, + reverses and depressions; he paints as he goes along a most graphic picture of + the life of an actor. We shall follow his own desultory method; and proceed without + farther prelude to select here and there a ‘bit’ from his well-filled ‘budget of fun.’ Let us + open it with this common portrait of a vain querulous, complaining Thespian, who is never + appreciated, never rewarded:</p> + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">I was</span> seated in the reading-room of the hotel, thinking away the half hour before dinner, when + my attention was attracted by a singularly-looking man. He was dressed in a green coat, brass-buttoned + close up to the neck, light gray, approaching to blue, elastic pantaloons, white cotton + stockings, dress shoes, with more riband employed to fasten them than was either useful or ornamental; + a hat, smaller than those usually worn, placed rather on one side of a head of dark curly + hair; fine black eyes, and what altogether would have been pronounced a handsome face, but for an + overpowering expression of impudence and vulgarity; a sort of footman-out-of-place-looking creature; + his hands were thrust into the pockets of his coat behind, and in consequence exposing a portion + of his person, as ridiculously, and perhaps as unconsciously, as a turkey-cock does when he intends + to make himself very agreeable. He was walking rather fancifully up and down the room, partly + singing, partly whistling ‘<i>The Bay of Biscay O</i>,’ and at the long-lived, but most nonsensical chorus, + he shook the fag-ends of his divided coat tail, as if in derision of that fatal ‘short sea,’ so well known + and despised in that salt-water burial-place. I was pretending to read a paper, when a carrier + entered, and placed a play-bill before me on the table. I had taken it up and began perusing it, when + he strutted up, and leaning over my shoulder, said:</p> + + <p>‘‘I beg pardon, Sir; just a moment.’</p> + + <p>‘I put it toward him.</p> + + <p>‘‘No matter, Sir, no matter; I’ve seen all I want to see; the same old two-and-sixpence; <i>Hamlet, + Mr. Sandford</i>, in large letters; <i>and Laertes, Mr. Vandenhoff</i>! <span class="keep_together">O——!’</span></p> + + <p>‘And with an epithet not in any way alluding to the ‘sweet South,’ he stepped off to the <i>Biscay</i> + tune, allegro. I was amused; and perhaps the expression of my face encouraged him to return + instantly, and with the familiarity of an old acquaintance, for he said:</p> + + <p>‘‘My dear Sir, that’s the way the profession is going to the devil: here, Sir, is the ‘<em>manager</em>’—with + a sneer—‘one of the <span class="keep_together">d——dest</span> humbugs that ever trod the stage, must have his name in large + letters, of <em>course</em>; and the <em>and</em> Laertes, Mr. Vandenhoff; he’s a favorite of the Grand Mogul, as we + call old Sandford, and so he gets all the fat; and d’ye know why he’s shoved down the people’s + throats? Because he’s so <span class="keep_together">d——d</span> bad the old man shows to advantage alongside of him. Did you + ever see him?’</p> + + <p>‘I shook my head.</p> + + <p>‘‘Why, Sir, he’s a tall, stooping, lantern-jawed, asthmatic-voiced, spindle-shanked fellow.’ Here + he put his foot on the rail of my chair, and slightly scratched the calf of his leg. ‘Hair the color of + a cock-canary,’ thrusting his fingers through his own coal-black ringlets; ‘with light blue eyes, Sir, + trimmed with pink gymp. He hasn’t been long caught; just from some nunnery in Liverpool, or + somewhere, where he was brought up as a Catholic priest; and here he comes, with his Latin and + Lancashire dialect, to lick the manager’s great toe, and be hanged to him, and gets all the business; + while men of talent, and nerve, and personal appearance,’ shifting his hands from his coat-pockets to + those of his tights, ‘who have drudged in the profession for years, are kept in the back-ground; ’tis + enough to make a fellow swear!’</p> + + <p>‘‘You, then, Sir, are an actor?’ said I, calmly.</p> + + <p>‘‘An actor! yes, Sir, I am an <em>actor</em>, and have been ever since I was an infant in arms; played the + child that cries in the third act of the comedy of ‘The Chances,’ when it was got up with splendor + by Old Gerald, at Sheerness, when I was only nine weeks old; and I recollect, that is, my mother + told me, that I cried louder, and more naturally, than any child they’d ever had. <em>That’s me</em>,’ said + he, pointing to the play-bill—<i>Horatio, Mr. Howard</i>. ‘I <em>used to make</em> a great part of Horatio <em>once</em>; + and I can now send any Hamlet to <span class="keep_together">h-ll</span> in that character, when I give it energy and pathos; but this + nine-tailed bashaw of a manager insists upon my keeping my ‘madness in the back-ground,’ as he + calls it, and so I just walk through it, speak the words, and make it a poor, spooney, preaching son of + a how-came-ye-so, and do no more for it than the author has.’</p> + </div> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page176" name="page176"></a>176</span>Mr. <span class="special_name">Cowell</span> subsequently enlists under the same manager, and is received with great + apparent cordiality by the members of his <i>corps dramatique</i>: ‘The loan of ‘properties,’ or + any thing I have, is perfectly at your service,’ was iterated by all. Howard said: ‘My + boy, by heavens, I’ll lend you my blue tights; oh, you’re perfectly welcome; I don’t wear + them till the farce; Banquo’s one of my <em>flesh parts</em>; nothing like the naked truth; I’m + <span class="keep_together">h—l</span> for nature. By-the-by, you’ll often have to wear black smalls and stockings; I’ll + put you up to something; save your buying silks, darning, stitch-dropping, louse-ladders, + and all that; grease your legs and burnt-cork ’em; it looks <span class="keep_together">d——d</span> well ‘from the front.’’ + Mr. <span class="special_name">Cowell</span>, it appears, was an artist of no mean pretensions; and while engaged on one + occasion in sketching a picturesque view of Stoke Church, he was interrupted in rather a + novel manner by a brother actor named <span class="special_name">Reymes</span>, somewhat akin, we fancy, to his friend + <span class="special_name">Howard</span>, albeit ‘excellent company:’</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">Several</span> times I was disturbed in my occupation, to look round to inquire the cause of a crash, + every now and then, like the breaking of glass; and at length I caught a glimpse of Reymes, slyly + jerking a pebble, under his arm, through one of the windows. I recollected twice, in walking home + with him, late at night, from the theatre, his quietly taking a brick-bat from out of his coat-pocket + and deliberately smashing it through the casement of the Town Hall, and walking on and continuing + his conversation as if nothing had happened. Crack! again. I began to suspect an abberration of + intellect, and said:</p> + + <p>‘‘Reymes, for heaven’s sake what are you doing?’</p> + + <p>‘‘Showing my gratitude,’ said he; and crack! went another.</p> + + <p>‘‘Showing the devil!’ said I; ‘you’re breaking the church windows.’</p> + + <p>‘‘Why, I know it—certainly; what do you stare at?’ said the eccentric. ‘I broke nearly every + pane three weeks ago; I couldn’t hit them all. After you have broken a good many, the stones are + apt to go through the holes you’ve already made. They only finished mending them the day + before yesterday; I came out and asked the men when they were likely to get done;’ and clatter! + clatter! went another.</p> + + <p>‘‘That’s excellent!’ said he, in great glee. ‘I hit the frame just in the right place; I knocked out + two large ones that time.’</p> + + <p>‘‘Reymes,’ said I, with temper, ‘if you don’t desist, I must leave off my drawing.’</p> + + <p>‘‘Well,’ said he, ‘only this one,’ and crack! it went; ‘there! I’ve done. Since it annoys you, I’ll + come by myself to-morrow and finish the job; it’s the only means in my power of proving my + gratitude.’</p> + + <p>‘‘Proving your folly,’ said I. ‘Why, Reymes, you must be out of your senses.’</p> + + <p>‘‘Why, did I never tell you?’ said he. ‘Oh! then I don’t wonder at your surprise. I thought I + had told you. I had an uncle, a glazier, who died, and left me twenty pounds, and this mourning-ring; + and I therefore have made it a rule to break the windows of all public places ever since. The + loss is not worth speaking of to the parish, and puts a nice bit of money in the pocket of some poor + dealer in putty, with probably a large family to support. And now I’ve explained, I presume you + have no objection to my proceeding in paying what I consider a debt of gratitude due to my dead + uncle.’</p> + + <p>‘‘Hold! Reymes,’ said I, as he was picking up a pebble. ‘How do you know but the poor fellow + with the large family may not undertake to repair the windows by contract, at so much a year or + month?’</p> + + <p>‘‘Eh! egad, I never thought of that,’ said the whimsical, good-hearted creature. ‘I’ll suspend + operations until I’ve made the inquiry, and if I’ve wronged him I’ll make amends.’</p> + + </div> + + <p>Mr. <span class="special_name">Cowell</span> is a plain-spoken man, and seldom spares age or sex in his exposure of the + secrets of the stage, and the appliances and means to boot which are sometimes adopted + by theatrical men and women to make an old face or form ‘look maist as weel’s the new.’ + The celebrated Mrs. <span class="special_name">Jordan</span>, in performing with him, was always very averse to his playing + near the foot-lights, greatly preferring to act between the second entrances. The ‘moving + why’ is thus explained:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">The</span> fact is, she was getting old; dimples turn to crinkles after long use; beside, she wore a wig + glued on; and in the heat of acting—for she was always in earnest—I have seen some of the tenacious + compound with which it was secured trickle down a wrinkle behind her ear; her person, too, + was extremely round and large, though still retaining something of the outline of its former grace:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘And after all, ’twould puzzle to say where</p> + <p>It would not spoil a charm to pare.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><span class="first_word">There</span> is no calamity in the catalogue of ills ‘that flesh is heir to’ so horrible as the approach of old + age to an actor. Juvenile tragedy, light comedy, and walking gentleman with little pot-bellies, and + <em>have-been</em> pretty women, are really to be pitied. Fancy a lady, who has had quires of sonnets made + to her eye-brow, being obliged, at last, to black it, play at the back of the stage at night, sit with her + back to the window in a shady part of the green-room in the morning, and keep on her bonnet unless + she can afford a very natural wig.’</p> + </div> + + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page177" name="page177"></a>177</span>Sad enough! sad enough! certainly, and as true as it is melancholy. But let us get on + board the Yankee vessel which brings Mr. <span class="special_name">Cowell</span> to America, and at <em>his</em> ‘present writing’ + is lying off Gravesend. The difficulty he experienced in getting up a conversation + with his fellow-passengers is a grievance still loudly complained of by his travelling countrymen:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">It</span> was a dark, drizzly, melancholy night; a fair specimen of Gravesend weather and the parts adjacent; + no ‘star that’s westward from the pole’ to point my destined path, and furnish food for speculative + thought; and, after sliding five or six times up and down some twenty feet of wet deck, I + groped my way to the cabin. The captain was not on board, and I found myself a stranger among + men. Of all gregarious animals man is the most tardy in getting acquainted: meet them for the first + time in a jury-box, a stage-coach, or the cabin of a ship, and they always remind me of a little lot of + specimen sheep from different flocks, put together for the first time in the same pen; they walk about + and round and round, with all their heads and tails in different directions, and not a baa! escapes them; + but in half an hour some crooked-pated bell-wether perhaps, gives a south-down a little dig in the + ribs, and this example is followed by a Merino; and before the ending of the fair their heads are all one + way, and you’ll find them bleating together in full chorus. Now, in the case of man, a snuff-box instead + of the sheep’s horn, is an admirable introduction; for, if he refuses to take a pinch, he’ll generally + give you a sufficient reason why he does not, and that’s an excellent chance to form, perhaps, a + lasting friendship, but to scrape an acquaintance to a certainty; and if he takes it perhaps he’ll sneeze, + and you can come in with your ‘God bless you!’ and so on, to a conversation about the plague in ’66, + or the yellow fever on some other occasion, and can ‘bury your friends by dozens,’ and ‘escape yourself + by a miracle,’ very pleasantly for half an hour. But in this instance it was a total failure: one said + ‘I don’t use it;’ another shook his head, and the third emptied his mouth of half a pint of spittle, and + said ‘he thought it bad enough to chaw!’’</p> + </div> + + <p>When the vessel is fairly at sea, the social ice is gradually broken. It being just after + the war, the <i>rationale</i> of the following brief dialogue between Mr. <span class="special_name">Cowell</span> and the mate + will be readily understood:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + <p>‘The mate was a weather-beaten, humorous ‘sea-monster;’ upon asking his name, he replied:</p> + <p>‘‘If you’re an Englishman and I once tell you my name, you’ll never forget it.’</p> + <p>‘‘I don’t know that,’ I replied; ‘I’m very unfortunate in remembering names.’</p> + <p>‘‘Oh, never mind!’ said he, with a peculiarly sly, comical look; ‘if you’re an Englishman you’ll + never forget mine.’</p> + <p>‘‘Then I certainly am,’ I replied.</p> + <p>‘‘Well, then,’ said he drily, ‘my name’s <span class="special_name">Bunker</span>! and I’m <span class="keep_together">d——d</span> if any Englishman will ever forget + that name!’’</p> + </div> + + + <p>Mr. <span class="special_name">Cowell’s</span> arrival, début, and theatrical progress and associations in this and other + Atlantic towns, compose a diversified and palatable feast for the stage-loving public. His + sketches of actors, male and female, native and foreign, are limned with an artistical hand. + His picture of <span class="special_name">Kean’s</span> fleeing from ‘the hot pursuit of obloquy’ is exceedingly vivid; and + ‘old <span class="special_name">Mathews’</span> American ‘trip’ is well set forth. We find nothing so good, however, + touching that extraordinary mime, as the following illustration of his sensitiveness to newspaper + criticism, from the pen of the dramatic veteran, <span class="special_name">Moncrief</span>:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘‘<span class="first_word">Look</span> here,’ he would say, taking up a paper and reading: ‘Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.—We + last night visited this elegant theatre for the purpose of witnessing the performance of that excellent + comedian, Mr. <span class="special_name">Belvi</span>, as <i>Octavian</i>, in the ‘Mountaineers,’ for his own benefit. We hope it was + for his own benefit, for it certainly was not for the benefit of any one else; for a more execrable performance + we never witnessed. This gentleman had better stick to his comedy!’ Grant me patience; + Heaven! There’s a fellow! What does he know about it? I suppose he would abuse my <i>Iago</i>—say + that is execrable! Isn’t this sufficient to drive any body mad? Because a man happens to have + played comedy all his life, ‘<em>we</em>’ takes upon himself to think as a matter of course he can’t play tragedy, + though he may possess first rate tragic powers, as I do myself! I should have been the best <i>Hamlet</i> + on the stage if I didn’t limp; but let me go on: ‘We have seen <span class="special_name">Elliston</span> in the character.’ A charlatan, + a mountebank; wouldn’t have me at Drury; and yet ‘<em>we</em>’ thinks he has a syllable the advantage + of his competitor in this instance. We! we! as if the fellow had a parcel of pigs in his inside; + <em>we! we!</em> Who’s <em>we</em>? Why don’t he say Tompkins, or whatever his name is, Tompkins thinks + Elliston better in <i>Octavian</i> than Belvi; Belvi could kick Tompkins then; but who can kick <em>we</em>?’ + etc., etc. And yet poor Mathews had no warmer admirers, no truer, no more constant friends than + those whose occasional animadversions would thus excite his ire.’</p> + + </div> + + <p>After running a very successful and popular career at the Park-Theatre, our artist-actor + is induced to assume the management of a circus-theatre just then in high vogue at the + <span class="special_name">Tattersall’s</span> building in Broadway. The subjoined was one of the many incidents + which occurred on his assuming the reins of the establishment:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">The</span> company was both extensive and excellent; a stud of thirty-three horses, four ponies + and a jack-ass, all so admirably selected and educated, that for beauty and utility they could + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page178" name="page178"></a>178</span>not be equalled any where. The company was popular and our success enormous. Of course, + like others when first placed in power, I made a total change in my cabinet. <span class="special_name">John Blake</span> + I appointed secretary of the treasury and principal ticket-seller; and to prove how excellent + a judge I was of integrity and capacity, he was engaged at the Park at the end of the season, and + has held that important situation there ever since. A delicious specimen of the Emerald Isle, with + the appropriate equestrian appellation of Billy Rider, received an office of nearly equal trust, though + smaller chance of perquisites—stage and stable door-keeper at night, and through the day a variety + of duties, to designate half of which would occupy a chapter. He was strict to a fault in the discharge + of his duty, as every urchin of that day who attempted to sneak into the circus can testify. + Conway the tragedian called to see me one evening, and in attempting to pass was stopped by Billy, + armed as usual, with a pitch-fork.</p> + + <p>‘‘What’s this you want? Who are ye? and where are you going?’ says Billy.</p> + + <p>‘I wish to see Mr. Cowell,’ says Conway.</p> + + <p>‘Oh then, it’s till to-morrow at ten o’clock, in his office, that you’ll have to wait to perform that + operation.’</p> + + <p>‘But, my dear fellow, my name is Conway, of the theatre; Mr. Cowell is my particular friend, and + I have his permission to enter.’</p> + + <p>‘By my word, Sir, I thank ye kindly for the explination; and it’s a mighty tall, good-looking gentleman + you are too,’ says Billy, presenting his pitch-fork; ‘but if ye were the blessed Redeemer, + with the cross under your arm, you couldn’t pass me without an orther from Mr. Cowell.’</p> + + </div> + <p>‘<span class="special_name">Joe Cowell</span>,’ in years gone by, has made us laugh many a good hour; and we hold + ourselves bound to reciprocate the pleasure he has afforded us, by warmly commending his + pleasant, gossipping volume to the readers of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> throughout the United + States.</p> + + + + <p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">An Elementary Treatise on Human Physiology</span>: on the Basis of the ‘Précis Elémentaire de + Physiologie’ of <span class="special_name">Magendie</span>. Translated, enlarged, and illustrated with Diagrams and Cuts, by + Prof. <span class="special_name">John Revere</span>, M. D., of the University of New-York. In one volume. pp. 533. New-York: + <span class="special_name">Harper and Brothers</span>.