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With all his berds around him, and be piped;-
(I thought at times I saw his fingers more,
And caught his music, but I must have dreamed!)
Aud Satyrs danced around, and Dryads peeped
From out the mossy trunks of ancient trees;
And nice-eared Echo mocked him, till he thought
-The simple god-he heard another Pan,
Playing, and wonder shone in his large eyes ! -
I shall behold those pictures never more !-
Ah never more, for I have broke my cap,
Its precious fragments strew the common dust!

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Alas! my goblet! And Jove was pictured on it-Jove himsell, Transforméd for the nonce into a bull, Bearing forlorn Europa through the waves, Leaving behind a track of ruffled foam! A-mort with fear, she held him by the home, Her golden tresses streaming on the winds ! And Cupids sported round on winged dolphins, And sea-gods peeped from out their weedy cares, (The deep was full of wonder-startled faces !) And on the shore were maids with waving scarfs, And hinds a-coming to the rescue-late ! Alack! I shall not see the like again, Since I have broken my delightful cup And cast its precious fragments in the dust!


My quaint Arcadian--and you, my lad,
Perched on the swinging limb-(take care, you'll fall !)
Cease pelting me, you hurt me, let me loose ;
Undo these viny fetters if you please !"
“But no," said they, “we do not please at all ;
Sing us a song and we will set you free."
« What shall I about, mischievous boys ?
I cannot sing, as I was wont to do,
For I have dropped my fute and broke my cup.
I'll sing about my goblet, sit beside me."
They sat beside him, and the faun began.


Alas my goblet!
My goblet was exceeding beautiful!
I never saw its like, and I've seen many,
Pan's is not richer, and it is the gift
Of golden Midas, and he gave it to him,
To shame Apollo at their piping match,
(For which be made his ears as long as mine !)
It was the jewel of my cave; I had
A corner where I hid it, in the moss,
Between the jagged crevices of rock;
I used to drain it twenty times a day,
Pledging the Dryads and the Hamadryads ;
And when a wood-god or a nymph passed by,
I filled it to the brim with bravest wine,
And offered them a draught, and told them Jove
Had nothing richer on Olympus' top ;-
His nectar is not richer than my wine,
Said I, and for my goblet-look at it!
But well-a-day! 'tis broken, my sweet cup;
Its precious fragments strew the common dust!


Alas! my goblet :-
Sometimes my brothers of the wood, the fauns,
Held gay carousals with me in my cave ;-
I had a skin of Chian wine therein,
Whereof I made a feast, and all who drank,-
(I'd like to see the faun, who failed to do it!)-
Made ditties on the figures, and the tales
Engraven on the part their lips had kissed;
But we shall drain the goblet never more,
My brothers of the wood, and never more
Make ditties on it, never, never more !
For I have shivered, broken my sweet cup;
Its precious fragments strew the common dust!


Alas, my goblet,-
Pan was engraven on it, rural Pan,
And all the story of his nymph transformed ;-
He stood in horror, in a marshy place,
Clasping a bending reed; he thought to clasp
Syrinx, but clasped a reed and nothing more!
There was another picture 'graved below it;
Pan, after he had learned to play the flute :-
He learned it by the wind among the reeds,
Solemnly sighing o'er the vanished maid :-
He sat at noon within a shady bower,

Alas! my goblet!
And youthful Bacchus, too, was pictured there ;-
He sat in a green arbor hung with vines,
A loving nymph reclining by his side ;-
His arm was thrown around her slender waist,
His head lay in her bosom, and she held
A cup a little distance from his lips,
And teased him with it, and he wanted it!
A pair of spotted pards were sleeping near,
Couchant in shade, their heads upon tbeir paws,
And revellers were dancing in the woods !
But all is vanished, lost, forever lost !
Wail! Ai! Ai !--my divinest cup,
Earth's paragon, is shivered at my feet,

Ruined and trampled in the worthless Just! The swains unbound the faun, delighted with him ;

gathered up the fragments of his cup And gave them each a piece and went his ways.

- This is the Idyll of the Broken Goblet-
I told you of, when we were wandering
To seek our straying flocks : I've marred it some,
I own in singing :- I am like the faun,
And can not sing as I was wont to do ;-
I have been sleeping—drunken with the wine,
The enchanted and voluptuous wine of Love,
And in my slumber I have dropped my fute
And broken the bright cup of Poesy!
Alas, and I have broken the rich cup

Unwittingly, and trampled under foot
The golden fragments in the dust of Eartb!

