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Into such a train of reflection is the contem- to come in contact with the material earth, her plative mind at all times liable to be led ! blue eye dancing with the joy of health, peace,
and freedom from that bitter guest experience! XII.
Passon sweet one! Were I as thou my
thoughts would not be now in trembling doubt Methought Niagara above thy whirl I hovered on an angel's airy wings,
upon the slippery verge of deep despair. Secure in Cutting the smoky misis that upward curl,
faith and hope, my heart would rise like holy inAnd yielding me lo dim imaginings.
cense to the gates of heaven, and angels on their “A change came o'er my dreain”-in a small boat
snowy wings of light would bear it weary, sad, to Hurled with the speed of lightening to the brink,
Paradise. I felt my cold heart leap up in my throat,
Pass on dear one! Thy heart is white and pure. I see the boiling hell! I die, I sink! “Awaking with a starl," in elbow chair
No misty sophistries thy thoughts enmesh, for I find myself so warm and softly lying,
thou art moulded in the form of truth, and all I wonder how, ihrough mighty Tracts of air,
thy spirit is unclouded yet with the deep gloom The frolic mind, like rapid rail-car flying,
of the fast coming years. “ Played such fantastic tricks," as school-boy may,
Dear little maid! Would that like thine my Turning and tumbling on a holiday,
heart were clear and every leaflet of its tables Oysters are not the most judicious fare for the smooth from the deep traces of my many sins. evening meal. They frequently superinduce a Pass on in peace, security; for o'er thy head disposition to violent starts in the sleep, caused the guardian angels watch, lest any impious hand by the strange and terrible nature of the indi- should sully what was made so purely fair! vidual's dreams. Our bed-fellow has frequently The author, cap in hand, solicits pardon of the complained of ferocious assaults made upon reader for the above train of reflection which he him in the dead of night, which caused him, as can only defend upon the plea that his pen being he declared, great suffering. Strange to say we new-nibbed ran away like a fiery horse. were, on the next morning, totally unconscious He would further
something seemed of the circumstance.
necessary to restore him to the reader's good Another effect of these edibles is presented opinion after the cold blooded nature of the above in the above. The mind, like the school-boy performance-which he has translated into verse having a holiday, flies away to the ends of the from the original prose overheard by the author. world, to great waterfalls, tremendous chasms, and-so-forth, amusing itself on the way with
XIV. “ turning and tumbling," as expressed in the text.
We had intended to write a dissertation on Before great Balsamo I stand amazed, this subject which, like Urn Burial and other mat
His wondrous tricks I view with dread delight
From that great meeting on the “ Thunder Height," ters which appear barren, is really full of inter
When lion-like be bore the swords that grazed est and capable of a great display of learning His dauntless breast, and showed no sign of fear, and research, but in consideration of the fact To where with Andrée, Rohan, Alibotas he poured that the reader is quite as well versed in the causes The mighty food of crafty thought deep stored and results of the phenomenon, we refrain.
In his great mind to Satan's only peer.
In its degree the storm that round the head
or Louis Philippe roared, the man who sed
Great Alexander in his youthful days-
We really have no pity for the king
Whose crimes provoked this deep, this bitter sting. With joyous spirit caroling a song
Like that which from sweet Pbilomela stealsI feel within my breast a happiness
This, as the reader probably guesses, has referDeeper than fathom line and all my heart
ence to the well-known “Memoirs of a PhysiGoes forth to meet her, for I do confess That little form, so lithely fair, is part
cian,” by M. Dumas, in which he agitates the Of my own being, and lesi Appius
questions which are now agitating Europe and Or any other villian should draw near
presents the world with an account of the sayings To steal the little dove lo me so dear
and doings of the great magician Cagliostro, othHallo! you man there of the ornnibus,
erwise Count Fænix, otherwise Acharat, otherIn one more year that little mad is mine And with her cash it is my fate to shine.
wise Joseph Balsamo. The Count, according to
his story, lived many ages, had seen the revoluHow sweet to see the little maiden of fifteen tions of Egypt, the Lower Empire and other summers tripping along, her satchel upon her countries, and was either a great benefactor or a arm,
her wimple gathered over her sunny locks great scoundrel—which we are not able to say of waving gold, her delicate feet scarce seeming from the confused notions of the age on these
subjects. The work of M. Dumas is, however, And placed his thumb upon the chimney tops.