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> American translator and editor of the volume above cited is of opinion that since + the death of Sir <span class="special_name">Charles Bell</span>, there is no physiologist who stands so preëminent as an + original observer and inquirer, or who has contributed so much to the present improved + state of the science by his individual efforts, as M. <span class="special_name">Magendie</span>. In facility in experimenting + upon living animals, and extended opportunities of observation, no one has surpassed + him; while through a long professional career his attention has been chiefly devoted to + physiological inquiries. There is one excellence which constitutes a predominant feature + in his system of Physiology that cannot be estimated too highly by the student of medicine; + and that is, the severe system of induction that he has pursued, excluding those imaginative + and speculative views which rather belong to metaphysics than physiology. The work is + also remarkable for the conciseness and perspicuity of its style, the clearness of its descriptions, + and the admirable arrangement of its matter. The present is a translation of the + fifth and last edition of the ‘<i>Précis Elémentaire de Physiologie</i>,’ in which the science is + brought down to the present time. It is not, like many modern systems, merely eclectic, or + a compilation of the experiments and doctrines of others. On the contrary, all the important + questions discussed, if not originally proposed and investigated by the author, have + been thoroughly examined and experimented upon by him. His observations, therefore, + on all these important subjects, carry with them great interest and weight derived from + these investigations. The translator and editor, while faithfully adhering to the spirit of + the author, has endeavored, and with success, to strip the work of its foreign costume, and + <em>naturalize</em> it to our language. He has added a large number of diagrams and pictorial + illustrations of the different organs and structures, taken from the highest and most recent + authorities, in the hope of rendering clearer to the student of medicine the observations + and reasonings on their functions. He has also made a number of additions on subjects + which he thought had been passed over in too general a manner in the original work of + <span class="special_name">Magendie</span>. In a word, his aim ‘to present a system of human physiology which shall exhibit + in a clear and intelligible manner the actual state of the science, and adapted to the + use of students of medicine in the United States,’ has been thoroughly carried out.</p> + + + <p class="work_reviewed"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page179" name="page179"></a>179</span><span class="special_name">The Study of the Life of Woman</span>. By Madame <span class="special_name">Necker de Saussure</span>, of Geneva. Translated + from the French. In one volume. pp. 288. Philadelphia: <span class="special_name">Lea and Blanchard</span>. New-York: + <span class="special_name">Wiley and Putnam</span>.</p> + + + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> distinguished clergyman who introduces this excellent book to American readers + does it no more than justice when he declares it to be the work of a highly gifted mind, + containing many beautiful philosophical views of the relation which woman sustains in + society, abounding in the results of careful observation, and characterized by a pervading + religious spirit. It is adapted to accomplish great good, and its circulation would do much + to aid those who have the care of youthful females, and who desire that they should fill the + place in society for which they were designed. There is no work in our language which + occupies the place that this is intended to fill; nor which presents so interesting a view of + the organization of society by its great <span class="special_name">Author</span>, and of the situation appropriated to <em>woman</em> + in that organization. The book has reference more particularly to the elevated circles of + society; to those who have advantages for education; who have leisure for the cultivation + of the intellect and the heart after the usual course of education is completed, and who + have opportunities of doing good to others. ‘It will supply a place which is not filled now, + and would be eminently useful to that increasing number of individuals in our country. + It is much to be regretted that not a few when they leave school seem to contemplate little + farther advancement in the studies in which they have been engaged. A just view of the + place which woman is designed to occupy in society, as presented in this volume, would do + much to correct this error. We should regard it as an auspicious omen, if this work should + have an extensive circulation in this country, and believe that wherever it is perused it + will contribute to the elevation of the sex; to promote large views of the benevolence and + wisdom of the Creator in regard to the human family, and to advance the interests of + true religion.’</p> + + + + <p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">The American Review, and Metropolitan Magazine</span>. Numbers five and six. pp. 588. New-York: + <span class="special_name">Saxton and Miles</span>, Broadway.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> number of this publication for the December quarter is a very good one. We were + especially interested in the ‘Michael Agonistes’ of Mr. <span class="special_name">J. W. Brown</span>, which is, in parts, + both powerful and harmonious, and in a dissertation upon ‘<span class="special_name">Weir’s</span> National Painting.’ + The writer is of opinion that our eminent artist has made a sad mistake in the conception + of his striking group, although he awards warm praise to certain portions of the picture. + Still he says: ‘It argues slight knowledge of human nature to suppose that melancholy + resignation characterized those who at Delft-Haven embarked for a land of civil and religious + liberty; wild and inhospitable, to be sure, but still a land of Freedom. There + were other thoughts in the hearts of that noble band than those of sorrow. Even had they + been leaving the country of their birth, they would not have sorrowed; but as it was, + bidding farewell to a land of foreigners, almost as hostile to freedom as their own, they + felt not otherwise than joyful, and their bosoms were full of thoughtful, reasoning gladness. + The parting kiss of that young wife must have tried, somewhat, the firmness of her husband, + yet not enough to cloud his bright anticipations of the future. A different mood + than that imagined by Mr. <span class="special_name">Weir</span> should have pervaded the group, if we are not widely + in error. ‘With all its faults,’ adds our critic, however, ‘The Embarkation of the Pilgrims,’ + although not indicative of great genius, yet regarded as to execution, does honor + to Mr. <span class="special_name">Weir</span>. We should do injustice to the central group, did we omit to confess that the + devotional grandeur of the face of the minister, raised to heaven in prayer, struck us with a + feeling of awe, such as we had perhaps never before experienced.’ This especial tribute + we have heard paid to this picture by every person whom we have heard refer to it.</p> + </div> + <div class="department" id="editors_table"> + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page180" name="page180"></a>180</span></p> + <h2 class="title">EDITOR’S TABLE.</h2> + <div class="ed_table_item"> + + + <p><span class="ed_table_title">American Manners and American + Literature.</span>—We ask the attention of every right-minded American to the + following remarks, which we take the liberty of transcribing from a welcome + epistle to the Editor, from one of our most esteemed and popular contributors. + The follies which it exposes and the evils which it laments have heretofore + formed the themes of papers in this Magazine from the pens of able + correspondents, as well as of occasional comment in our own departments; but we + do not remember to have seen the subject more felicitously handled than by our + friend: ‘The crying vice of the nation, and the one which of all others most + fastens the charge of inconsistency on our character and professions, is that + apish spirit with which we admire and copy every thing of European growth. While + we exalt our institutions, character and condition over those of all other + nations, and give ourselves ‘a name above every name,’ is it not supremely + absurd for city to vie with city and family with family in adopting the latest + fashions in dress and opinions originating in nations which have grown old in + profligacy, and abound in the worthless excrescences of society? We profess to + be perfectly independent of all control in our thoughts and actions: ‘<i>Nullius + addicti jurare in verba magistri</i>.’ Yet who more readily than we shout in chorus + to the newest modes of thinking ushered into ephemeral life by philosophers + across the water? Who adopt so early or carry so far the most outre and + preposterous styles of dress invented in Paris, as our American belles and + dandies? The newest cut in garments which was hatched in Paris beneath the + crescent-moon, her waning rays see carried to its utmost verge in our bustling + marts. We follow the revolutions in the configuration of coats, from square to + round, and from round to angular, with as scrupulous and painful a precision as + if our national honor depended on the issue. Nay, we are usually a little <em>too</em> + faithful, and fairly ‘out-Herod Herod.’ Does the cockney of the ‘world’s + metropolis’ compress his toes in boots tapering at an angle of forty degrees? + The republican fop promenades Broadway with <em>his</em> pedal extremities squeezed + into an angle of thirty; and the corns ensuing he bears with christian + fortitude; for does he not find his ‘exceeding great reward’ in being more + fashionable than the Londoner himself? Has the fat of the Siberian bear, or + ‘thine incomparable oil, Macassar’ called forth a thicket of hair on the cheek + of the Frenchman, reaching from the cerebral pulse to the submaxillary bone? + Instantly the pews of our churches, the boxes of our theatres, and the seats of + our legislative halls, are thronged with whey-faced apes, the moisture of whose + brains has exuded in nourishing a frowning hedge, of which the dark luxuriance + encircles the whole face, resembling the old pictures of the saints wherewith + our childhood was amused, encompassed with a glory! When the whiskered + ‘petit-mâitres’ of Hyde-Park shall begin to transport their adorable persons to + this new world on a summer’s trip, they will be astonished not a little to be + stared at on landing through opera-glasses by counterparts of themselves; exact + to the last hair of the moustache. ‘Werily,’ will be their ejaculation, ‘hit his + wery great presumption in these wulgar democrats to himitate us Henglish in this + way-ah!’ Every <span class="pagenum"><a id="page181" + name="page181"></a>181</span>easterly wind blows in a fleet laden with cargoes + of folly, and every outward-bound vessel bears an order for fresh importations + of absurdity, of which milliners and tailors are the shippers, and flirts and + fops the consignees. So far has this mimicking spirit proceeded, that we regard + neither climate nor season. Were some accident to delay for a few months our + advices from Europe, I question not but our fashionable ladies would adopt in + mid-winter the same form and materials for their dresses which the Parisian + damsels sported on the Boulevards beneath the scorching dog-star. The changeful + and chilly atmosphere of our sea-board differs widely from the genial airs of + ‘La belle France,’ and to adopt their fashions in detail is about as wise and + tasteful in us as it would be for the negro panting beneath the line to wrap + himself in the furs of Siberia, and substitute for his refreshing palm-juice the + usquebaugh of the Highlands. Who would not laugh himself into a pleurisy to see + the dandies of Timbuctoo stalking along in solemn gravity beneath their torrid + sun, encumbered with a Russian fur-cloak, or a Lapland ‘whip’ on a snow-sledge, + driving his canine four-in-hand, with a Turkish turban and Grecian robe folded + carelessly around him? Yet wherein do we greatly differ in <em>our</em> absurdities! + Again: we profess to have lopped from our democratic tree the old-world customs + of hereditary title and patrimonial honor. <em>We</em> are no respecters of persons. + <em>We</em> have no reverence for ancestral virtues, and the lustre that shines only by + reflection has no charms for <em>us</em>. <em>We</em> respect no grandees but ‘nature’s + noblemen.’ <em>We</em> look through the glittering atmosphere of place, and title, and + factitious distinction, at the man himself. The artificer of his own fortunes we + hail as a brother. He who possesses superior abilities or unblemished integrity, + <em>we</em> honor, though his hands be on the plough; and he who is imbecile or + dishonest, <em>we</em> despise, though his brow be encircled by a coronet. All noble, + consistent, rational, and right. But how is this? ‘Lo! a foreigner has landed on + our shores.’ Well; what then? We also should be foreigners in Europe. ‘Yes; but + he bears the honorable appendage of Lord, or Sir, or De, or Di, or Von, or Don.’ + Happy, meanwhile, thrice happy the youth whom his titleship will allow to treat + him; blessed, triumphantly blessed, the Miss whose charms have warmed into life + the cold gaze of my Lord Highbred, or Monsieur De Nonchalance. And oh! beatified + beyond all rapture the doting mother, who in her ripened and expanded miniature + begins to realize her dreams of ‘young romance,’ and to hope by connection with + a family more lineally descended from Adam than her own, to obtain a rank</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Whose glory with a lingering trace,</p> + <p>Shines through and deifies her race!’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Truth, every word truth—satire most justly bestowed; and before relinquishing + this general theme, let us ask the reader to admire with us the cognate remarks + of a writer in the last number of the ‘North-American Review’ upon the + importance of a <em>Literature</em> which shall be distinctive and national in its + character, and not a <i>rifacamento</i> of the varying literatures of various + nations: ‘The man whose heart is capable of any patriotic emotion, who feels his + pulse quicken when the idea of his country is brought home to him, must desire + that country to possess a voice more majestic than the roar of party, and more + potent than the whine of sects; a voice which should breathe energy and awaken + hope where-ever its kindling tones are heard. The life of our native land; the + inner spirit which animates its institutions; the new ideas and principles, of + which it is the representative; these every patriot must wish to behold + reflected from the broad mirror of a comprehensive and soul-animating + literature. The true vitality of a nation is not seen in the triumphs of its + industry, the extent of its conquests, or the reach of its empire; but in its + intellectual dominion. Posterity passes over statistical tables of trade and + population, to search for the records of the mind and heart. It is of little + moment how many millions of men were included at any time under the name of one + people, if they have left no intellectual testimonials of their mode and manner + of existence, no ‘foot-prints on the sands of time.’ The heart refuses to glow + at the most astounding array of figures. A nation lives only through its + literature, and its mental life is immortal. And if we have a literature, it + should be a <span class="pagenum"><a id="page182" + name="page182"></a>182</span><em>national</em> literature; no feeble or sonorous echo + of Germany or England, but essentially American in its tone and object. No + matter how meritorious a composition may be, as long as any foreign nation can + say that it has done the same thing better, so long shall we be spoken of with + contempt, or in a spirit of benevolent patronage. We begin to sicken of the + custom, now so common, of presenting even our best poems to the attention of + foreigners, with a deprecating, apologetic air; as if their acceptance of the + offering, with a few soft and silky compliments, would be an act of kindness + demanding our warmest acknowledgments. If the Quarterly Review or Blackwood’s + Magazine speaks well of an American production, we think that we can praise it + ourselves, without incurring the reproach of bad taste. The folly we yearly + practise, of flying into passion with some inferior English writer, who + caricatures our faults, and tells dull jokes about his tour through the land, + has only the effect to exalt an insignificant scribbler into notoriety, and give + a nominal value to his recorded impertinence. If the mind and heart of the + country had its due expression, if its life had taken form in a literature + worthy of itself, we should pay little regard to the childish tattling of a pert + coxcomb who was discontented with our taverns, or the execrations of some bluff + sea-captain who was shocked with our manners. The uneasy sense we have of + something in our national existence which has not yet been fitly expressed, + gives poignancy to the least ridicule launched at faults and follies which lie + on the superficies of our life. Every person feels, that a book which condemns + the country for its peculiarities of manners and customs, does not pierce into + the heart of the matter, and is essentially worthless. If Bishop <span + class="special_name">Berkeley</span>, when he visited <span + class="special_name">Malebranche</span>, had paid exclusive attention to the + habitation, raiment, and manners of the man, and neglected the conversation of + the metaphysician, and, when he returned to England, had entertained <span + class="special_name">Pope</span>, <span class="special_name">Swift</span>, <span + class="special_name">Gay</span>, and <span class="special_name">Arbuthnot</span> + with satirical descriptions of the ‘compliment extern’ of his eccentric host, he + would have acted just as wisely as many an English tourist, with whose malicious + pleasantry on our habits of chewing, spitting, and eating, we are silly enough + to quarrel. To the United States in reference to the pop-gun shots of foreign + tourists, might be addressed the warning which Peter Plymley thundered against + <span class="special_name">Bonaparte</span>, in reference to the Anti-Jacobin + jests of <span class="special_name">Canning</span>: Tremble, oh! thou land of + many spitters and voters, ‘for a <em>pleasant</em> man has come out against thee, and + thou shalt be laid low by a joker of jokes, and he shall talk his pleasant talk + to thee, and thou shalt be no more!’ In order that America may take its due rank + in the commonwealth of nations, a literature is needed which shall be the + exponent of its higher life. We live in times of turbulence and change. There is + a general dissatisfaction, manifesting itself often in rude contests and ruder + speech, with the gulf which separates principles from actions. Men are + struggling to realize dim ideals of right and truth, and each failure adds to + the desperate earnestness of their efforts. Beneath all the shrewdness and + selfishness of the American character, there is a smouldering enthusiasm which + flames out at the first touch of fire; sometimes at the hot and hasty words of + party, and sometimes at the bidding of great thoughts and unselfish principles. + The heart of the nation is easily stirred to its depths; but those who rouse its + fiery impulses into action are often men compounded of ignorance and wickedness, + and wholly unfitted to guide the passions which they are able to excite. We want + a poetry which shall speak in clear, loud tones to the people; a poetry which + shall make us more in love with our native land, by converting its ennobling + scenery into the images of lofty thoughts; which shall give visible form and + life to the abstract ideas of our written constitutions; which shall confer upon + virtue all the strength of principle and all the energy of passion; which shall + disentangle freedom from cant and senseless hyperbole, and render it a thing of + such loveliness and grandeur as to justify all self-sacrifice; which shall make + us love man by the new consecrations it sheds on his life and destiny; which + shall force through the thin partitions of conventialism and expediency; + vindicate the majesty of reason; give new power to the voice of conscience, and + new vitality to human affection; soften and elevate passion; guide enthusiasm in + a right direction; and speak out in the high language of men to a nation of + men.’</p> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page183" name="page183"></a>183</span><span + class="special_name">The North-American Review</span> for the January quarter is + one of the best issues of that ‘ancient and honorable’ Quarterly which we have + encountered for many months. It contains eight extended reviews, five brief + ‘Critical Notices,’ and the usual quarterly list of new publications. The first + article is upon the ‘<i>Poets and Poetry of America</i>,’ a work ‘which has travelled + through many States and four editions,’ and for the production of which Mr. + <span class="special_name">Griswold</span> is justly commended. In the progress + of this paper, the writer indulges in a sort of running commentary upon the more + conspicuous poets included in the compiler’s collection, as <span + class="special_name">Bryant</span>, <span class="special_name">Halleck</span>, + <span class="special_name">Sprague</span>, <span + class="special_name">Dana,</span> <span class="special_name">Percival</span>, <span + class="special_name">Longfellow</span>, <span class="special_name">Willis + Gaylord Clark</span>, <span class="special_name">Holmes</span>, <span + class="special_name">Whittier</span>, etc., etc. Of <span + class="special_name">Bryant</span> the reviewer among other things remarks:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + <p>‘<span class="special_name">Mr. Griswold</span> says finely of <span + class="special_name">Bryant</span>, that ‘he is the translator of the + silent language of nature to the world.’ The serene beauty and thoughtful + tenderness, which characterize his descriptions, or rather interpretations of + outward objects, are paralleled only in <span + class="special_name">Wordsworth</span>. His poems are almost perfect of their + kind. The fruits of meditation, rather than of passion or imagination, and + rarely startling with an unexpected image or sudden outbreak of feeling, they + are admirable specimens of what may be called the philosophy of the soul. They + address the finer instincts of our nature with a voice so winning and gentle; + they search out with such subtle power all in the heart which is true and good; + that their influence, though quiet, is resistless. They have consecrated to many + minds things which before it was painful to contemplate. Who can say that his + feelings and fears respecting death have not received an insensible change, + since reading the ‘Thanatopsis?’ Indeed, we think that <span + class="special_name">Bryant’s</span> poems are valuable, not only for + their intrinsic excellence, but for the vast influence their wide circulation is + calculated to exercise on national feelings and manners. It is impossible to + read them without being morally benefitted. They purify as well as please. They + develope or encourage all the elevated and thoughtful tendencies of the + mind.’</p> + </div> + + <p>We are glad to see the reproof which the reviewer bestows upon those critics of + <span class="special_name">Longfellow’s</span> poetry, who to escape the trouble + of analysis, offer some smooth eulogium upon his ‘taste,’ or some lip-homage to + his ‘artistical ability,’ instead of noting the tendency of his writings to + touch the heroic strings in our nature, to breathe energy into the heart, to + sustain our lagging purposes, and fix our thoughts on what is stable and + eternal. The following is eminently just:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">The</span> great characteristic of <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>, that + of addressing the moral nature through the imagination, of linking moral truth + to intellectual beauty, is a far greater excellence. His artistical ability is + admirable, because it is not seen. It is rather mental than mechanical. The best + artist is he who accommodates his diction to his subject. In this sense, <span + class="special_name">Longfellow</span> is an artist. By learning ‘to labor and + to wait,’ by steadily brooding over the chaos in which thought and emotion first + appear to the mind, and giving shape and life to both, before uttering them in + words, he has obtained a singular mastery over expression. By this we do not + mean that he has a large command of language. No fallacy is greater than that + which confounds fluency with expression. Washerwomen, and boys at debating + clubs, often display more fluency than <span + class="special_name">Webster</span>; but his words are to theirs, as the roll of + thunder to the patter of rain. Language often receives its significance and + power from the person who uses it. Unless permeated by the higher faculties of + the mind, unless it be not the clothing, but the ‘incarnation of thought,’ it is + quite an humble power. There are some writers who repose undoubting confidence + in words. If their minds be filled with the epithets of poetry, they fondly deem + that they have clutched its essence. In a piece of inferior verse, we often + observe a great array of expressions which have been employed with great effect + by genius, but which seem to burn the fingers and disconcert the equanimity of + the aspiring word-catcher who presses them into his service. Felicity, not + fluency, of language is a merit.’</p> + </div> + + <p>Exactly; yet these same ‘fluent’ versifiers are the persons who talk with + elaborate flippancy of the ‘simple common-places’ of this noble poet! The + reviewer adds: ‘<span class="special_name">Longfellow</span> has a perfect + command of that expression which results from restraining rather than + cultivating fluency; and his manner is adapted to his theme. He rarely, if ever, + mistakes ‘emotions for conceptions.’ His words are often pictures of his + thought. He selects with great delicacy and precision the exact phrase which + best expresses or suggests his idea. He colors his style with the skill of a + painter. The warm flush and bright tints, as well as the most evanescent hues of + language, he uses with admirable discretion. In that higher department of his + art, that of so combining his words and images that they make music to the soul + as well as to the ear, and convey not only his feelings and thoughts, but also + the very tone and condition of the soul in which they have being, he likewise + excels.’ The reviewer <span class="pagenum"><a id="page184" + name="page184"></a>184</span>illustrates these remarks, by citing the ‘Psalms of + Life,’ the ‘Saga of the Skeleton in Armor,’ ‘The Village Blacksmith,’ etc., + which were written by Mr. <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span> for the + pages of this Magazine, and adds, that our poet indulges in no ‘wild struggles + after an ineffable Something, for which earth can afford but imperfect symbols. + He appears perfectly satisfied with his work. Like his own ‘Village Blacksmith,’ + he retires every night with the feeling that something has been attempted, and + something <em>done</em>.’ There is a subtle analysis of the style of that first of + comic poets, <span class="special_name">Holmes</span>, for which we shall + endeavor to find space hereafter. Of the writings of the late lamented <span + class="special_name">Willis Gaylord Clark</span>, the reviewer remarks, that + they ‘are all distinguished for a graceful and elegant diction, thoughts morally + and poetically beautiful, and chaste and appropriate imagery. They exhibit much + purity and strength of feeling, are replete with fancy and sentiment, and have + often a searching pathos and a mournful beauty, which find their way quietly to + the heart.’ The poetry of our friend and correspondent <span + class="special_name">Whittier</span> is warmly commended: ‘A common thought + comes from his pen ‘rammed with life.’ He seems in some of his lyrics to pour + out his blood with his lines. There is a rush of passion in his verse, which + sweeps every thing along with it.’ The remaining references are to the + lady-poets, Mesdames <span class="first_word">Brooks</span>, <span class="first_word">Child</span>, <span class="first_word">Sigourney</span>, <span class="first_word">Smith</span>, <span class="first_word">Welby</span>, <span class="first_word">Hall</span>, <span class="first_word">Ellet</span>, + <span class="first_word">Dinnie</span>, <span class="first_word">Embury</span>, <span class="first_word">Hooper</span>, the <span class="first_word">Davidsons</span>, etc. The whole article is well + considered; and we cordially commend it to the attention of our readers. The + remaining papers are upon <span class="special_name">Palfrey’s</span> admirable + ‘Lectures on the Evidences of Christianity,’ ‘Trade with the Hanse-Towns, the + German Tariff-League;’ ‘<span class="special_name">Gervinus’s</span> History of + German Poetry;’ ‘Debts of the States,’ an excellent and most timely article;’ + ‘<span class="special_name">Prescott’s</span> History of Mexico;’ ‘<span + class="special_name">Sam Slick</span> in England;’ and a valuable dissertation + on Libraries, based upon the catalogue of the library of Brown University.</p> + </div> + <div class="ed_table_item"> + + <p><span class="ed_table_title">Joseph C. Neal’s ‘Charcoal Sketches.’</span>—Right glad are we to welcome from the + teeming press of Messrs. <span class="special_name">Burgess and Stringer</span> a new edition of these most humorous + and witty sketches, illustrated with engravings by <span class="special_name">D. C. Johnston</span>, of Boston. We have + re-perused them with renewed delight, and awakened again the echoes of our silent sanctum, + in the excess of our cachinnatory enjoyment. Our friend <span class="special_name">Morton M‘Michael</span>, in + the ‘advance <span class="special_name">Graham</span>’ for February, (which by the way contains a breathing likeness of + the sketcher,) has the following remarks upon the papers composing the volume before us, + which we most cordially endorse: ‘No one, who has his faculties in a healthy condition, + can read them and not feel convinced that they are the productions of a superior and highly + gifted mind. They not only smack strongly of what all true men love, genuine humor; + rich, racy, glorious humor; at which you may indulge in an honest outbreak of laughter, + and not feel ashamed afterward because you have thrown away good mirth on a pitiful + jest; but when you have laughed your fill, if you choose to look beneath the surface, which + sparkles and bubbles with brilliant fancies, you will find an under current of truthful observation, + abundant in matter for sober thought in your graver moments. In all of them, + light and trifling as they seem, and pleasant as they unquestionably are, there is a deep + and solemn moral. The follies and vices which, in weak natures, soon grow into crimes, + are here presented in such a way as to forewarn those who are about to yield to temptation, + not by dull monitions and unregarded homilies, but by making the actors themselves unconscious + protestants against their own misdoings. And to do this well requires a combination + of abilities such as few possess. There must be the quick eye to perceive, the nice + judgment to discriminate, the active memory to retain, the vigorous pen to depict, and + above all, the soul, the mind, the genius, call it what you will, to infuse into the whole life + and spirit and power. Now, all these qualities Neal has in an eminent degree, and he + applies them with the skill of an accomplished artist. What he does he does thoroughly, + perfectly. His portraits, which he modestly calls sketches, are unmistakeable. The very + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page185" name="page185"></a>185</span>men he wishes to portray are before you, and they are not only limned to the outward eye, + but they speak also to the outward ear, and in sentences thickly clustered with the drollest + conceits, they convey lessons of practical philosophy, and make revelations of the strange + perversities of our inward nature, from which even the wise may gather profitable conclusions.’ + Our friend speaks of Mr. <span class="special_name">Neal’s</span> being ‘comparatively little known.’ We + have good reason to believe that one great cause of this is, that his name has often been + confounded with that of another and altogether different species of <span class="special_name">Neal</span>, whose infinite + twattle—infinite alike in degree and quantity—has prejudiced the public mind against + any thing that may seem to come in ‘questionable shape’ from a questionable source. This + error has had its advantages to <em>one</em> party, no doubt, since there was ‘every thing to gain + and nothing to lose;’ an advantage however which the prefix of the first two initials of + our friend and correspondent to passages from his work which may hereafter find their way + into the newspapers, will transfer to the rightful recipient. But to the volume in question, + from which we are about to make a few random selections, illustrating the characters of + sundry ‘city worthies,’ who are ‘comprehended as vagrom men’ by the ‘charleys’ or + watchmen of the good City of Brotherly Love. Let us begin with the soliloquy of the + poetical <span class="special_name">Olympus Pump</span>:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘‘<span class="first_word">Genius</span> never feels its oats until after + sunset; twilight applies the spanner to the fire-plug of fancy to give its + bubbling fountains way; and midnight lifts the sluices for the cataracts of the + heart, and cries, ‘Pass on the water!’ Yes, and economically considered, night + is this world’s Spanish cloak; for no matter how dilapidated or festooned one’s + apparel may be, the loops and windows cannot be discovered, and we look as + elegant and as beautiful as get out. Ah!’ continued Pump, as he gracefully + reclined upon the stall, ‘it’s really astonishing how rich I am in the idea line + to-night. But it’s no use. I’ve got no pencil—not even a piece of chalk to + write ’em on my hat for my next poem. It’s a great pity ideas are so much of the + soap-bubble order, that you can’t tie ’em up in a pocket handkerchief, like a + half peck of potatoes, or string ’em on a stick like catfish. I often have the + most beautiful notions scampering through my head with the grace, but alas! the + swiftness too, of kittens, especially just before I get asleep; but they’re all + lost for the want of a trap; an intellectual figgery four. I wish we could find + out the way of sprinkling salt on their tails, and make ’em wait till we want to + use ’em. Why can’t some of the meaner souls invent an idea-catcher for the use + of genius? I’m sure they’d find it profitable, for I wouldn’t mind owing a man + twenty dollars for one myself.’</p> + + + </div> + + <p>Mr. <span class="special_name">Fydget Fyxington</span> is another worthy, who + reverts continually to ‘first principles,’ and is full of schemes and projects, + especially when he chances to have ‘a stone in his hat.’ Hear him:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘‘<span class="first_word">Nothin’s</span> fixed no how; our grand-dads must a + been lazy rascals. Why didn’t they roof over the side-walks, and not leave every + thing for us to do? I ain’t got no numbrell, and besides that, when it comes + down as if raining was no name for it, as it always does when I’m cotch’d out, + numbrells is no great shakes if you’ve got one with you, and no shakes at all if + it’s at home. It’s a pity we ain’t got feathers, so’s to grow our own jacket and + trowsers, and do up the tailorin’ business, and make our own feather beds. It + would be a great savin’; every man his own clothes, and every man his own + feather bed. Now I’ve got a suggestion about that; first principles bring us to + the skin; fortify that, and the matter’s done. How would it do to bile a big + kittle full of tar, tallow, beeswax and injen rubber, with considerable wool, + and dab the whole family once a week? The young’uns might be soused in it every + Saturday night, and the nigger might fix the elderly folks with a whitewash + brush. Then there wouldn’t be no bother a washing your clothes or yourself, + which last is an invention of the doctor to make people sick, because it lets in + the cold in winter and the heat in summer, when natur’ says shut up the porouses + and keep ’em out. Besides, when the new invention was tore at the knees or wore + at the elbows, just tell the nigger to put on the kittle and give you a dab, and + you’re patched slick; and so that whole mobs of people mightn’t stick together + like figs, a little sperrits of turpentine or litharage might be added to make + ’em dry like a house-a-fire. ’Twould be nice for sojers. Stand ’em all of a + row, and whitewash ’em blue or red, according to pattern, as if they were a + fence. The gin’rals might look on to see if it was done according to Gunter; the + cap’ins might flourish the brush, and the corpulars carry the bucket. Dandies + could fix themselves all sorts of streaked and all sorts of colors. When the + parterials is cheap and the making don’t cost nothing, that’s what I call + economy, and coming as near as possible to first principles. It’s a better way, + too, of keeping out the rain, than my t’other plan of flogging people when + they’re young, to make their hides hard and water-proof. A good licking is a + sound first principle for juveniles, but they’ve got a prejudice agin it.’</p> + + </div> + + <p>‘A pair of Slippers’ brings us acquainted with another original personage, who + one dark night soliloquizes on this wise:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘‘<span class="first_word">I’ve</span> not the slightest doubt that this is as + beautiful a night as ever was; only it’s so dark you can’t see the pattern of + it. One night is pretty much like another night in the dark; but it’s a great + advantage to a good-looking evening, if the lamps are lit, so you can twig the + stars and the moonshine. <span class="pagenum"><a id="page186" + name="page186"></a>186</span>The fact is, that in this ‘ere city, we do grow the + blackest moons, and the hardest moons to find, I ever did see. Lamps is lamps, + and moons is moons, in a business pint of view, but practically they ain’t much + if the wicks ain’t afire. When the luminaries are, as I may say, in the raw, + it’s bad for me. I can’t see the ground as perforately as little fellers, and + every dark night I’m sure to get a hyst; either a forrerd hyst, or a backerd + hyst, or some sort of a hyst; but more backerds than forrerds, ‘specially in + winter. One of the most unfeeling tricks I know of, is the way some folks have + got of laughing out, yaw-haw! when they see a gentleman ketching a reg’lar hyst; + a long gentleman, for instance, with his legs in the air, and his noddle splat + down upon the cold bricks. A hyst of itself is bad enough, without being + sniggered at: first, your sconce gets a crack; then, you see all sorts of stars, + and have free admission to the fire-works; then, you scramble up, feeling as if + you had no head on your shoulders, and as if it wasn’t you, but some confounded + disagreeable feller in your clothes; yet the jacksnipes all grin, as if the + misfortunes of human nature was only a poppet show. I wouldn’t mind it, if you + could get up and look as if you didn’t care. But a man can’t rise, after a royal + hyst, without letting on he feels flat. In such cases, however, sympathy is all + gammon; and as for sensibility of a winter’s day, people keep it all for their + own noses, and can’t be coaxed to retail it by the small.’</p> + + </div> + + <p>‘<span class="special_name">Dilly Jones</span>’ is one of those unfortunate + wights ‘just whose luck’ it is never to succeed in any thing they undertake. In + a state of ‘mellow’ mental abstraction, while lamenting that the trade of one’s + early days might not likewise be the trade of one’s latter years, he + unconsciously utters his thoughts aloud:</p> + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘‘<span class="first_word">Sawing</span> wood’s going all to smash,’ said he, + ‘and that’s where every thing goes what I speculates in. This here coal is doing + us up. Ever since these black stones was brought to town, the wood-sawyers and + pilers, and them soap-fat and hickory-ashes men, has been going down; and, for + my part, I can’t say as I see what’s to be the end of all their new-fangled + contraptions. But it’s always so; I’m always crawling out of the little end of + the horn. I began life in a comfortable sort of a way; selling oysters out of a + wheel-barrow, all clear grit, and didn’t owe nobody nothing. Oysters went down + slick enough for a while, but at last cellars was invented, and darn the oyster, + no matter how nice it was pickled, could poor Dill sell; so I had to eat up + capital and profits myself. Then the ‘pepree-pot smoking’ was sot up, and went + ahead pretty considerable for a time; but a parcel of fellers come into it, said + my cats wasn’t as good as their’n, when I know’d they was as fresh as any cats + in the market; and pepree-pot was no go. Bean-soup was just as bad; people said + kittens wasn’t good done that way, and the more I hollered, the more the + customers wouldn’t come, and them what did, wanted tick. Along with the boys and + their pewter fips, them what got trust and didn’t pay, and the abusing of my + goods, I was soon fotch’d up in the victualling line—and I busted for the + benefit of my creditors. But genius riz. I made a raise of a horse and saw, + after being a wood-piler’s prentice for a while, and working till I was free, + and now here comes the coal to knock this business in the head.’ · · · ‘I wonder + if they wouldn’t list me for a Charley? Hollering oysters and bean-soup has guv’ + me a splendid woice; and instead of skeering ’em away, if the thieves were to + hear me singing out, my style of doing it would almost coax ’em to come and be + took up. They’d feel like a bird when a snake is after it, and would walk up, + and poke their coat collars right into my fist. Then, after a while, I’d perhaps + be promoted to the fancy business of pig ketching, which, though it is werry + light and werry elegant, requires genus. ’Tisn’t every man that can come the + scientifics in that line, and has studied the nature of a pig, so as to beat him + at canœuvering, and make him surrender ‘cause he sees it ain’t no use of doing + nothing. It wants larning to conwince them critters, and it’s only to be done by + heading ’em up handsome, hopping which ever way they hop, and tripping ’em up + genteel by shaking hands with their off hind leg. I’d scorn to pull their tails + out by the roots, or to hurt their feelin’s by dragging ’em about by the ears. + But what’s the use? If I was listed, they’d soon find out to holler the hour and + to ketch the thieves by steam; yes, and they’d take ’em to court on a railroad, + and try ’em with biling water. They’ll soon have black locomotives for watchmen + and constables, and big bilers for judges and mayors. Pigs will be ketched by + steam, and will be biled fit to eat before they are done squealing. By and by, + folks won’t be of no use at all. There won’t be no people in the world but + tea-kittles; no mouths, but safety-valves; and no talking, but blowing off + steam. If I had a little biler inside of me, I’d turn omnibus, and week-days I’d + run from Kensington to the Navy Yard, and Sundays I’d run to Fairmount.’’</p> + + </div> + + <p>There is a world of wisdom in the syllabus, or ‘argument,’ prefixed to each + sketch; but for these we must refer the reader to the volume itself. The <span + class="special_name">Dogberrys</span> too are as wise as their ‘illustrious + predecessor,’ and are quite as profuse of advice to ‘the plaintiffs’ who fall + into their hands. Take a single specimen: ‘Take keer—don’t persume; I’m a + ‘fishal functionary out a-ketching of dogs. You mustn’t cut up because it’s + night. The mayor and the ‘squires has gone to bed; but the law is a thing that + never gets asleep. After ten o’clock the law is a watchman and a dog-ketcher; + we’re the whole law till breakfast’s a’most ready.’ ‘You’re a clever enough kind + of little feller, sonny; but you ain’t been eddicated to the law as I have; so + I’ll give you a lecture. Justice vinks at vot it can’t see, and lets them off + vot it can’t ketch. When you want to break it, you must dodge. You may do what + you like in your own house, and the law don’t know nothing about the matter. But + never go thumping and bumping about the streets, when you are primed and + snapped. That’s intemperance, and the other is temperance. But now you <span + class="pagenum"><a id="page187" name="page187"></a>187</span>come under the + muzzle of the ordinance; you’re a loafer.’ One of these ‘‘fishal functionaries’ + justifies extreme physical means in ‘captivating obstropolous vagroms’ both by + reason and distinguished precedent: ‘Wolloping is the only way; it’s a panacea + for differences of opinion. You’ll find it in history books, that one nation + teaches another what it didn’t know before by wolloping it; that’s the method of + civilizing savages; the Romans put the whole world to rights that way; and + what’s right on the big figger must be right on the small scale. In short, + there’s nothing like wolloping for taking the conceit out of fellows who think + they know more than their betters.’ ‘And so forth, et cetera,’ as may be + ascertained on a perusal of the volume.</p> + + </div> + <div class="ed_table_item"> + + <p><span class="ed_table_title">Life and Times of the late William Abbott: Third + Notice.</span>—This most entertaining manuscript-volume, from which we have + already drawn so largely for the entertainment of our readers, has not been + published in America, as it was designed to have been, owing partly as we learn + to the fact that, through ‘something like unfair dealing’ toward the widow of + the writer, a copy of half the volume had been transmitted to England, parts of + which have already reached this country in the pages of a London magazine. We + had the pleasure to anticipate by a month or two the best portions even of these + printed chapters; and we proceed to select passages from other divisions of this + interesting auto-biography, which were written out after a duplicate copy of the + earlier chapters had been transmitted to the London publisher. Mr. <span + class="special_name">Abbott</span> (aside from the society to which he had the + entrée on account of his professional merits,) was a personal favorite with many + of the most eminent personages among the English nobility, with whom he was on + terms of close intimacy; but we never find him illustrating his own importance + by the narration of the social anecdotes or careless table-talk of his + distinguished friends, as too many of his contemporaries have done. He was + honored with the cordial friendship of the <span class="special_name">Earls + Glengall</span> and <span class="special_name">Fitzharding</span>; and ‘at their + tables,’ he writes, ‘I was a frequent guest, where I constantly met with society + embracing the highest rank and most distinguished talent in England. I refrain, + from obvious reasons, from mentioning names; but I may say that if there was + ever a class of persons who confer honor upon the society in which they mingle, + it is <em>the Aristocracy of Great-Britain</em>. There is a delicacy and forbearance in + their manner, and that air of perfect equality which is so indicative of the + accomplished gentleman and scholar. <span class="special_name">Colman</span> was + a very frequent guest at these dinners, and was, with the exception perhaps of + <span class="special_name">Lord Alvanley</span>, one of the most brilliant + diners-out in London.’ This testimony, let us remark in passing, in favor of the + ease and simplicity of the really high-born gentlemen of England, is confirmed + by all Americans who have been well received in English society. The reader will + especially remember the tribute paid on this point by Mr. <span + class="special_name">Sanderson</span>, the accomplished ‘American in Paris,’ in + his ‘Familiar Letters from London,’ in these pages. But we are standing before + Mr. <span class="special_name">Abbott</span>. In Edinburgh ‘there lies the + scene:’</p> + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">I again</span> visited Edinburgh at the close of the + Covent-Garden season, and received the same undiminished hospitality as on a + former occasion. I established an intimacy with the <span + class="special_name">Ballantines</span> of celebrated <span + class="special_name">Scott</span> memory. <span + class="special_name">Matthews</span> was indebted to <span + class="special_name">John Ballantine</span> for his famous old Scotch woman, and + he certainly rivalled his preceptor in the quaint and dry humor with which he + narrated that most amusing story. The management of the Edinburgh Theatre rested + in the hands of Mr. <span class="special_name">Murray</span>. He was the only + son of the <span class="special_name">Murray</span> formerly of Covent-Garden + Theatre, who was one of the most chaste and impressive actors I ever saw. His + Adam, in ‘As you Like it,’ was really the perfection of the art. Mrs. <span + class="special_name">Henry Siddons</span>, in whom the property was vested at + the death of her husband, was, fortunately for me, residing with her charming + family in Edinburgh, and I was a constant guest at her table. Her manners were + fascinating in the extreme, and a greater compliment could not well be paid than + in having the entrée to a family so intellectual in their resources, and so + perfectly amiable in disposition. A very amusing and agreeable club was got up + by a party of young <span class="pagenum"><a id="page188" + name="page188"></a>188</span>advocates. Delightful it was, from its very + absurdity; in fact the nonsense of men of sense is an admirable couch to repose + upon. Our numbers were limited, and embraced some of that powerful intellect + which the modern Athens possesses in so eminent degree. Mr. <span + class="special_name">Miles Angus Fletcher</span>, Mr. <span + class="special_name">Anderson</span>, Sir <span class="special_name">William + Hamilton</span>, and a son of the late and brother of the present Lord <span + class="special_name">Meadowbank</span>, were among those I knew intimately, and + whose varied talents gave life and soul to the society. We scorned the + artificial light that illumined our midnight orgies, and seldom separated before + the beams of the sun were dancing in our festive cups.’</p> + + </div> + + + <p>The following account of the first <i>Theatrical Fund Dinner</i>, an entertainment of + which we hear so much latterly in England, with the defence of actors against + the charges of extravagance and improvidence so often brought against them, will + possess interest for American readers:</p> + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">The</span> Covent-Garden Theatrical Fund about this + period was languishing for want of support; and the great importance to be + derived from an increase of its means seriously occupied the attention of the + committee. We naturally looked upon it as affording an opportunity of increasing + the respectability of the profession, and the means of preventing those + individual appeals to the public from our impoverished brethren. There is a + popular delusion that actors form a class in which the most reckless profusion + is displayed; that the habits of their lives are necessarily dissipated, and + that in the enjoyments of the luxuries of to-day, the wants and cares of + to-morrow are entirely lost sight of. I do not believe in these sweeping + assertions. I will not pretend to say that actors are exempt from the frailties + of humanity; nay, I will admit that their course of life perhaps exposes them to + greater temptations; but this fact ought rather to operate in their favor, than + to tell so powerfully against them. I would ask those persons who are so + inimical to the profession of an actor, whether longevity is the result of + dissipation; and if they will take the trouble of examining, they will find that + actors in general are extremely long-lived. There is a want of thriftiness in + their composition, I grant; and fortunately for them the same charge is brought + against the poet; the man whose high intellectual powers prevent his descending + to the level of this work-day world. But will any one take the trouble of + explaining from whence the actor is to derive his wealth? We will imagine that + his salary is respectable, that it is regularly paid, and that there is no + excuse for his being in debt. And now take into consideration that he has an + appearance to maintain; that he has a family to support; and then what becomes + of the opportunity of laying by a modicum even, to guard against the decline of + life when the ‘winter daisies’ shall crown his head, and a new race of + performers have started up and driven the others from their posts? We have some + rare instances of very large fortunes being made and retained by members of the + profession it is true, but they were instances of dazzling genius, or had the + world’s belief that they possessed it. I will take names within the memory of us + all: Mrs. <span class="special_name">Siddons</span>, Mr. <span + class="special_name">Kemble</span>, Miss <span + class="special_name">O’Neil</span>, the ‘Young Roscius,’ and the late Mr. <span + class="special_name">Lewis</span>; and I will add to that list men of + accomplished talents and great honor to the profession; <span + class="special_name">Young</span>, <span class="special_name">Bannister</span>, + <span class="special_name">Munden</span>, <span + class="special_name">Braham</span>, <span class="special_name">Wroughton</span>, + <span class="special_name">Liston</span>, <span + class="special_name">Harley</span>, <span class="special_name">Johnstone</span>, + <span class="special_name">Power</span>, <span + class="special_name">Jones</span>; and I am sure the reader will believe me when + I state, that I heartily wish I could place my own name in the list. Take the + members of any other profession, however honorable, limit their numbers and + means to the same proportion, and I ask if you would be enabled to produce a + greater list of independent persons. The great advantages to be derived from a + Theatrical Fund are here I trust made apparent; and after many suggestions, I + believe it fell to the lot of <span class="special_name">Charles Taylor</span> + to propose an annual public dinner; and it proved a most fortunate idea. The + first great point to be obtained was a patron, and then a president for the + dinner. Our application met with immediate success, and His Royal Highness the + <span class="special_name">Prince Regent</span> condescendingly gave his name at + the head of our undertaking, accompanied by a solid mark of his favor in the + donation of one hundred pounds. We then had the gracious consent of the <span + class="special_name">Duke of York</span> to be our President, aided by his Royal + brothers <span class="special_name">Kent</span> and <span + class="special_name">Sussex</span>. The list of vice-presidents embraced many of + the most distinguished noblemen and gentlemen in the country. In what an amiable + point of view do the Royal Princes place themselves before the public in so + thoroughly identifying themselves with the many interesting charities to which + London gives birth! The grateful spirit of joyousness which they invariably + displayed on these occasions, gave an interest to the festive scenes, and + confirmed many a heart in its loyalty to their illustrious house. The late <span + class="special_name">Duke of Gordon</span> sat on the right hand of the Royal + President, and favored the company with a song, which greatly surprised them, + and elicited a general encore, and with which, with great good humor, he + immediately complied. <span class="special_name">Matthews</span> always held a + conspicuous position at these dinners, and made a point of giving an original + song, selected from his forth-coming entertainment. The <span class="pagenum"><a + id="page189" name="page189"></a>189</span>amount collected at our first dinner + was extraordinary; no less a sum than one thousand eight hundred and seventy + pounds. The Drury-Lane Fund in the following year adapted our plan of the + dinner, and both these institutions now annually derive a very large sum from + the volunteer subscriptions of the Friends of the Drama. The same Royal + patronage is most graciously continued by her present Majesty, and Royalty + continues to preside at the festival. With this accumulation of patronage the + actor may fearlessly look forward to the close of his mortal career without the + dread of eleemosynary contributions, and also feel the proud gratification that + he has personally contributed to support so interesting a Fund.’</p> + + </div> + + + <p>As a specimen of Mr. <span class="special_name">Abbott’s’</span> stock-breaking + and gambling experiences, we quote the subjoined passages:</p> + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">A friend</span> of mine connected with the Stock Exchange on one occasion pointed out + to me the great advantage of occasionally purchasing five thousand consuls on + time, knowing that I had capital unemployed; the certain profits were placed + before me in such an agreeable point of view, that I could not resist the bait. + In the course of two days I received a check for fifty pounds, a sum by no means + unpleasant, considering that I had not advanced one farthing. The natural + consequence was that I repeated the dose with various success until I was + ultimately well plucked. I sustained a loss of one thousand pounds. I then began + to be very uneasy, until I fortunately discovered that by one <i>coup</i> I had made + two hundred pounds. My broker had waddled of course, without being able to make + up his differences. The parties of whom I had purchased, through my agent, + refused to pay me, as they had no knowledge of a third person, and were + themselves considerable sufferers by the aforesaid broker. I could not + understand the justice of this measure, for I had always paid my losses to the + moment; so I walked to Temple-Bar, pulled off my hat most gracefully to that + venerable arch, and vowed never again to pass it in the pursuit of ill-gotten + wealth. I had always a perfect horror of <em>gambling</em>, and little imagined I was + pursuing it in a wholesale manner. To satisfy my inordinate curiosity, for + sight-seeing, I have twice or thrice in my life passed the threshhold of a + gambling-house in London, but never felt the least personal desire to embark the + smallest sum, although keenly alive to the dangerous excitement in others. On + one of these occasions it fell to my lot to witness a most affecting and trying + scene. The names of the parties came to my knowledge afterward, which from + delicacy I of course suppress. A gentleman had for some years been separated + from his wife, in consequence of infidelity on her part with a man of high + fashion, an officer of the Guards. An action and divorce ensued; but two + children whom he had previous to this unfortunate event, he refused to + acknowledge, thus endeavoring to put the stain of illegitimacy upon them. Years + rolled on, and the father and son never met. Rouge-et-Noir was the fashionable + game of the day, and Pall-Mall and St. James-street swarmed with + gambling-houses. Two gentlemen were quarrelling upon a point, each accusing the + other of taking the stake. The younger man was the officer on guard that day, + and consequently in uniform. High words ensued; cards were exchanged; and in one + moment, from the most ungovernable rage, they became motionless as statues. The + silence was at length interrupted by an explanation of ‘By Heaven! my son!’ This + remark was made from the impulse of the moment, and probably struck a chord in + the parent’s heart that let loose all his affections. They retired to another + apartment; explanations ensued; and a reconciliation was the result.’</p> + + + </div> + + + <p>Elsewhere Mr. <span class="special_name">Abbott</span> describes the + gambling-houses of Paris, ‘those dens of iniquity,’ as he terms them. ‘The + varied scenes of frantic joy and human debasement,’ he writes, ‘which I + witnessed at <span class="special_name">Frascati’s</span>, were truly appalling. + The extremes of excitement were as powerfully exhibited in the loser of twenty + francs as in the man who had lost his twenty thousand.’ The annexed sketch of + the lamented career of poor <span class="special_name">Conway</span>, who will + be ‘freshly remembered’ by many of our readers in the Atlantic cities, is + authentic in every particular. It is not without its lesson, in more regards + than one:</p> + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">I find</span> I have neglected to mention an actor, who stood sufficiently forward, + both by his position and his misfortunes, to be entitled to a respectful notice; + I mean Mr. <span class="special_name">Conway</span>. He was said to be the + illegitimate offspring of a distinguished nobleman; but whether his own pride + prevented his making advances, and he was resolved to lay the foundation of his + own fame and fortune, or whether he met with a check upon his natural feelings + from one who was bound to support him, I know not; but, gifted as he was with a + commanding person, a most gentlemanlike deportment, and advantages peculiarly + adapted for the stage, it is no wonder that the histrionic art held forth + inducements and <span class="pagenum"><a id="page190" + name="page190"></a>190</span>hopes of obtaining a brighter position than any + other career open to him, without the aid of pecuniary means, and the patronage + which was withheld from him. He made his appearance in 1813, the season previous + to <span class="special_name">Kean</span>, in the character of ‘Alexander the + Great.’ He met with a very flattering reception, and produced a great effect + upon the fair sex. Indeed, the actors, who are upon these occasions lynx-eyed, + could not avoid their remarks upon a certain Duchess, who never missed one of + his performances, and appeared to take the deepest interest in his success. + <span class="special_name">Conway</span> was upward of six feet in height. He + was deficient in strong intellectual expression, yet he had the reputation of + being very handsome. His head was too small for his frame, and his complexion + too light and sanguine for the profound and varied emotions of deep tragedy. + There was a tinge of affectation in his deportment, which had the effect of + creating among many a strong feeling of prejudice against him. His bearing was + always gentlemanly, and with the exception of a slight superciliousness of + manner, amiable to every body; and his talent, though not of the highest order, + was still sufficiently prominent to enable him to maintain a distinguished + position. And yet this man, with so little to justify spleen, was literally, + from an unaccountable prejudice, driven from the stage by one of the leading + weekly journals, edited by a gentleman whose biting satire was death to those + who had the misfortune to come under his lash. In complete disgust, he retired + from the boards, and filled the humble situation of prompter at the + Haymarket-Theatre, but afterward left for the United States, where he became a + great favorite. But the canker was at his heart. He again quitted the stage, and + prepared himself for the Church; but there again he was foiled. The ministers of + our holy religion refused to receive him, not from any moral stain upon his + character, but because he had been an actor! What is to become of the + priesthood, who in the early periods were the only actors, and selected + scriptural subjects for representation? He left in a packet for Savannah, + overwhelmed with misery and disappointment. ‘Ushered into the world by a parent + who would not acknowledge him; driven out of it in the belief that he was the + proscribed of Heaven!’ At the moment they were passing the bar at Charleston, he + threw himself overboard. Efforts were made to save him; a settee was thrown over + for him to cling to until they could adopt more decisive measures for his + rescue. He saw the object; but his resolution was taken. He waved his hand, and + sunk to rise no more. I have reason to believe, that the gentleman to whom I + have alluded as having made such fearful use of his editorial powers, felt deep + remorse when the news of his ill-timed death arrived. He also is now no more! + Poor <span class="special_name">Conway</span>! Had he possessed more nerve, he + might still have triumphed over the unkindness of his fate:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Who has not known ill fortune, never knew</p> + <p>Himself or his own virtue.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + </div> + + + <p>In the same chapter we find a bit of artistical grouping in a historical + picture, which the reader will agree with us is well worthy of preservation:</p> + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">The</span> world never witnessed such powerful scenes of exciting interest as took + possession of Great Britain about this period. The people were drunk with + enthusiasm. One victory followed so rapidly on the heels of another, that they + had not time to sober down. The peninsular campaign had closed, and the hitherto + sacred soil of France was invaded. The restoration of legitimacy, and the + momentary enthusiasm of the French in favor of their exiled monarch, disturbed + the intellects of half mankind. The magnificent entrée of <span + class="special_name">Louis</span> the Eighteenth into London from Heartwell + Park, where he had resided for some years, almost conveyed the idea that it was + his own capital he was entering, after his long and weary exile. The silken + banner with the <i>fleur de lis</i> flaunting from the walls of Devonshire-House and + all the neighboring mansions in Piccadilly; immense cavalcades of gentlemen + superbly mounted, all wearing the white cockade; the affectionate sympathy and + profound respect shown by all classes toward the illustrious representative of + the Bourbons, was touching in the extreme. On his route from Heartwell, and + through Stanmore, troops of yeomanry turned out to give him an honorable escort; + and what could be <em>more</em> honorable than the voluntary attendance of the farmers + who represented the very bone and sinew of the country? The large portly figure + of the <span class="special_name">King</span> perfectly disabused <span + class="special_name">John Bull</span> of the long-cherished idea that Frenchmen + lived entirely upon frogs. Even that particular fact interested them, and + repeated huzzas greeted him throughout the whole of his route to London. On his + arrival at Guillon’s Hotel in Albermarle-street, which had been most splendidly + prepared for his reception, His Royal Highness the <span + class="special_name">Prince Regent</span> received him with that delicate + attention so worthy of his high and gallant bearing; and there <span + class="special_name">Louis</span> must have met with one of the most touching + scenes that ever thrilled the human heart. One hundred and fifty of the ancient + noblesse were waiting, after years of hopeless expectation, to greet the head of + that illustrious house, the recollection of whose sufferings awakened the most + painful feelings. Not one of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page191" + name="page191"></a>191</span>them but had shared in the horrors of that bloody + revolution; and not one of them but truly felt that the happiness of that moment + repaid them for all their sufferings.’</p> + + </div> + + + <p>A rich specimen of the pompous ignorance sometimes exhibited by theatrical + managers is afforded in the following anecdote, which has appeared in England, + but which we are sure will be relished by our readers. It may seem extraordinary + that a manager should be such an ignoramus; but ‘half the actors on the English + stage,’ says a recent writer, ‘dare not address a gentleman a note, lest they + should ‘show their hands:’’</p> + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">When</span> I first became a member of + Covent-Garden, Mr. <span class="special_name">Fawcett</span> held the reins of + management, in consequence of the retirement of Mr. <span + class="special_name">Kemble</span> from that position. He had experience to + guide him, but he unfortunately possessed a dictatorial manner, and a want of + that refinement and education which had so distinguished his great predecessor. + In speaking of his public position, however, let me pay homage to his private + virtues. He was a tender husband, an affectionate father, and a warm friend. + During my first season a play was produced called the ‘<i>Students of Salamanca</i>.’ + The author was Mr. <span class="special_name">Jamieson</span>, a member of the + bar, who had been particularly successful in several light pieces produced at + the Haymarket. Mr. <span class="special_name">Jones</span> and myself were ‘The + Students,’ and it occurred to me in my character to say, ‘My danger was + imminent.’ These words had scarcely passed my lips, when a dark and lowering + look dimmed the countenance of the manager. I saw that something was wrong, but + was quite at a loss to guess the cause. At the end of the scene, unwilling to + mortify me in the presence of the company, he beckoned me aside, and said: + ‘Young man, do you know what you said?’ I changed color, feeling that something + fearful had occurred. I replied, very much agitated, that I was not aware of any + error. ‘I thought so! Do you know where you are? You are in <em>London</em>, not in + Bath!’ The fact was so self-evident that I did not attempt to disprove it. ‘You + will be delivered up to scorn and contempt; the critics will immolate you; the + eyes of this great metropolis are fixed upon you. I thought you were a + well-educated young man, but I have been deceived—grossly deceived!’ The effect + of this tirade may be more easily conceived than described. My face flushed, my + heart beat, and I at length mustered courage to say, ‘For heaven’s sake, Sir, + pray tell me; I am extremely sorry—deeply regret—but pray tell me!’ The + kindness of his disposition got the better of his pedantry, and seeing the + agitation under which I was really suffering, he replied: ‘Do you remember that + you said your danger was <em>imminent</em>’? Now, Sir, there is no such word in the + English language: it is <em>eminent!!</em>’ Need I mention the unbounded relief this + explanation gave me? I quietly suggested the difference of their significations, + and was never after troubled with any corrections. He was a man of sterling + qualities, somewhat like a melon, as his friend <span + class="special_name">Colman</span> said; ‘rough without, smooth within.’’</p> + + </div> + + + <p>In the way of a hoax, we remember nothing more cleverly performed, than the + rather cruel one whose execution is pleasantly recorded below:</p> + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">There</span> was a lady attached to the Worthing + Theatre, (mark me, reader, I did not say attached to <em>me</em>,) who was very + eccentric, and who was, ‘small blame to her,’ as the Irishman says, also very + susceptible. I was on very intimate terms with Mr. <span + class="special_name">Harley</span>, who was then at Worthing; and one day, while + quietly dining together, we mutually agreed that there was a fickleness about + this lady which deserved some reproof. We were really liberal in our feelings, + and would not have objected to her shooting an extra dart occasionally; but it + was not to be borne that she should let fly a whole quiver at once. We had + observed that by way of having two or more strings to her bow, she had got up a + flirtation with the leader of the band, a most respectable man by the way, and + of considerable talent. After giving the affair all due consideration, we + decided upon a mock-duel, in which I was to personate one of the heroes, my + rival being the aforesaid leader. We carefully and ostentatiously avoided all + appearance of communication, and in such a way that it always reached her + knowledge. Thus by gentle innuendoes she discovered that something serious was + in contemplation, and of course she was not a little flattered, as she was the + object of dispute. Our duelling-pistols were one day ostentatiously paraded, and + evident anxiety took possession of the company, who were carefully excluded from + the secret. The following morning at five o’clock we each left our lodgings, + accompanied by our seconds, the rain pouring in torrents. <span + class="special_name">Harley</span> then went to the lodgings of the frail or + rather fair one, knocked at the door most violently, and at length she appeared + at the window, in evident alarm. He urged her if she had the feelings of a woman + immediately to accompany him, and prevent murder; briefly stating, that her + ‘beauties were the cause and most accursed effect.’ In a state of <span + class="pagenum"><a id="page192" name="page192"></a>192</span>real excitement, + mixed up with woman’s vanity, she rushed out of the house, and accompanied that + wag of wags. A white beaver hat, sweet emblem of her purity, was on her head, + and partially concealed her disordered ringlets, hastily gathered together. We + arranged with <span class="special_name">Harley</span> always to keep ourselves + a certain distance in advance on the pathway bordering the sands. The first + thing that occurred was a sudden gust of wind which swept the white beaver a + considerable distance and covered it with mud; her flowing locks then fell upon + her alabaster neck, and her romantic appearance was perfect. We most cruelly led + her on a distance of at least two miles, and took our station near some + lime-kilns, close to the sea. When she was sufficiently near, one of the seconds + stepped forward and gave the signal by dropping a blood-stained handkerchief, + prepared for the occasion. Bang! bang! went the pistols; when she gracefully + sank into the arms of <span class="special_name">Harley</span>, who held her in + a fine melo-dramatic attitude. The report was soon over all the town, and of + course in the newspapers. My adversary put his arm in a sling, and whenever I + happened to be near her, in a perfect state of despair I vowed that I could + never forgive myself for having shot my friend. We mutually repulsed her by + severe looks whenever she approached us; and she soon left the Worthing Theatre + to seek for victims of less sensibility in other places.’</p> + + </div> + + + <p>We once more take our leave of Mr. <span class="special_name">Abbott’s</span> + agreeable manuscript volume; by no means certain, however, that its entertaining + pages may not again tempt us to share with our readers the enjoyment they have + afforded us.</p> + + </div> + <div class="ed_table_item"> + <div class="gossip_table_item"> + <p><span class="ed_table_title">Gossip with Readers and Correspondents.</span>—<span class="first_word">Will</span> + the author of ‘<i>Public Concert-Singing</i>’ favor us with his address? We are + desirous of communicating with him, although he does <em>not</em> ‘find his + hastily-jotted thoughts in the pages of the <span + class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>,’ for reasons which perhaps he can + partly divine from the present number, and which we could impart more directly + in a private note. We agree with him entirely in his views; and if he will + permit us, we will here quote a passage from an article which we penned upon a + subject collateral to his general theme, many years ago, before we were hampered + with the professional ‘<em>we</em>,’ and could write out of our ‘company dress.’ It is + a little sketch of the first public singing, save that of the church, to which + we had ever listened: ‘How well do I remember it! It was at the theatre of a + country village; a rough, barn-like edifice, at which several Stentor-lunged + Thespians ‘from the New-York and Philadelphia Theatres’ split the ears of the + groundlings, and murdered <span class="special_name">Shakspeare’s</span> heroes + and the King’s English. I had been watching with boyish curiosity the play which + had just concluded: the mottled, patched, yellowish-green curtain had descended + upon the personages whose sorrows were my own; and I was gazing vacantly at the + long row of tallow candles placed in holes bored for the purpose in the stage, + and at the two fiddlers who composed ‘the orchestra,’ and who were + reconnoitering the house. Presently a small bell was rung, with a jerk. There + was a flourish or two from ‘the orchestra;’ another tinkle of the bell; and up + rose the faded drapery. An interval of a moment succeeded, during which half of + a large mountain was removed from the scenery, and a piece of forest shoved up + to the ambitious wood that had been aspiring to overtop the Alps. At length a + young lady, whom I had just seen butchered in a most horrid manner by a villain, + came from the side of the stage with a smile, which, while it displayed her + white teeth, wrought the rouge upon her face into very perceptible corrugations, + and made a lowly courtesy. She walked with measured step three or four times + across the stage, in the full blaze of the flaring candles, smiling again, and + hemming, to clear her voice. Presently a perfect stillness prevailed; ‘awed + Consumption checked his chided cough;’ every urchin suspended his cat-call; and + ‘the boldest held his breath for a time.’ Our vocalist looked at the leader of + the orchestra and his fellow-fiddlers, and commenced, in harmony with their + instruments. How touching was that song! I shall never have my soul so enrapt + again. That <em>freshness</em> of young admiration possessed my spirit which can come + but once. The air was ‘<i>The Braes of Balquither</i>,’ a charming melody, meetly + wedded to the noble lines of <span class="special_name">Tannehill</span>; and + <span class="pagenum"><a id="page193" name="page193"></a>193</span>enthusiasm + was at its height when the singer had concluded the following stanza, almost + sublime in its picturesque beauty:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘When the rude wintry wind wildly raves round our dwelling,</p> + <p>And the roar of the lion on the night-breeze is swelling,</p> + <p>Then so merrily we’ll sing, while the storm rattles o’er us,</p> + <p>Till the dear shealing ring with the light-lilting chorus!’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>The air was old as the hills, but like all Scottish melodies, as lasting too. To + every body the songs of Scotland are grateful; and the universal attachment to + them arises from their beautiful simplicity, deep pathos, and unaffected, + untrammelled melody. The romantic sway of the songs of Scotland over her sons + when ‘far awa’ is to me no marvel. If they possess the power to thrill or to + subdue the hearts of those who have never stepped upon the soil of that glorious + country, is it at all surprising that they should exert a powerful influence + over the native-born, who associate those airs with the purple heath, the blue + loch, the hazy mountain-top, and the valley sleeping below?</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘What sweet tears dim the eyes unshed,</p> + <p class="i2">What wild vows falter on the tongue,</p> + <p>When ‘Scots wha ha’ wi’ <span class="special_name">Wallace</span> bled,’</p> + <p class="i2">Or ‘Auld Lang Syne’ is sung!’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>The association however is touching, not <em>alone</em> because it awakens old + recollections, but because the music is <em>natural</em>; it is the language of the + heart. Affectation has not interpopolated tortuous windings and trills and + shakes, to mar its beauty, and to clip the full melodious notes of their fair + proportions. It is pleasant to think that fashion, though never so potent, can + neither divert nor lessen the popular attachment to the simpler melodies. We + have the authority of the <span class="special_name">Woods, Wilson, Sinclair, + Power</span>, and other eminent artists for stating that ‘Black-eyed Susan,’ + ‘John Anderson my Jo,’ ‘The Last Rose of Summer,’ and kindred airs, could always + ‘bring down the house,’ no matter what the antagonistical musical attraction + might be. We could wish that the <span class="special_name">Venerable + Taurus</span>, or ‘<span class="special_name">Old Bull</span>,’ as many persons + call him, would take a hint from this. Let him try it once; and we venture to + say that no one, however uninitiated, will again retire from his splendid + performances as a country friend of ours did lately, assigning as a reason: ‘I + waited till about ha’-past nine; and <em>then</em> he hadn’t got done <em>tunin’ his + fiddle</em>!’ A touch of ‘music for the general heart’ would have enchained him till + morning. <span class="special_name">Christopher North</span>, we perceive, in + the last <span class="special_name">Blackwood</span>, fully enters into the + spirit of our predilection. He has just returned from a concert of fashionable + music, where he ‘tried to faint, that he might be carried out, but didn’t know + how to do it,’ and was compelled to sit with compressed lips, and listen to + ‘sounds from flat shrill signorinas, quavering to distraction,’ for two long + hours. When he gets <em>home</em>, however, he ‘feeds fat his grudge’ against modern + musical affectations. Let us condense a few of his objurgations:</p> + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">It</span> is a perfect puzzle to us by what process the standard of music has become + so lowered, as to make what is ordinarily served up under that name be received + as the legitimate descendant of harmony. There is but one step from the sublime + to the ridiculous, and this entrancing art, it seems, has taken it; sorely + dislocating its graceful limbs, and injuring its goodly proportions in the + unseemly escapade. We hate your crashing, clumsy chords, and utterly spit at and + defy chromatic passages, from one end of the instrument to the other, and back + again; flats, sharps, and most appropriate ‘naturals,’ spattered all over the + page. The essential spirit of discord seems to be let loose on our modern music. + Music to soothe! the idea is obsolete. There is music to excite, much to + irritate one, and much more to drive a really musical soul stark mad; but none + to soothe, save that which is drawn from the hiding-places of the past. There is + no repose, no refreshment to the mind, in our popular compositions. There is to + us more of touching pathos, heart-thrilling expression, in some of the old + psalm-tunes, feelingly played, than in a whole batch of modernisms. The strains + go <em>home</em>, and the ‘fountains of the great deep are broken up;’ the great deep + of unfathomable feeling, that lies far, far below the surface of the + world-hardened heart; and as the unwonted yet unchecked tear starts to the eye, + the softened spirit yields to their influence, and shakes off the moil of + earthly care; rising, purified and spiritualized, into a clearer atmosphere.’