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stream, while many more are drawn up on the The Epic Paintings of Thomas Cole. shore. On an elevation beyond these is a clus

ter of wigwams, and a number of Indians dan

cing round a fire. In this picture we have the "His departure has left a vacuity which amazes

first rudiments of society. Men are already and alarms us. It is as if the voyager on the banded together for mutual aid in the chase. In Hudson were to look to the great range of the the canoes, huts, and weapons, we perceive that Catskills, at the foot of which Cole, with a rev- the useful arts have commenced, and in the singerential fondness, had fixed bis abode, and were ing, which usually accompanies the dance of to see that the grandest of its summits had disappeared, had sunk into the plain from our sight. etry. The Empire is asserted, to a limited de

savages, we behold the germs of music and poI might use a bolder similitude ;-it is as if we were to look over the heavens on a starlight even-gree, over sea, land, and the animal kingdom. ing and find that one of the greater planets, Hes- Ages have passed away, and in the second perus or Jupiter, had been blotted from the sky." picture we have the Simple or Arcadian State (Funeral Oration by William Cullen Bryant.

of Society. The time of day is a little before Upon the romantic life of the greatest of Amer- noon, and the season early summer. The "unican Landscape Painters, it is not our province tracked and rude” has been tamed and softened. to discourse, for that task has been assigned to Shepherds are tending their flocks; a solitary a gifted poet and friend of the departed—the ploughman, with his oxen, is turning up the soil; reverend Louis L. Noble ;-; nor do we pur

and in the rude vessels passing into the haven of pose to expatiate upon his beautiful character a growing village, and in the skeleton of a barquo as a man, and his genius as an artist; for that building on the shore, we perceived the comlabor of love has already been accomplished mencement of Commerce. From a rude temby the eminent poet, from whom we have bor- ple on a bill the smoke of sacrifice is ascending rowed our motto. The only idea that we have to the sky, symbolizing the spirit of Religion. in view, is simply to describe the truly Epic pro

In the foreground, on the left hand, is seated an ductions of the late Thomas Cole, for the edi- old man, who, by describing strange figures in fication of those of our readers who have never the sand, seems to have made some goometrical bad an opportunity of examining them. discovery, demonstrating the infancy of Science. In the first place, then, we will turn our atten- On the right hand is a woman with a distaff

, tion to the series of five pictures, entitled “The about crossing a stone bridge ; beside her, a boy Course of Empire.” This work is an epitome of is drawing on a stone the figure of a man with a the life of man, and is conceived and executed in sword; and beyond these, ascending the road, a a manner which must convince the beholder that soldier is partly seen. Under some noble trees, the artist possessed many of the attributes of the in the middle distance, are a number of peasants philosopher, the poet and the Christian. dancing to the music of pipe and timbrel. All In the first picture we have a perfectly wild these things show us that society is steadily proscene of rocks, mountains, woods, and a bay of gressing in its march of usefulness and power. the ocean, reposing in the luxuriance of a ripe

Ages have again passed away, and in the third Spring. The clouds of night are being dissipa- picture we have a magnificent city. It is now ted by the beams of the rising sun. On the

mid-day, and early Autumn. The Bay is now

opposite side of the bay rises a lofty promontory, surrounded by piles of architecture

, temples, colerowned by a singular, isolated rock, which would onnades, and domes. It is a day of rejoicing. ever be a conspicuous landmark to the mariner. The spacious harbor is crowded with vessels, As the same locality is preserved in each picture war-galleys, ships, and barques, their silken sails of the series, this rock identifies it, although the glistening in the sunshine. Moving over a masposition of the spectator changes in the several sive stone bridge, in the foreground, is a triumpictures. The chase being the most character-phal procession. The conqueror, robed in puristic occupation of savage life, in the foreground ple, is mounted on a car drawn by an elephant, we see an Indian clothed in skins, pursuing a and surrounded by captives and a numerous train wounded deer, which is bounding down a nar

of guards and servants, many of them bearing row ravine. On a rock, in the middle ground, pictures and golden treasures. As he is about are other Indians, with their dogs surrounding to pass the triumphal arch, beautiful girls strew another deer. On the bosom of a little river be- flowers in his path ; gay festoons of drapery low are a number of canoes passing down the hang from the clustered columns ; golden tro* Nearly all the matter contained in the following arti- silver censers. Before a Doric temple, on the left,

phies glitter in the sun, and incense rises from cle has already been printed elsewhere, but only in detacbed paragraphs, and never before, in the condensed form in a multitude of white-robed priests are standing

on the marble steps, while near them a religious

which it now appears.