The trees are turning sere and leafless now, undeniably great in many points, in interest, ex
While downward from each sadly naked bough tent, gallicism and diffusion. The chief feature
The mellow apple in the night-time drops. though, with the exception of a decided leer to
I heard of late a cry, "Old Zack is come !" wards monarchy, is its ultra democracy. The And with it came the trumpets' high fanfare, reader is convinced of the virtues of the people Thrilling the ears; and through the trembling air
The deep-mouthed triumph of the rumbling drum, by a picture of the vices of their rulers, and we
" Old Jack” indeed is come, for look! the pane may say that, taken altogether, the book, if it
Is all o'er crusted with a silver stain ! were readable, would be very striking.
We should do M. Dumas the justice to say, “We should first inquire," says Longinus in his that he declares in his “ Gaul and France,” that first book, " whether in reality there is any art of when the day came he would cry as loud as any sublimity or greatness of conception.” We would one, * Down with royalty,” though he should
say, with modesty, that this question is now decouple it with another sentiment, to wit, “ God cided, and in proof, we would refer the reader to save the King !"
the initiatory verses of this beautiful performance. The pun though, attempted in the latter portion, is execrable; we have no hope of anti
cipating the reader in this opinion. We have Fair Cincinnati ! on Obio's side
only to say in defence, that we have frequently Thou standest in thy beauty all-supreme !
heard the name, Jack or John, pronounced by Glassing thy losty minarets in pride On ibe smooth surface of the gliding stream.
interesting young ladies in a manner which bears The murmuring of the mighty river's voice,
us out most fully. The city's bum wbich rises from below,
He who gives credit to the mysterious coinciThe gurgling of the brooklets that rejoice,
dences between the psychological and material The grunting of the sullen boar and sow
universe, will find much matter for thought in the All these are pleasant, for in one I feel,
fact that both of the above celebrated characters The soothing influence of the vesper hour, The gruntings softly o'er my senses steal,
" came" at the same time, and further, that the For they are all-expressive and have power life of the renowned General has been written To make me feel in purse the goody gold
by Mr. John Frost. Or newest bills in heavy masses rolled.
XVII. This place which has received the name of the · Queen City of the West,” is well calculated to
Far on the summit of an Alpine range, inspire the mind of an enthusiastic lover of crea
The setting sun ensolding all his form
His lurid light belokening a storm tion like ourselves.
A figure stood yclad in garments strange! It is further celebrated for a large trade in Por- Around him rose the darkly-verdant palm, kers, which are brought hither by the great Nor- Embowering the grey peak where he stood, thern Canal and slaughtered to make a hecatomb
· And, stretching far below, for many a rood
A streamlet wound now furious, now calm. or sacrifice to the aforesaid queen. The author
The figure raised his arm; I saw his face, has endeavored to combine these two character
All gaunt with hunger, dreary with despair, istics in his production, and if the reader objects Then with bis nails the Serf his breast did tear, to the word " minarets,” he can only say that Cursed the enslavers of his baughty race, Cincinnati, in his humble opinion, has as much
And plunging from the dizzy summits' verge, right to minarets or spires, as Constantinople, or
I saw him sink far down, beneath the surge ! any other abode of unbelieving Mussulmen.