</p> + + </div> + + </div> + <div class="gossip_table_item"> + <p><span class="first_word">We</span> often hear of odd things happening in consequence of mistakes in orthography, + but seldom of any benefit accruing therefrom to the orthoöpist. But a friend + mentioned to us <span class="pagenum"><a id="page194" + name="page194"></a>194</span>a little circumstance the other day, which would + seem to prove that it does a man good sometimes to spell somewhat at variance + with old <span class="special_name">Johnson</span>. In a village not far hence + lived a man known by the name of <span class="special_name">Broken Jones</span>. + He had dissipated a large fortune in various law-suits; had become poor and + crazy; and at last, like another <span class="special_name">Peebles</span>, his + sole occupation consisted in haunting the courts, lawyers’ offices, and other + scenes of his misfortunes. To judge and attorneys he was a most incorrigible + bore; to the latter especially, from whom he was continually soliciting opinions + on cases which had long been ‘settled,’ and carried to the law-ledgers, where + they were only occasionally hunted up as precedents in the suit of perhaps some + other destined victims. As <span class="special_name">Jones</span> hadn’t a cent + of money left, it was of course impossible for him to obtain any more + ‘opinions;’ but this didn’t cure him of his law-mania. One morning he entered + the office of lawyer <span class="keep_together">D——</span>, in a more excited state than he had exhibited for a + long time, and seating himself <i>vis-a-vis</i> with <em>his</em> victim, requested his + ‘opinion’ on one of the ‘foregone conclusions’ already mentioned. <span class="keep_together">D——</span> + happening at the moment to be very busy, endeavored to get rid of his visiter, + and contrived various expedients for that purpose. But <span + class="special_name">Jones</span> was not in a mood to be trifled with. ‘I came, + ‘Squire,’ said he, ‘to get your opinion in writing on this case, and I will have + it before I leave the room, if I sit here till the day of judgment!’ The lawyer + looked upon his visiter, while a thought of forcible ejectment passed through + his brain; but the glaring eye and stout athletic frame which met his gaze, told + him that such a course would be extremely hazardous. At length the dinner-bell + rang. A bright thought struck him; and putting on his coat and hat, he took + <span class="special_name">Jones</span> gently by the arm: ‘Come,’ said he, ‘go + and dine with me.’ ‘No!’ said the latter, fiercely; ‘I’ll never dine again until + I get what I came for.’ The lawyer was in a quandary, and at length, in very + despair, he consented to forego his dinner and give his annoyer the desired + opinion. ‘Well, well, <span class="special_name">Jones</span>,’ said he, + soothingly, ‘you shall have it;’ and gathering pens, ink and paper, he was soon + seated at the table, while <span class="special_name">Jones</span>, creeping on + tiptoe across the room, stood peeping over his shoulder. The lawyer commenced: + ‘My oppinion in the <span class="keep_together">case——’</span> ‘Humph!’ said the lunatic, suddenly seizing his + hat, and turning on his heel, ‘<em>I wouldn’t give a <span class="keep_together">d—n</span> for your opinion with + two p’s!</em>’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Many</span> of our public as well as private correspondents seem to + have been not a little interested in the articles on <i>Mind and Instinct</i>, in + late numbers of this Magazine. A valued friend writing from Maryland, observes: + ‘The collection of facts by your contributor is very industrious, their array + quite skilful, and the argument very strong. I think, however, that if I had + time I could pick several flaws in the reasoning, or rather erect a very good + counter-argument, founded principally upon the fact that the intelligence of + animals is generally as great in early youth as it is in the prime of their + beasthood. The author might have added to his list of facts, an account which I + read when a boy, of the practice of the baboons in Caffraria, near the + orange-orchards. They arrange themselves in a row from their dens to the + orange-trees. One then ascends the tree, plucks the oranges, and throws them to + the next baboon, and he to the next, and so on throughout the whole file; they + standing some fifty yards apart. In this manner they quickly strip a tree, and + at the same time are safe from being all surprised at once. The early French + missionaries in Canada, also asserted that the squirrels of that region, having + denuded the country on one side of the big lake, of nuts, used to take pieces of + birch bark, and hoisting their tails for canvass, float to the other side for + their supply.’ We have been struck with a passage in a powerful article upon + ‘<i>The Hope that is within Us</i>,’ in a late foreign periodical, wherein the + fruitful theme of our correspondent is touched upon. ‘If matter,’ says the + writer, ‘be incapable of consciousness, as <span + class="special_name">Johnson</span> so powerfully argues in <i>Rasselas</i>, then the + <i>animus</i> of brutes must be an <i>anima</i>, and immaterial; for the dog and the + elephant not merely exhibit ‘consciousness,’ but a ‘half-reasoning’ power. And + if it be true, as <span class="special_name">Johnson</span> maintains, that + immateriality of necessity produces immortality, then the poor Indian’s + conclusion is the most logical,</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Who thinks, admitted to that equal sky,</p> + <p>His faithful dog shall bear him company.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page195" name="page195"></a>195</span>The truth is, + that we must depend upon <em>revelation</em> for an assurance of immortality; which + promises, however, the resurrection of the body, as philosophy is unequal to its + demonstration, and modern researches into animal life have rendered the proof + more difficult than heretofore.’ By the by, ‘speaking of animals:’ there is a + letter from <span class="special_name">Lemuel Gulliver</span> in the last number + of <span class="special_name">Blackwood</span>, describing a meeting of + ‘delegates from the different classes of consumers of <em>oats</em>, held at the + Nag’s-Head inn at Horsham.’ The business of the meeting was opened by a young + <span class="special_name">Racer</span>, who expressed his desire to promote the + interests of the horse-community, and to promote any measure which might + contribute to the increase of the consumption of oats, and improve the condition + of his fellow quadrupeds. He considered the horse-interest greatly promoted by + the practice of sowing wild oats, which he warmly commended. A <span + class="special_name">Hackney-coach Horse</span> declared himself in favor of the + <em>sliding-scale</em>, which he understood to mean the wooden pavement. Things went + much more smoothly wherever it was established. He contended for the abolition + of nose-bags, which he designated as an intolerable nuisance; urged the + prohibition of chaff with oats, as unfit for the use of able-bodied horses; and + indeed evinced the truth of his professions, that he ‘yielded to no horse in an + anxious desire to promote the true interests of the horse-community.’ An <span + class="special_name">Old English Hunter</span> impressed upon the young + delegates the good old adage of ‘Look before you leap,’ and urged them to go for + ‘measures, not men.’ <span class="special_name">A Stage Horse</span> ‘congratulated the community upon + the abolition of bearing-reins, those grievous burdens upon the necks of all + free-going horses; and he trusted the time would soon arrive when the blinkers + would also be taken off, every corn-bin thrown open, and every horse his own + leader.’ Several other steeds, in the various ranks of horse-society, addressed + the meeting. ‘Resolutions, drawn by two <span + class="special_name">Dray-Horses</span>, embodying the supposed grievances of + the community, were finally agreed upon, and a petition, under the hoof of the + president, founded upon them, having been prepared and ordered to be presented + to the House of Commons by the members for Horsham, the meeting separated, and + the delegates returned to their respective stables.’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">What</span> habitual theatre + or opera-goer has not been tempted a thousand times to laugh outright, and quite + in the wrong place, at the incongruities, the inconsistencies, the mental and + physical <i>catachreses</i> of the stage, which defy illusion and destroy all + vraisemblance? A London sufferer in this kind has hit off some of the salient + points of these absurdities in a few ‘Recollections of the Opera:’</p> + + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">I’ve</span> known a god on clouds of gauze</p> + <p class="i2">With patience hear a people’s prayer,</p> + <p>And bending to the pit’s applause,</p> + <p class="i2">Wait while the priest repeats the air.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I’ve seen a black-wig’d Jove hurl down</p> + <p class="i2">A thunder-bolt along a wire,</p> + <p>To burn some distant canvass town,</p> + <p class="i2">Which—how vexatious!—won’t catch fire.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I’ve known a tyrant doom a maid</p> + <p class="i2">(With trills and <i>roulades</i> many a score)</p> + <p>To instant death! She, sore afraid,</p> + <p class="i2">Sings: and the audience cries ‘Encore!’</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I’ve seen two warriors in a rage</p> + <p class="i2">Draw glist’ning swords and, awful sight!</p> + <p>Meet face to face upon the stage</p> + <p class="i2">To sing a song, but not to fight!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I’ve heard a king exclaim ‘To arms!’</p> + <p class="i2">Some twenty times, yet still remain;</p> + <p>I’ve known his army ‘midst alarms,</p> + <p class="i2">Help by a bass their monarch’s strain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I’ve known a hero wounded sore,</p> + <p class="i2">With well-tuned voice his foes defy;</p> + <p>And warbling stoutly on the floor,</p> + <p class="i2">With the last flourish fall and die.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I’ve seen a mermaid dress’d in blue;</p> + <p class="i2">I’ve seen a cupid burn a wing;</p> + <p>I’ve known a Neptune lose a shoe;</p> + <p class="i2">I’ve heard a guilty spectre sing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I’ve seen, spectators of a dance,</p> + <p class="i2">Two Brahmins, Mahomet, the Cid,</p> + <p>Four Pagan kings, four knights of France,</p> + <p class="i2">Jove and the Muses—scene Madrid!’</p> + </div> + </div> + </div> + <div class="gossip_table_item"> + + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> leading paper in the present number will not escape the attention nor fail + to win the admiration of the reader. The description of the <i>Ascent of Mount + Ætna</i> by our eminent artist, is forcible and graphic in the extreme. It will + derive additional interest at this moment from the recent eruption of this + renowned volcano, which still continued at the last advices, and by which + already seventy persons had lost their lives. If our metropolitan readers would + desire a <em>due</em> impression of the magnificent scene which our correspondent <span + class="pagenum"><a id="page196" name="page196"></a>196</span>has described, let + them drop in at the rooms of the National Academy of Design, where they will + find the Burning Mountain, as seen from Taormina, depicted in all its vastness + and grandeur; and not only this, but the noble series of allegorical pictures, + heretofore noticed at large in this Magazine, called ‘<i>The Voyage of Life</i>,’ + representing Childhood, Youth, Manhood, and Old Age; ‘<i>Angels ministering to + Christ in the Wilderness</i>,’ a picture that has an horizon, and an aërial + gradation toward the zenith, which alone, to say nothing of the figures, and the + composition itself as a study, would richly repay a visit; ‘<i>The Past and the + Present</i>,’ two most effective scenes, especially the second, which is + overflowing with the mingled graces of poetry and art; a glorious composition, + ‘<i>An Italian Scene</i>,’ of which we shall speak hereafter; as well as of the view + of ‘<i>Ruined Aqueducts in the Campagna di Roma</i>,’ fading into dimness toward the + imperial city, and of ‘<i>The Notch in the White Mountains</i>’ of New-Hampshire. + <i>Apropos</i>: we perceive by a letter from an American at Rome, in one of the + public journals, that <span class="special_name">Thorwaldsen</span>, the great + sculptor, was an enthusiastic admirer of Mr. <span + class="special_name">Cole’s</span> pictures, particularly of his ‘Voyage of + Life,’ which he pronounced ‘original, and new in art.’ ‘He could talk of nothing + else,’ says the writer, ‘for a long time; and every time he speaks of him, he + adds: ‘<i>Ma che artista, che grand’ artista, quel vostro compatriota! Che + fantasia! quanto studio della natura!</i>’ ‘But what an artist, what a great + artist, is this countryman of yours! What fancy, what study of nature!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> + <span class="first_word">We</span> are aware of a pair of ‘bonny blue een’ + swimming in light, that will ‘come the married woman’s eye’ over a kind but most + antiquarian husband, when the following is read, some two weeks from now, in + their ‘little parlor’ in a town of the far west. It reaches us in the <span + class="small_all_caps">MS.</span> of a Boston friend: ‘Old Colonel <span class="keep_together">W——</span>, formerly + a well-known character in one of our eastern cities, was remarkable for but one + passion out of the ordinary range of humanity, and that was for buying at + auction any little lot of trumpery which came under the head of ‘miscellaneous,’ + for the reason that it couldn’t be classified. Though close-fisted in general, + he was continually throwing away his money by fives and tens upon such trash. In + this way he had filled all the odd corners in his dwelling and out-houses with a + collection of nondescript articles, that would have puzzled a philosopher to + tell what they were made for, or to what use they could ever be put. This + however, was but a secondary consideration with the Colonel; for he seldom + troubled his head about such articles after they were once fairly housed. Not so + with his wife however, who was continually remonstrating against these + purchases, which served only to clutter up the house, and as food for the mirth + of the domestics. But the Colonel, though he often submitted to these + remonstrances of his better-half, couldn’t resist his passion; and so he went on + adding from week to week to his heap of miscellanies. One day while sauntering + down the street, he heard the full, rich tones of his friend <span class="keep_together">C——</span>, the + well-known auctioneer, and as a matter of course stepped in to see what was + being sold. On the floor he observed a collection that looked as if it might + have been purloined from the garret of some museum, and around which a motley + group was assembled; while on the counter stood the portly auctioneer, in the + very height of a mock-indignant remonstrance with his audience. ‘Nine dollars + and ninety cents!’ cried the auctioneer. ‘Gentlemen, it is a shame, it is + barbarous, to stand by and permit such a sacrifice of property! Nine dol-<em>lars</em> + and <span class="keep_together">ninety——</span> Good morning, Colonel! A magnificent lot of—of—<em>antiques</em>—and + all going for nine dollars and ninety cents. Gentlemen, you’ll never see another + such lot; and all going—going—for nine dollars and ninety cents. Colonel + <span class="keep_together">W——</span>, can <em>you</em> permit such a sacrifice?’ The Colonel glanced his eye over the + lot, and then with a nod and a wink assured him he could not. The next instant + the hammer came down, and the purchase was the Colonel’s, at ten dollars. As the + articles were to be paid for and removed immediately, the Colonel lost no time + in getting a cart, and having seen every thing packed up and on their way to his + house, he proceeded to his own store, chuckling within himself that <em>now</em> at + least he had made a bargain at which even his wife couldn’t grumble. In due time + he was seated at the dinner-table, when lifting his eyes, he observed a cloud + upon his wife’s brow. ‘Well, my dear?’ said he, inquiringly. ‘Well?’ repeated + his wife; ‘it is <span class="pagenum"><a id="page197" + name="page197"></a>197</span><em>not</em> well, Mr. W.; I am vexed beyond endurance. + You know <span class="keep_together">C——</span>, the auctioneer?’ ‘Certainly,’ replied the Colonel; ‘and a very + gentlemanly person he is <em>too</em>.’ ‘<em>You</em> may think so,’ rejoined the wife, ‘but I + <em>don’t</em>, and I’ll tell you why. A few days ago I gathered together all the + trumpery with which you have been cluttering up the house for the last + twelve-month, and sent it to Mr. <span class="keep_together">C——</span>, with orders to sell the lot immediately + to the highest bidder for cash. He assured me he would do so in all this week, + at farthest, and pay over the proceeds to my order. And here I’ve been + congratulating myself on two things: first, on having got rid of a most + intolerable nuisance; and secondly, on receiving money enough therefor to + purchase that new velvet hat you promised me so long ago. And now what do you + think? This morning, about an hour ago, <em>the whole load came back again, without + a word of explanation</em>!’ The Colonel looked blank for a moment, and then + proceeded to clear up the mystery. But the good <span + class="special_name">vrouw</span> was pacified only by the promise of a + ten-dollar note beside that in the hands of the auctioneer; on condition, + however, that she should never mention it.’ Of course she kept her word! <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> + <span class="first_word">How</span> seldom it is that one encounters a good sonnet! Most sonnetteers of our day + are like feeble-framed men walking in heavy armor; ‘the massy weight on’t galls + their laden limbs.’ We remember two or three charming sonnets of <span + class="special_name">Longfellow’s</span>; <span class="special_name">Park + Benjamin</span> has been unwontedly felicitous in some of his examples; and + <span class="special_name">H. T. Tuckerman</span> has excelled in the same + poetical rôle. Here is a late specimen of his, from the ‘Democratic Review,’ + which we regard as very beautiful:</p> + + + <h3 class="title">DESOLATION.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Think</span> ye the desolate must live apart,</p> + <p class="i2">By solemn vows to convent walls confined?</p> + <p>Ah! no; with men may dwell the cloistered heart,</p> + <p class="i2">And in a crowd the isolated mind:</p> + <p>Tearless behind the prison-bars of fate</p> + <p class="i2">The world sees not how sorrowful they stand,</p> + <p>Gazing so fondly through the iron grate</p> + <p class="i2">Upon the promised, yet forbidden land;</p> + <p>Patience, the shrine to which their bleeding feet,</p> + <p class="i2">Day after day, in voiceless penance turn;</p> + <p>Silence the holy cell and calm retreat</p> + <p class="i2">In which unseen their meek devotions burn;</p> + <p>Life is to them a vigil that none share,</p> + <p>Their hopes a sacrifice, their love a prayer.</p> + </div> + </div> + + </div> + <div class="gossip_table_item"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">Our</span> Ancient,’ the editor of the handsome + ‘Lady’s and Gentleman’s Magazine’ hight ‘<i>The Columbian</i>,’ (which is to run a + brisk competition, as we learn, with the other ‘pictorials,’ <span + class="special_name">Godey’s</span>, <span class="special_name">Graham’s</span>, and <span + class="special_name">Snowden’s</span>,) should have enabled us to speak of it + from an examination of <em>our own copy</em>, instead of being obliged to filch an idea + of its merits from the counter of those most obliging gentlemen, Messrs. <span + class="special_name">Burgess and Stringer</span>. The work is a gay one + externally, and spirited internally; having several good articles from good + writers, male and female. One of the best things in it, however, is the paper on + ‘<i>Magazine Literature</i>,’ by the Editor. How many writers, now well known both at + home and abroad, who began and continue their literary career in the <span + class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, can bear testimony to the truth of + the following remarks:</p> + + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">We</span> have said that this is the age of + magazines; adverting not merely to their number, but even more especially to + their excellence. They are the field, chiefly, in which literary reputation is + won. Who ever thinks of <span class="special_name">John Wilson</span> as the + learned professor, or as the author of bound volumes? Who does not, when <span + class="special_name">Wilson’s</span> name is mentioned, instantly call to mind + the splendid article-writer, the <span class="special_name">Christopher + North</span> of Blackwood? <span class="special_name">Charles Lamb</span> was + long known only as the <span class="special_name">Elia</span> of the New + Monthly. Most of the modern French celebrities; <span class="special_name">Sue</span>, + <span class="special_name">Janin</span>, and half a hundred others, have made their fame in the + <i>feuilletons</i> of the Parisian journals; a more decided graft, by the way, than + is elsewhere seen, of the magazine upon the newspaper. In our own country, how + many there are whose names are known from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf of + Mexico, that are as yet innocent of books, but have nevertheless contributed + largely and well to the growing stock of American literature. How many more who + are bringing themselves into notice by their monthly efforts in the pages of + some popular magazine. In fact, the magazine is the true channel into which + talent should direct itself for the acquisition of literary fame. The newspaper + is too ephemeral; the book is not of sufficiently rapid and frequent production. + The monthly magazine just hits the happy medium, enabling the <span + class="pagenum"><a id="page198" name="page198"></a>198</span>writer to present + himself twelve times a year before a host of readers, in whose memories he is + thus kept fresh, yet allowing him space enough to develope his thought, and time + enough to do his talent justice in each article. Then, too, on the score of + emolument, justly recognised now as a very essential matter, and legitimately + entitled to grave consideration, the magazine offers advantages not within the + reach of either book or newspaper. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">But</span> after all, the great point is, that + magazines are more read than any other kind of publications. They just adapt + themselves to the leisure of the business man, and the taste of the idler; to + the spare half hours of the notable housewife and the languid inertia of the + fashionable lady. They can be dropped into a valise or a carpet-bag as a welcome + provision for the wants of a journey by steam-boat or rail-road, when the + country through which the traveller passes offers nothing attractive to be seen, + or the eyes are weary of seeing; they while away delightfully the tedious hours + of a rainy day in summer, and afford the most pleasant occupation through the + long evenings of winter.’</p> + + </div> + + + <p>Touching the matter of payment for magazine articles: Mr. <span + class="special_name">Willis</span> informs us that many of the American + magazines pay to their more eminent contributors nearly three times the amount + for a printed page that is paid by English magazines to the best writers in + Great-Britain; and he instances <span class="special_name">Godey</span> and + <span class="special_name">Graham</span> as paying often twelve dollars a page + to their principal contributors. This refers to <em>a few</em> ‘principal’ writers + only, as we have good reason to know, having been instrumental in sending + several acceptable correspondents to those publications, who have received + scarcely one-fourth of the sum mentioned. Mr. <span + class="special_name">Willis</span> adds, however, that many good writers write + for nothing, and that ‘the number of clever writers has increased so much that + there are thousands who can get no article accepted.’ All this is quite true. + There is no magazine in America that has paid so large sums to distinguished + native writers as the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>. Indeed, + our <em>most</em> distinguished American writer was never a contributor to any other of + our Monthlys than this. The books of this Magazine show, that independent of the + Editor’s division of its profits as joint proprietor, or his salary as editor, + (a matter which its publishers have always kept distinct from, and in all + respects unconnected with, the payments to contributors,) annual sums have + heretofore been paid for literary <i>matériel</i> greater than the most liberal + estimate we have seen of any annual literary payment by our widely-circulated + contemporaries. To the first poet in America, (not to say in the world, at this + moment,) we have repeatedly paid fifty dollars for a single poem, not exceeding, + in any instance, two pages in length; and the cost of prose papers from sources + of kindred eminence has in many numbers exceeded fifteen dollars a page. Again: + we have in several instances paid twice as much for the MS. of a continuous + novel in these pages as the writer could obtain of any metropolitan + book-publisher; and after appearing in volumes, it has been found that the wide + publicity given to the work by the <span + class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> has been of greatest service to its + popularity, in more than one subsequent edition. We should add, however, that we + have had no lack, at any period, of excellent articles for our work at moderate + prices; while many of our more popular papers have been entirely gratuitous, + unless indeed the writers consider the honorable reputation which they have + established in these pages as <em>some</em> reward for intellectual exertion. But + ‘something too much of this.’ We close with a word touching the pictorial + features of the ‘<i>Columbian</i>.’ It has four ‘plates’ proper, with an engraving of + the fashions; is neatly executed by Messrs. <span class="special_name">Hopkins + and Jennings</span>, and published by <span class="special_name">Israel + Post</span>, Number Three, Astor-House. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Saint + Valentine’s Day</span> is just at hand; and a pleasant correspondent, in + enclosing us the following lines, begs us to mention the fact, and to refer to + the festivities of the day. We know of <em>one</em> ‘festivity’ that will be a very + <i>recherché</i> and brilliant affair, on the evening of that day; namely, ‘<i>The + Bachelors’ Ball</i>,’ to be given with unwonted splendor at the Astor-House, under + the supervision of accomplished managers, whose taste and liberality have + already been abundantly tested. ‘Take it as a matter granted,’ says our friend, + ‘that very many of your lady-readers will commit matrimony before the year is + done; and tell them so plainly; for it will gratify their palpitating hearts; + and even should it not be true in every individual case, the disappointed ones + will never complain of you for the pleasing delusion; for it was their own + fault, of course, not yours. It behooves you, moreover, as a conservator of the + general weal, to give the young wives that are to be some goodly counsel; and to + aid you in the laudable office of advice-giver, I send you some appropriate + verses, which some fifteen <span class="pagenum"><a id="page199" + name="page199"></a>199</span>years ago went the rounds of the press, and met + with ‘acceptance bounteous.’ The moral of the stanzas, I take it, is + unexceptionable, whatever may be said of their execution:’</p> + + + + <h3 class="title">EPISTLE</h3> + + <h4 class="subtitle">ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY JUST MARRIED.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">On</span> matrimony’s fickle sea</p> + <p class="i2">I hear thou’rt ventured fairly;</p> + <p>Though young in years, it may not be</p> + <p class="i2">Thy bark is launched too early.</p> + <p>Each wish of mine to heaven is sent,</p> + <p class="i2">That on the stormy water</p> + <p>Thou’lt prove a wife obedient,</p> + <p class="i2">As thou hast been a daughter.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>If every wish of mine were bliss,</p> + <p class="i2">If every hope were pleasure,</p> + <p>Thou wouldst with him find happiness,</p> + <p class="i2">And he in thee a treasure:</p> + <p>For every wish and hope of mine,</p> + <p class="i2">And every thought and feeling,</p> + <p>Is for the weal of thee and thine,</p> + <p class="i2">As true as my revealing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>To please thy husband in all things,</p> + <p class="i2">Forever be thou zealous;</p> + <p>And bear in mind that Love has wings,</p> + <p class="i2">Then never make him jealous:</p> + <p>For if Love from his perch once flies,</p> + <p class="i2">How weak are Beauty’s jesses!</p> + <p>In vain might plead thy streaming eyes,</p> + <p class="i2">And thy dishevelled tresses.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Be prudent in thy thoughts of dress,</p> + <p class="i2">Be sparing of thy parties;</p> + <p>Where fashion riots in excess,</p> + <p class="i2">O! nothing there of heart is!</p> + <p>And can its palling sweets compare</p> + <p class="i2">With love of faithful bosom?</p> + <p>Then of the fatal tree beware,</p> + <p class="i2">There’s poison in its blossom!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Each thought and wish in him confide,</p> + <p class="i2">No secret from him cherish;</p> + <p>Whenever thou hast aught to hide,</p> + <p class="i2">The better feelings perish.</p> + <p>In whatsoe’er ye do or say,</p> + <p class="i2">O never with him palter;</p> + <p>Remember too, thou saidst ‘obey’</p> + <p class="i2">Before the holy altar.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Bear and forbear, for much thou’lt find</p> + <p class="i2">In married life to tease ye,</p> + <p>And should thy husband seem unkind,</p> + <p class="i2">Averse to smile, or please ye,</p> + <p>Think that amid the cares of life</p> + <p class="i2">His troubles fret and fear him;</p> + <p>Then smile as it becomes a wife,</p> + <p class="i2">And labor well to cheer him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Aye answer him with loving word,</p> + <p class="i2">Be each tone kindly spoken,</p> + <p>For sometimes is the holy cord</p> + <p class="i2">By angry jarring broken.</p> + <p>Then curb thy temper in its rage,</p> + <p class="i2">And fretful be thou never;</p> + <p>For broken once, a fearful change</p> + <p class="i2">Frowns over both forever.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Upon thy neck light hang the chain,</p> + <p class="i2">For Hymen now hath bound ye,</p> + <p>O’er thee and thine may pleasure reign,</p> + <p class="i2">And smiling friends surround ye.</p> + <p>Then fare ye well, and may each time</p> + <p class="i2">The sun smiles, find ye wiser:</p> + <p>Pray kindly take the well-meant rhyme</p> + <p class="i2">Of thy sincere adviser.</p> + </div> + </div> + + </div> + <div class="gossip_table_item"> + + <p><span class="first_word">Through</span> the kindness of Messrs. <span class="special_name">Mason and + Tuttle</span>, Nassau-street, (who import the <em>originals</em> for immediate + circulation to American subscribers,) we have our copies of the foreign + Monthlys, as well as of the ‘Edinburgh,’ ‘Foreign,’ and ‘Quarterly’ Reviews for + the current quarter. The ‘Quarterly, so savage and tartarly,’ has a notice of + the ‘<i>Change for American Notes</i>,’ which is not conceived in the kindest spirit + toward this country. It reviews <span class="special_name">Prescott’s</span> + late work, however, at great length, and welcomes it with cordial commendation. + Among other ‘good words,’ the reviewer observes: ‘He is full and copious, + without being prolix and wearisome; his narrative is flowing and spirited, + sometimes very picturesque; his style is pure, sound English.’ In conclusion, + the reviewer says: ‘We close with expressing our satisfaction that Mr. <span + class="special_name">Prescott</span> has given us an opportunity at this time of + showing our deep sympathy, the sympathy of kindred and of blood, with Americans + who like himself do honor to our common literature. Mr. <span + class="special_name">Prescott</span> may take his place among the real good + English writers of history in modern times.’ The ‘Foreign Quarterly’ opens with + a paper upon ‘<i>The Poets and Poetry of America</i>,’ ostensibly based upon Mr. + <span class="special_name">Griswold’s</span> book. It is not altogether a + review, however, but a very coarse and evidently malignant tirade against + America, her people, institutions, manners, customs, literature; every thing, in + short, that she is and that she contains. We annex a hasty synopsis of the + <em>critical</em> portion of the article in question. <span + class="special_name">Halleck</span> is ‘praised, and that highly too.’ His + ‘Marco Bozzaris’ is pronounced ‘a master-piece,’ and the ‘most perfect specimen + of versification in American literature;’ and himself as possessing ‘a complete + knowledge of the musical mysteries of his art.’ A quotation is made, with much + laud, from his ‘<span class="special_name">Red-Jacket</span>,’ but the lines are + spoiled by two gross errors; one in the last line <span class="pagenum"><a + id="page200" name="page200"></a>200</span>of the third, and the other in the + first line of the fifth stanza. The highest encomiums are justly bestowed upon + <span class="special_name">Bryant</span>, as a ‘purely American poet,’ who + ‘treats the works of Nature with a religious solemnity, and brings to the + contemplation of her grandest relations a pure and serious spirit. His poetry is + reflective but not sad; grave in its depths but brightened in its flow by the + sunshine of the imagination. He never paints on gauze; he is always earnest, + always poetical; his manner is every where graceful and unaffected.’ The + illustrative quotation is from ‘An Evening Reverie,’ written by Mr. <span + class="special_name">Bryant</span> for the <span + class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>. <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span> is pronounced to be + ‘unquestionably the first of American poets; the most thoughtful and chaste; the + most elaborate and finished. His poems are distinguished by severe intellectual + beauty, by dulcet sweetness of expression, a wise and hopeful spirit, and a + complete command over every variety of rhythm. They are neither numerous nor + long, but of that compact texture which will last for posterity.’ <span + class="special_name">Sprague</span> is represented as having in certain of his + poems imitated <span class="special_name">Shakspeare</span> and <span + class="special_name">Collins</span> rather too closely for all three to be + original. ‘<span class="special_name">Pierpont</span> is crowded with + coincidences which look very like <em>plagiarisms</em>;’ ‘but,’ adds the reviewer, ‘it + is reserved for <span class="special_name">Charles Fenno Hoffman</span> to distance all plagiarists of + ancient and modern times in the enormity and openness of his thefts. He is <span + class="special_name">Moore</span> hocused for the American market. His songs are + <i>rifaciamentos</i>. The turns of the melody, the flowing of the images, the + scintillating conceits, are all <span class="special_name">Moore</span>. + Sometimes he steals his very words.’ Mrs. <span + class="special_name">Sigourney’s</span> poetry is said to be characterized by + ‘feeble verbosity’ and ‘lady-like inanity,’ and Mrs. <span + class="special_name">Osgood</span> is represented as being in the same category. + After quoting certain characteristic lines of Mr. <span + class="special_name">John Neal</span>, describing the eye of a poet as ‘<em>brimful + of water and light</em>,’ and his forehead as being ‘<em>alarmingly bright</em>,’ the + reviewer adds: ‘We find a pleasant relief from these distressing hallucinations, + in the poems of <span class="special_name">Alfred B. Street</span>. He is a + descriptive poet, and at the head of his class. His pictures of American scenery + are full of <em>gusto</em> and freshness; sometimes too wild and diffuse, but always + true and beautiful.’ So some are praised and some are blamed—‘thus runs the + world away!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> are made aware, and we + would not have our correspondents ignorant of the fact, that there is a critical + eye monthly upon our pages, that is keen to discover errors (as well as + beauties) in language and construction of sentences. See: ‘By the by, what a + miserable language is our English in some respects; so awkward, so incompact! + Look at the phrase ‘unheard of,’ and compare it with the Latin ‘<i>inauditus</i>.’ + What a pity we were not born Romans or Greeks, with Yankee notions! Tell your + Gotham friends that if they are speaking of a ruinous <em>brick</em> wall, they must + say <i>dilaterated</i>, from ‘later,’ a brick, and not ‘<i>dilapidated</i>,’ from ‘lapis,’ + a stone. One might as well say a man is ‘stoned’ to death with brick-bats.’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> + <span class="first_word">What</span> sad and startling contrasts are + presented to the eye and mind of one who attentively looks over the illustrated + newspapers of the British metropolis! On one hand, pictures of triumphal + processions, arches, bonfires, illuminations, rich presents, gorgeous equipages, + state-beds, ‘royal poultry-houses, owleries, and pigeonries,’ accompanied by + elaborate descriptions, arrest the attention; on the other, there is a picture + of a city ‘Asylum for the Destitute,’ where poor naked wretches find a temporary + refuge from the pitiless winter storm without: huddling round a dim fire, or + sunk exhausted upon the straw in the human ‘stalls,’ or clutching at their bowls + of pauper-soup; a scene whose true character is enforced by accounts of poor + women making shirts for <em>a farthing apiece</em>, a hard day’s work; sleeping four in + a bed; purchasing with the scanty pittance tea-leaves to boil over again! + Hardly-entreated brothers and sisters of humanity! not always shall the glaring + inequality that surrounds you, crush your spirits to the earth! <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span + class="first_word">There</span> is a pleasant pen in our metropolitan + ‘<i>Aurora</i>,’ which occasionally dashes off sententious paragraphs that flash and + sparkle like snow-crust in a moon-lit night in winter. There is evidently a + <span class="special_name">Foster</span>-ing hand over its columns; and + <em>through</em> them (let us add, as it is <em>that</em> of which we especially wish to + speak,) over the reputation of Mr. <span class="special_name">Willis</span>. The + remarks in a late number of that journal, under the head of ‘<em>Mr. Willis’s + Defence</em>’ against a scurrilous attack on his private character in a down-eastern + print, were equally just and felicitous. Had it been generally <span + class="pagenum"><a id="page201" name="page201"></a>201</span>known in his native + town who was the instigator of that attack, we have good authority for saying + that, gross as it was, Mr. <span class="special_name">Willis</span> would have + considered it utterly beneath his notice. As it was, however, he deemed it not + amiss at one and the same time to punish skulking envy and impotent malignity; + to vindicate his reputation with his townsmen against unprovoked calumny; and to + render the repetition of any obnoxious remarks from the same source altogether + ‘of none effect’ and unworthy of heed. This he accomplished by his ‘Defence’ and + the ‘terrors of the law,’ which speedily produced a satisfactory sample of + wholesale word-eating. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Of</span> all the Polichinellos we have ever encountered, + we consider ‘<i>Punch, or the London Charivari</i>,’ the best. His fun is + exhaustless. He ought to be knighted and appointed court-jester to King <span + class="special_name">Ennui</span>. ‘Laughter,’ he tells us, ‘is a divine + faculty. It is one of the few, nay, the only one redeeming grace in that + thunder-cased, profligate old scoundrel <span + class="special_name">Jupiter</span>, that he sometimes laughs: he is saved from + the disgust of all respectable people by the amenity of a broad grin.’ We + ourselves hold with the pleasant <span class="special_name">Lincoln + Ramble</span>: ‘I love a hearty laugh; I love to <em>hear</em> a hearty laugh above all + other sounds. It is the music of the heart; the thrills of those chords which + vibrate from no bad touch; the language Heaven has given us to carry on the + exchange of sincere and disinterested sympathies.’ And to the end that ‘laughter + free and silvery from the heart may escape the reader, doing rightful honor to + <span class="special_name">Punch</span>, and bestowing cheerfulness and health + upon the laughter,’ we proceed to present a few excerpta which arrested our + attention in looking over late files. We suspect that the annexed report of the + ‘doings of Royalty’ in the country have more than once had a precedent. <span + class="special_name">Prince Albert</span> is here at Dayton-Manor, the seat of + Sir <span class="special_name">Robert Peel</span>: ‘Her Majesty slept extremely + well; but whether it was the air of Dayton, or the conversation of the host, did + not transpire. At eleven o’clock in the morning, Prince Albert went out to + shoot. The guns were ordered at ten and the game was desired to be in attendance + at half-past. The Prince first went in a boat on the water, where several ducks + were appointed to be in waiting. Having granted an audience to the whole of + them, and unintentionally honored two by shooting them, though it was another + duck who had the distinguished gratification of being aimed at and missed, his + Royal Highness landed. A numerous meeting of hares and pheasants having been + called to pay their respects to the Prince, the game-keepers forming an outer + circle, with their guns pointed to keep the game well up to the mark, His Royal + Highness shot sixty pheasants, twenty-five head of hares, eight rabbits and one + wood-cock, who would cock his bill opposite the muzzle of Royalty.’ The poetical + advertisement of one <span class="special_name">Moses</span>, a slop-shop + clothes-man, is pleasantly ‘reviewed.’ Of his ‘Prince <span + class="special_name">Albert</span> coats,’ <span + class="special_name">Punch</span> says: ‘Whatever may be the resemblance between + the Prince and the coat, the similarity certainly ends with the price; one + costing thirty shillings and the other thirty thousand pounds per annum.’ Here + is a touch at Moses’ sea-coats:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘These coats for nautical pursuits</p> + <p>Have qualities no one disputes;</p> + <p>The very texture of their cloth</p> + <p>Seems to defy the ocean’s wrath:</p> + <p>And then their form and make as well</p> + <p>Are suited to the billows’ swell.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>What can be happier than the allusion to the fact mentioned in the last two + lines; namely, that the coat is quite a match for the billows, being as great a + swell as any of them? The poet dashes off a few lines on trowsers, finishing + with the following couplet, which is not likely to encourage purchasers. It is + stated, and we dare say truly, that if any one puts on a pair of <span + class="special_name">Moses’</span> trowsers he becomes at once an object of + general observation:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘While oft such cries as these escape;</p> + <p>Look! there’s a figure! there’s a shape!’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>It is a very natural consequence, no doubt, of disporting one’s-self in + doe-skins made for seven-pence a pair; but the cries of ‘There’s a figure! + there’s a shape!’ must make the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page202" + name="page202"></a>202</span>trowsers rather dear to any one who wishes to walk + about peaceably, unmolested by this species of street-criticism.’ Under the head + of ‘Bolsters for Behindhand Botanists,’ we find these original questions and + answers: ‘What are the most difficult roots to extract from the ground?’ The + cube-root. ‘What is the pistil of a flower?’ It is that instrument with which + the flower shoots. ‘What is meant by the word stamina?’ It means the pluck or + courage which enables the flower to shoot.’ ‘The reversionary interest of a + life-crossing, with retail lucifer business attached,’ is offered by a + street-sweeper near the Bank of England, he having ‘prigged vat vasn’t his’n, + and gone to pris’n.’ ‘He effected an irregular transfer at the bank one day, + which, whatever his doubts upon the subject might previously have been, led to + his ultimate conviction.’ The ‘Comic <span + class="special_name">Blackstone</span>’ enlightens us upon one of the ‘King’s + prerogatives’: ‘The King is the fountain of justice, from which are supplied all + the leaden reservoirs in Westminster-Hall, and the pumps at the inferior + tribunals.’ Among the public inquiries is the following: ‘At a crowded meeting + at Islington, on the question of granting a theatrical license, the papers state + that the judges declined at first, but upon the urgent appeal of an advocate, + ‘<em>the bench gave way</em>.’ Are we to understand from this that the opposition fell + to the ground?’ In ‘<span class="special_name">Punch’s</span> Almanac’ for 1844, + we find among other side-remarks, the annexed: under May seventh: + ‘<span class="special_name">Washington Irving</span> on his way to Madrid as American Ambassador, is + entertained in London, 1842. America takes the hand of Spain, and puts her best + <em>pen</em> into it.’ ‘June sixth: The first cargo of ice comes from America, 1843, + for the relief of those who had burnt their fingers with Pennsylvania bonds.’ + ‘Time is money; but it doesn’t follow that man is a capitalist who has a great + quantity of it on his hands.’ <span class="special_name">Punch’s</span> + ‘Literary Intelligence’ is very full. From it we gather that the author of the + ‘Mothers,’ ‘Wives,’ ‘Maids,’ and ‘Daughters’ of England has another work in + press, entitled ‘<i>The Grandmothers of England</i>.’ ‘No grandmother’s education + will be complete till she has read and re-read ‘The Grandmothers of England.’ + The book is the very best guide to oval suction extant.’ So says an ‘<i>Evening + Paper</i>.’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> should be glad to be informed of <em>the name</em> of any real or + pretended lover of the turf and its manifold interests, or of an admirer of one + of the most entertaining weekly journals on this continent, who could ask <em>more</em> + than is offered by the ‘<i>Spirit of the Times</i>’ to all new subscribers to that + widely-popular sheet; being no less than any five of those fine large quarto + engravings on steel, from original paintings, of Col. <span + class="special_name">Johnson</span> and M’lle <span + class="special_name">Augusta</span>, among ‘us humans,’ and among our + four-footed friends ‘of the lower house,’ Ripton, Confidence, Boston, Wagner, + Monarch, Leviathan, Argyle, Black-Maria, Grey-Eagle, Shark, Hedgeford, John + Bascombe, and Monmouth-Eclipse. On the second day of March a new volume + commences; when we hope that this accredited organ of the sporting world, which + has raised the prices of blood-stock in this country beyond all precedent, and + which in its literary and dramatic departments is without a rival in this or any + other country, will take a long lease of a healthful existence, and go on + ‘prospering and to prosper.’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">The</span> reader will be amused we think with the + ‘<i>Veritable Sea-Story</i>,’ told by our friend <span class="special_name">Harry + Franco</span>, in a species of poetry run mad, in preceding pages. He writes us: + ‘I send you an epic poem for the <span + class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, founded on facts within my own + personal experience. I mention this lest you should deem it destitute of merit; + for it possesses the greatest merit that any human composition can possess; + namely, truth. And in this respect, if in no other, my poem is beyond dispute + superior to the Iliad and Paradise Lost. However, tastes differ, I am aware; and + you may possibly prefer those two epics to mine! They are longer, it is true; + but then I think it will be conceded, even by the critics of the <span + class="special_name">Poh</span> school, that my metre is sufficiently long, even + though my story is short. While others measure their verse by the ‘feet,’ I + measure mine by the yard.’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">D.’s</span> paper, (of Georgia,) so thickly + interlarded with French, and Italian synonymes for far more expressive English + words, reminds us of an old ‘ignorant ramus’ in the country, who was always + eking out his meaning by three or four familiar Latin terms, which he almost + invariably misapplied. He observed one day to a neighbor, who was speaking + disrespectfully of a deceased townsman, ‘Well, he’s gone to be judged. <em>E + pluribus <span class="pagenum"><a id="page203" + name="page203"></a>203</span>unum</em>—‘speak no evil of the dead’—as the Latin + proverb says!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> ‘<i>The New World</i>’ enters upon a new year in a very + beautiful dress, and with renewed attractions in all its internal departments. + Its large clear types, impressed upon good paper, are exceedingly pleasant to + the eye, and what they convey to the reader is equally agreeable to the mind + ‘studious of novelty’ and variety. The success which it deserves, we are glad to + learn it abundantly receives. The ‘<i>Brother Jonathan</i>’ has changed proprietors, + cast its old skin, and comes out as bright and fresh as a June morning. The + versatile Mrs. <span class="special_name">Ann Stephens</span> (a lady of fine + intellect, who has produced better prose tales and home-sketches than any one of + her gifted contemporaries) and Messrs. <span class="special_name">M‘Lachlin and + Snow</span>, the resident editors of the ‘Jonathan,’ discharged their functions + to due public acceptance; but a name so <em>invariably</em> connected with unsuccessful + publications that it has come to be justly regarded as the sure precursor and + inevitable cause of failure, was at the head of the journal as ‘principal + editor;’ and ‘down east’ editorial-ings, transmitted by the yard, and endless + unreadable tales, claiming a kindred paternity, gradually ‘choked its wholesome + growth,’ and finally brought it to a temporary end. The new proprietor however + has wisely declined this ‘principal’ incumbrance; and having secured the + services of an able editor in the person of <span class="special_name">Henry C. + Deming</span>, Esq., a gentleman of high literary distinction, and of popular + correspondents, the journal is already, as we learn, rejoicing in a + rapidly-enhancing list of subscribers. Success to thee, ‘<span + class="special_name">Brother Jonathan</span>!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span + class="first_word">The</span> ‘<i>Yankee Trick</i>’ described by our Medford + (Mass.) correspondent is on file for insertion. It is in <em>one</em> of its features + not unlike the anecdote of an old official Dutchman in the valley of the Mohawk, + who one day stopped a Yankee pedler journeying slowly through the valley on the + Sabbath, and informed him that he must ‘put up’ for the day; or ‘if it vash + <em>neshessary</em> dat he should travel, he must pay de fine for de pass.’ It <em>was</em> + necessary, it seems; for he told the Yankee to write the pass, and he would sign + it; ‘<em>that</em> he could do, though he didn’t much write, nor read writin’.’ The + pass was written and signed with the Dutchman’s hieroglyphics, and the pedler + went forth ‘into the bowels of the land, without impediment.’ Some six months + afterward, a brother Dutchman, who kept a ‘store’ farther down the Mohawk, in + ‘settling’ with the pious official, brought in, among other accounts, an order + for twenty-five dollars’ worth of goods. ‘How ish dat?’ said the Sunday-officer; + ‘<em>I</em> never give no order; let me see him.’ The order was produced; he put on his + spectacles and examined it. ‘Yaäs, dat ish mine name, sartain—yaäs; but—<em>it + ish dat <span class="keep_together">d——d</span> Yankee pass</em>!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Our</span> + town-readers, many of them, will remember the bird <span + class="special_name">Mino</span>, who was so fond of chatting in a rich mellow + voice with the customers at the old Quaker’s seed-store in Nassau-street. His + counterpart may at this moment be seen at ‘an hostel’ near by; but the + associations and language of the modern bird are very dissimilar. ‘<em>How are + you?</em>’ is his first salutation; ‘<em>do you smoke?</em>’ his next: ‘<em>What’ll you drink? + Brandy-and water?</em>—<em>glass o’ wine?</em>’ It has a most whimsical effect, to hear + such anti-temperance invitations from the bill of a bird, whose bright eye is + fixed unwinkingly upon you. The Washingtonians should ‘look out for him.’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> + <span class="first_word">The</span> editor of the <i>Albion</i> has issued to his + subscribers a very fine large quarto engraving, in mezzo-tint by <span + class="special_name">Sadd</span>, of <span class="special_name">Heath’s</span> + celebrated line-engraving of <span class="special_name">Washington</span>. Its + size is twenty by twenty-seven inches, and represents the <span + class="special_name">Pater Patriæ</span> in his most elevated character; that of + a Chief Magistrate elevated by the free suffrages of his countrymen, after + having voluntarily laid down his military authority. This print cannot fail to + be acceptable to every reader of the Albion, unless he shall be too + narrow-minded to honor true nobleness and dignity of character in one who by + force of circumstances once stood in a warlike relation to his country. Apropos + of the ‘Albion:’ is our friend the Editor aware that ‘<em>The Evening before the + Wedding</em>,’ published as original in a late issue, was translated for the <span + class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>? <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> ‘<span + class="first_word">Oh</span> dem! dem!’ There is on the <i>tapis</i> a new daily + journal, to be called ‘<span class="special_name">The Exclusive</span>,’ which + is to be the very antithesis of every thing in the ‘cheap and vulgar’ line; no + slanders, no crim. con.’s, no horrible accidents; ‘no nothing’ of that sort. The + affair is already creating some excitement among the <i>beau-monde</i>. The reputed + editors are literary men of the world, who <span class="pagenum"><a id="page204" + name="page204"></a>204</span>‘know their way.’ Circulars in gold-edged and + perfumed paper are already flying about. <i>On dit</i>: that the carriers are to be + dressed in uniform, and deliver the paper in white kid gloves; that pastiles are + to be kept burning in the publication-office, to disinfect the air of the room + of ink and damp sheets; and that only those of the first respectability and + acknowledged standing in gay society, are permitted to subscribe to or receive + the journal at all! <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Here</span> is a rich + specimen of <em>clerical catachresis</em>, which we derive from an eastern + correspondent: ‘Our good dominie gave us on Sunday a sermon on the ocean; its + wonders, its glories, its beauties; its infinity, its profundity, its + mightiness, etc., ‘But,’ said he, ‘what is all this? <em>It is but a drop in the + bucket of God’s infinity!</em>’ I wonder what is outside of it!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">It</span> is not the + wont of the Editor of this Magazine, as those of its readers who have followed + us through twenty-two volumes of the <span + class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> can bear witness, to trumpet in its + pages the many kind things that are said of us by the public press; but as a + fragment is wanted to fill out this page; as we are just at the commencement of + a new volume; and as we are more than pleased at the cordiality with which the + first number of it has been received; we shall venture to select from a great + number of testimonials one or two for insertion here, which are the more + gratifying, that they evince the regard in which the ‘<span + class="special_name">Old Knick</span>.’ is held at home, and by those who have + known us the longest and most intimately. The <i>New-York Courier and Enquirer</i> + says of our last number:</p> + + + <div class="quotation"> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">This</span> sterling Monthly is always punctual to a + day in its issues, promptly appearing with the dawn of the month, though our + notices of it frequently lag sadly behind it. It is yet, however, by no means + too late to say that it enters upon the year ’44 and its twenty-third volume + with ability and zeal unabated, and that it is yet, as it has been heretofore, + by far the handsomest, ablest, and most interesting literary Monthly issued in + this country. Each number contains over a hundred pages, and in the Editor’s + Table alone is often found more matter than the entire body of some of its + rivals contains. It has a long list of zealous correspondents, bound to it not + more by interest than affection, and numbering among them the most gifted and + distinguished writers in the country. The ‘Quod Correspondence,’ a novel which + is running through the successive numbers, is one of the best works of the kind + ever written; its scenes possess a deep dramatic interest, and throughout the + whole, moral principles are clearly and powerfully evolved. ‘The Idleberg + Papers’ is the general title of another capital series, and the work is + otherwise filled with excellent prose and generally good poetry. The ‘Editor’s + Table’ is by far the most racy and entertaining collection of anecdotes, + humorous and pathetic passages, slight criticisms, etc., to be met in any + magazine. We cordially commend the old and excellent <span + class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> to the continued love and patronage of + the public.’</p> + + + </div> + + + <p>The <i>Evening Post</i> bestows upon the number praise equally warm and cordial. It + adverts to its typographical appearance, with the remark that ‘it is beautifully + printed; that even those parts which are put in the smallest characters are so + distinctly impressed that the dimmest eyes may read them.’ It lauds especially + the article on ‘Descriptive Poetry,’ the ‘Idleberg Papers,’ the ‘Sketches of + East Florida,’ and some of the poetry; and the editor, <span + class="special_name">William Cullen Bryant</span>, Esq., is kind enough to add, + that ‘no part is better than the Editor’s Table, which presents as excellent a + Salmagundi as was ever served up.’ We scarcely dare claim to have <em>earned</em> these + high encomiums; but we are anxious to evince to our subscribers, and especially + to those new friends (and <em>their</em> friends) who have begun the year with us, that + we shall spare no pains to <em>deserve</em> them. It will be our constant aim not only + to <em>maintain</em> the reputation which the <span + class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> now sustains, but in return for the + <em>affection</em> with which it seems to be every where regarded, and the liberal + patronage which it has always retained, and which is now generously increased by + our friends, to <em>enhance</em> it by every means in our power. But, to make use of + two French words which have never before been quoted in America, to our + knowledge—‘<i>Nous Verrons!</i>’</p> + </div> + </div> + <div class="ed_table_item"> + <p>⁂ <span class="first_word">Owing</span> to an unlucky accident, at a late hour, a + ‘<span class="special_name">Literary Record</span>’ of several excellent + publications, from the following houses in Philadelphia, New-York, and Boston, + is unavoidably omitted from the present number. The ‘copy,’ however, of the + notices is preserved, and they will appear in our next: <span + class="special_name">Lea and Blanchard</span>, <span class="special_name">R. P. + Bixby and Company</span>, <span class="special_name">M. W. Dodd</span>, <span + class="special_name">Harper and Brothers</span>, <span + class="special_name">Wiley and Putnam</span>, <span class="special_name">J. and + H. G. Langley</span>, <span class="special_name">D. Appleton and Company</span>, + <span class="special_name">George G. Channing</span>, <span + class="special_name">J. Winchester</span>, <span class="special_name">James + Munroe and Company</span>, <span class="special_name">B. G. Trevett and + Company</span>, <span class="special_name">Mark H. Newman, Stanford</span>, + <span class="special_name">Swords and Company</span>, <span + class="special_name">Lindsay and Blackiston</span>, <span + class="special_name">Morris</span>, <span class="special_name">Willis and + Company</span>. In a similar category are some half dozen subsections of + ‘Gossip,’ (including two or three pleasant favors from favorite contributors, + notice of articles received and filed, etc.,) which were in type, and which now + ‘bide their time.’</p> + </div> + </div> + <div id="footnotes"> + <h2 class="title">Footnotes</h2> + <ol class="fnlist"> + <li><p id="fn1"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm1">Return to +text</a></span><span class="first_word">I have</span> unintentionally omitted to +name <span class="special_name">Falconer</span>, who deserves the highest +honors among nautical writers.</p></li> + </ol> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly +Magazine, February 1844, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER *** + +***** This file should be named 19542-h.htm or 19542-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/5/4/19542/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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