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ceremony is being performed before a number of both of them apparently conscious of being a altars. The statue of Minerva, with a Victory living mockery. The Doric temple and triumin her hand, stands above the building of the phal bridge may still be identified among the raCaryatides, on a columned pedestal, near which ins, which are laved by the waters of the tranis a company of musicians, with cymbals, “trum- quil sea. But though man and his works hare pets also, and shaw ms." From the lofty portico perished, the steep promontory with its isolated of a palace, an imperial personage is watching rock, still rears itself against the sky, unmoved, the procession, surrounded by her children, at- unchanged. Time has consumed the works of tendants and guards. Nations have been subju- man, and art is resolving into its elemental nagated, man has reached the summit of human ture. The gorgeous pageant has passed, the glory. Wealth, power, knowledge, and taste roar of battle has ceased, the multitude has minhave worked together and accomplished the high-gled with the dust, the Empire is extinct. est meed of human achievement and Empire. The first, second, and last of these paintings

Another change—and lo! in the fourth pic- are the best of the series, not only in the poetry ture, the Vicious State, or State of Destruction. they pourtray, but in their execution. The style Behold the consequences of luxury, in the weak- is more varied and natural, and has less the apened and debased condition of mankind. A sav- pearance of paint than many of the artist's later age enemy has entered the once proud and happy productions. As to the third and fourth paintcity; a fierce tempest is raging; walls and col- ings, the conception of both is exceedingly fue onnades are lying in the dust, and temples and and poetical, but they are deficient in execution, palaces are being consumed by the torch of the The architecture is admirably done, but the nuincendiary. The fire of vengeance is swallow-merous figures which it was necessary to introing up the devoted city. An arch of the bridge, duce, are poorly drawn and arranged; and there over which the triumphal procession had before is a feebleness in the effect. It would be, perpassed, has been battered down, and broken pil- haps, too much to ask that an artist should be a lars, ruins of war-engines, and the temporary great painter of scenery, and also a master of bridge which had been thrown over, indicate that the human figure. As a whole, however, the this has been the scene of direst contention. Now Course of Empire is a work of art worthy of there is a terrible conflict on the bridge, whose any nation or any painter. These pictures were insecurity accelerates the horror of the conflict. painted for the late Luman Reed, at a cost of Horses, and men, and chariots, are precipitated eight thousand dollars, but are now the property into the raging waves. War-galleys are con- of the New York Gallery, which institution owe tending ; others in flames; and others still, sink- its existence to Mr. Reed, whose collection of ing beneath the prow of a superior foe. Smoke Pictures formed the foundation thereof. and flames are issuing from the falling and pros- The next work to which we would call the attrate edifices; and along the battlements and in the tention of our readers is called " The Voyage of blocked-up streets the conflict is dreadful indeed. Life.” It is a series of four pictures, allegoriThe foreground is strewed with the bodies of the cally pourtraying the prominent features of man' dead and dying. Some have fallen into the ba- life, viz: childhood, youth, manhood, and old sin of a fountain, tinging the water with blood. age. The subject is one of such universal inter One female is sitting in mute despair over the est, that it were almost impossible to treat it in dead body of her son ; another leaping over a an entirely original manner, but no one can deny battlement, to escape the grasp of a ruffian sol- that the conception of the painter displays a high dier; and other soldiers drag a woman by the and rare order of poetic power. hair down the steps, that form the pedestal of a In the first, we behold the dawn of a summer mutilated colossal statue, whose shattered head morning. A translucent stream is issuing from lies on the pavement below. A barbarous ene- an unknown source, out of a deep cavern in the my has conquered the city; Carnage and De- side of a mountain. Floating gently down the struction have asserted their frightful Empire. stream, is a golden boat, made of the sculptured