The intention of the author here, is to depict The address is supposed to be delivered by the death of the last of the Aztecs, and if his moonlight, from the hills which embower the
picture is not as striking as Sir Edward Bulwer's city, and the romantic feelings suggested by the
in the death of Warwic the “Kingmaker," on bour and scene, are beautifully subdued by the Barnet field, we would say in extenuation that the thoughts of emolument connected with the plain- life, misfortunes and death of a poor Indian who tive note of the swine. Such are the enjoyments arising from a well
lives for independence and dies when it dies,
cannot naturally compare with that of a great regulated mind!
nobleman who perishes in a heroic attempt to
uphold his usurped authority. XVI.
Cortes was a great man, and his subtil powers The shutters clap, the windows rattle o'er,
of mind are no where shewn more strongly than As if the hand of some old giant dread,
in his last campaigns against the Mexicans. He Such as the valiant Hero whilome bled,
refused to treat with them, he exterminated, for Came from the North with frozen snow, all hoar, he saw at a glance that these were not men to
yield their necks to the man who got upon the throne of their kings. Let the “ Sad night” tell how they fought and—we say it modestly-let the death of the last Aztec tell how they died.
Nevertheless, the poet is not satisfied with his performance, in spite of the self-pleased chuckle which is visible behind this mask of modesty. The curse which from time immemorial it has been the rule to put in the mouths of these characters is wanting. It was further his intention to produce an effect at the same time terrific and touching, upon the reader.
Alas! how often do the endeavors of the best meaning persons end in disappointment!
Maiden! like a fair spring blossom
Thou art in thy dreaming youth. Purest sweets within thy bosom,
Thoughts of tenderness and truth.
On thy cheek are youth's bright roses,
Beauty's light within thine eye, And each radiant glance discloses
Dreams of love and poesy.
Like the poets bigh-wrought dreaming
Is thine image unto me-
A most lovely mystery.
At the mid hour of night, I wake to hear
A low-loned voice of tenderness and love,
Such as the ever moaning turtle dove,
Touched by a master-hand, and o'er the seas
Borne on the swift wings of the flying breeze, Brings yet some dim reflections of that fire Which gilded o'er our youth-a voice most dear
Most learful, full of mournful tenderness,
Such as in places of our happiness,
With a spirit bright and queenly,
Dwelling in thy dreams apart; Listing tranquilly, serenely,
To the music in thy heart.
Holy voices ever swelling
In a sweet triumphal song,
Unseen spirits round thee throng.
The only spot which detracts from the blaze of excellence in this beautiful specimen of thought and feeling, is the unwarrantable appropriation of a sentiment from the writings of a poet called Tennyson, who, before the publication of the ** New Timon,” that “greatest poem of the age,” enjoyed some reputation in England. The
Tell me thou whose song entrances
What sweet thoughts with thee abide ? Love-light dwelleth in thy glances,
In thy smile unconscious pride.
- Tears from the depth of some divine despair ... In looking on the happy Autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more,"
Surely in tbine unstained spirit,
Love must make ita holiest shrine; Veiled hearts like thine inherit
Truth and fervor half divine.
are the lines here alluded to. The only reflection which aids to comfort the author, is that the aforesaid Mr. Tennyson is exceedingly obscured, almost annihilated indeed by the drastic and overwhelming blows of the great writer, upon whose shoulders has fallen the mantle of Shakspeare.
The author of the “Princess' and other pieces, is entirely out of fashion for the time therefore, and to this circumstance is to be attributed the present imitation, which is no longer liable to discovery by the world or redemption by its disconsolate parents.
Thou so bright, so rarely gisted
Child of genius, song and love, Be thy spirit ever listed
Unto holier things above.
E'en while fame's fair laurel wearing,
Cherish still that brighter partMid the world's vain glory bearing
Woman's pure, unsullied heart.
J. R. H.
| be complied with : and I consoled my solitude MUSIC!
with anticipating the delight of hearing my old
hall echo once more with the melody of other “ Rot your Italianos! for my part I likes a simple ballat.” days.
Milly came home. Now, thought I, now shall I desire, Mr. Editor, with your leave, to lay I reap the reward of all my self-denial. I had before the public my deplorable condition, in res- brought home a splendid rosewood piano—half pect of music. This I do partly, I confess, in a dozen octaves or more-it cost me $500. My the hope of being consoled by sympathy; but, daughter sat down to it, and dashed off a brillichiefly, from a benevolent desire to warn others ant prelude, as if to try the tone of the instruagainst the evils, into which I am fallen. ment. Presently, she glided into a lively sym
I am a widower of-of-suppose we say of phony, and began singing; but, imagine my surmiddle age. I have two daughters, one of whom prise, when, instead of one of my old favorites, is grown, and the other nearly so. They are she struck up the refraingood girls, and (in my eyes at least) sensible
" De boatnan dance, de boatman sing, enough, and passably handsome. I have spared
De boalman up to every thing." no pains in their education, nor any expense that my income would allow. Residing in the coun- When she had concluded, I choked down my try, I have compelled myself to forego the so- disappointment, and, with a little compliment, lace of their society, for the last three or four (uttered, I confess, with some difficulty,) I asked years, that they might enjoy the best opportuni- her to play something else. Then followed ties for instruction at the city schools—I beg par- "Dandy Jim of Caroline”—“Lubly gall, can't don—I believe I should say “institutions." Well you come out to-night”—“It'll nebber do, to gib sir, they have passed through the usual routine. it up so, Mr. Brown”_"Old Joe”—“Old Aunt Milly-who is the oldest, graduated some six Sally"--and a score of others, of which (I hearmonths ago: and her sister is now in the last tily thank Heaven) my memory does not retain year of the academic course, which will termi- a distinct impression. In vain, I asked for “ Mary nate, I presume, in the customary diploma. Morrison"_" The Last Rose of Summer," or
My eldest daughter, who has been now some “ Her mouth which a smile.” My poor Milly's time at home, appears to have profited greatly mouth opened with a smile indeed—but it was a by her studies, so far as I can judge. Her ac- smile of compassionate astonishment. She had quaintance with botany, geology, physics, and never heard of them-nobody ever sung such metaphysics—besides some other branches, that old fashioned things. I found my girl was indisI cannot recollect the names of, is the admira- solubly wedded to the Africans, and I groaned tion of the neighbors. For my own part, I get in spirit at the horrid amalgamation. I never lost very often when I try to converse with her; again invited her to the piano–I could not so but my own schooling was very limited, and my desecrate the memories of the past--and, when deficiencies are not to be wondered at. she does entertain visiters in this way, I general
All this is very well, indeed, and I am glad my ly betake myself to the back porch, and a pipe money was laid out to such advantage. But-of tobacco. ah! these buts—there is one particular, in which However, I had a chance left-Maggie had I feel grievously disappointed.
not yet finished her education ; and I determined I bave been all my life a dear lover of music. she should be taught something better than the The mother of my dear children, who is now a recreations of the flat boat and the corn-shucksaint in Heaven, first won my heart, by her de- ing. So, when she returned to school, I adlightful voice. She sung-oh! my dear sir, you dressed a letter to the lady superintendent, in cannot conceive, with what taste and feeling, which I strongly condemned this style of music, the beautiful old English ballads, and the exqui- and begged that she might be instructed in a more site songs from Rosina-And then, the unrivalled refined school. A very satisfactory answer was Scotch and Irish melodies—ah! me, I fancy I sent back. I was told that the former musiccan hear her tones yet vibrating in my ear !- master had been dismissed, and a “ Professor": Alas! I shall never hear them again on earth. employed, of the very highest reputation. From
Excuse my emotion, I pray you, sir. To pro- time to time, I received the most gratifying asceed—it was my most anxious wish that my girls surances of Maggie's rapid improvement. At should be proficients in this charming accom- last, my impatience to hear her became so great, plishment. I besought them to be diligent in that I resolved on a journey to the metropolis. their musical studies, and urged upon their teach- After a long repose of some seventeen years, I ers my extreme solicitude upon this subject. All made ready once more to mingle in the crowd parties promised me that my injunctions should 'of mankind, and brushed up my old clothes and
P.S. NO. 2.- I had forgotten
, in the extrem
old manners for the occasion. To Richmond I names Amélie" and " • Marguerite." But I made my way, in company with our county mem- solemnly declare, that they were not so bestowbers, and lost no time in finding out the house, ed by their sponsors in baptism. where my daughter was placed. As soon as I decently could, after answering her natural in- ity of my grief touching the music, to take notice quiries about home and friends, I requested her of some innovations in the matter of dancing, to take her seat at the piano, which stood in the which rather conflict with my old fashioned opiparlor. She complied with alacrity: and I must nions. I find that names and things have underown that I was delighted with her magnificent
gone great changes-reels and country dances, execution—“No more negro melodies,” said I (to say nothing of the grand old minuets) are to myself, “ that touch betokens elegance of a
among the things that were; and the fantastic different sort.” Alas! I rejoiced too soon. The toes of the rising generation, flourish in figures songs came in due course—but not my songs. that would startle the propriety of our good old First, she “ dreamt that she dwelt in marble halls," mothers, could they “revisit the glimpses of the till all my illusions were most painfully dispelled. moon.” Thank heaven, my own daughters are Then she was a Bayadere”—and next a “Bo- not much infected with this disease, and I trust, hemian Girl”—and so on, through half a dozen in the seclusion of the country, they may escape transformations, which appeared to me to smack further contagion. very strongly of stage costume and foot-lights. Finally, she broke into some outlandish dialect, (which I am told is Italian,) and in which there was a wonderful repetition of “Pizzicas” and
Spasimis,” and “ ardors," "si, si’s” and “trala-las,” absolutely without end. There was evi
SONNETS. dently a vast amount of passion in it, for, in all my life, I never heard such quavering, and trill
I. ing, and screaming, and agony, while the keys of the piano groaned and squeaked, as if in the Bell! if that old, exploded creed were true, extremest torture. How I endured it all, I can- Which made the bright stars arbiters of fate, not tell. My brow was bathed in perspiration- What a long Heaven of bliss might I, and you, my breath came and went as if I labored under And all, who love like us-anticipateasthma-I feared every instant to see my poor For oh! how could they prophesy of wo child burst a blood vessel—and my joy, when Those mild, forgiving stars, that lend their light, she got up safe and sound from the music-stool, Even to the clouds, enshrouding them from sightswallowed up every other feeling.
Like Goodness smiling on a treacherous foeBut when I got to bed that night, I tossed and And through the long, dark night are ever shiningtumbled, in a tumult of uncomfortable reflections. Alike on joy, and hearts in sadness piningI saw plainly that I was lamentably in the rear This life would be a path ornate with flowers, of “the spirit of the age"—Were I twenty years Darkened it may be, by some transient showers, younger, I might hope to overtake it: but, as it But they would be of April; only given, is, I have not strength or courage to attempt the That Earth might not become too much like Hearen. pursuit. I may die—but to “head it” is impossible-I shall submit to my fate-I go home to
II. morrow, and leave my Maggie to finish her career
And do they not, dear Bell, in sooth possess, at school. I shall prepare for the dethronement
One half the power of which old legends tell?of my household gods, and make way for the
An influence to hallow, and to blessjoint dynasty of Ethiopia and Italy. Revolutions never go backward—and the detestable Calypso's wand of love, not Circe's spell ?
Look on them in their beauty, as they shower usurpation must be consummated.
Smiles on each other, light upon the earth, But I solemnly caution my friends, and con
And joy and peace on all of morial birth; temporaries, to take warning by my example, and And then deny them, life, and love, and power. avoid the rocks upon which my music hath suf
Ah! we at least should yield them sovereignty. fered disastrous shipwreck.
For the same stars shone on our natal hour,
An earnest that our hearts may one day be
To bloom and fade together: Sweet, with thee,
December 1st, 1843.}
P. S.-I observe that my daughters write their