The last and most impressive picture of this figures of the Hours, while the prow is formed series is the scene of Desolation. The sun has by the present hour holding forth an emblem of just departed, and the moon is ascending the twi- Time. It is filled with flowers, and on these a light sky over the ocean, near the place where little child is seated, tossing them with his upp the sun rose in the first picture. The shades of raised hands, and smiling with new-born jos, evening are gradually stealing over the shattered he looks upon the unnumbered beauties and gloand ivy-grown ruins of that once great city. A ries of this bright world around him ; while : lonely column rises in the foreground, on whose guardian angel is at the helm, with his wings capital a solitary heron has built her nest, and at lovingly and protectingly extended over the child the foot of it her mato is standing in the water, Love, purity, and beauty emanate like incess

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from the sky, the earth and water, so that the eclipsed that of the earth, and our voyager is safe heart of the gazer seems to forget the world, in the haven of eternal rest. And thus endeth and lose itself in a dream of heaven.

the allegory of Human Life. A few fleeting years are gone, and behold the With regard to the mechanicalexecution of these change! The Stream of Life is widened, and paintings, we consider them not equal to some its current strong and irresistible, but it flows of the earlier efforts of the same pencil. They through a country of surpassing loveliness. The are deficient in atmosphere, and have too much Voyager, who is now a youth, has taken the the appearance of paint. The water in the first, helm into his own hands, and the dismissed angel second and third pictures, is superior, but the perstands upon the shore looking at him with “a spective and atmosphere in the second are maslook made of all sweet accord,” as if he said in terly. In all of them the figures are very fine, his heart, “God be with thee, thoughtless mor- considering the difficulty of managing such petal!" But the youth heeds not his angel, for his culiar characters. In the first we are pleased eyes are now riveted by an airy castle pictured with the simplicity of the composition; in the agaiost the sky, dome above dome, reaching to second, with the variety, there being portrayed the very zenith. The phantom of worldly hap- the elm of England, the plains of Tuscany, the piness and worldly ambition has absorbed the palm of tropic climes, the mountains of Switimagination and eager gaze of the wayward voy- zerland, and the oak of America; in the third, ager, and as he urges his frail bark onward, he with the genius displayed in using the very storm dreams not of the dangers which may await to tell a story; and in the fourth, with the manhim in his way. To the boat, only a few flow-agement of the shadows, and the apparent realers are now clinging, and on closer observation ity of the light from heaven. These pictures we perceive that the castle in the air, apparently were painted for the late Samuel Ward of New so real, has only a white cloud for its foundation, York City, and the price received for them was and that ere long the stream makes a sudden six thousand dollars. During the last year, howtam, rushing with the fury of a maddened steed ever, they were purchased by the American Art down a terrible ravine. The moral of the pic-Union, and distributed among the prizes at their ture it is needless to elucidate.

annual lottery in December. Another change, and lo! the verge of a cata- Duplicates of the above paintings were exeract and a fearful storm. The rudderless bark cuted by Cole, and sold to a gentleman in Cinis just about to plunge into the abyss below, cinnati in the year 1846. while the voyager (now in the prime of man- The last, and in many respects the most imhood) is imploring the only aid, that can avail pressive, of Cole's more ambitious productions, him in the trying hour, that of heaven. Demo- is a series of five pictures entitled The Cross and niacal images are holding forth their temptations the World. The designs or studies for these picin the clouds around him, but he heeds them not. tures were all executed, but owing to the unHis confidence in God supports him, the previ- timely death of the artist, only two out of the ouis agony of his soul is dispelled or subdued, by five were ever finished on a large scale. This a reflection of immortal light stealing through series of pictures constitute a christian poem of the storm, and by the smiles of his guardian an- a high order, and in describing them, we shall gel, visibly stationed in the far-off sky. employ the language of one who has probably

The Voyage of Life is ended, and our voy- studied the entire work more thoroughly than ager, now white with hoary hairs, has reached any other man. The idea is that two youths that point where the waters of time and eternity enter upon a pilgrimage-one to the cross and mingle together—a bold conception, which is the other to the world. finely embodied by the daring genius of the In the first picture the eye of the beholder first painter. The hour-glass is gone, and the shat- strikes the bold termination of a chain of mountered bark is ready to dissolve into the fathom- tains, with craggy peaks lost in the clouds. less waters beneath. The old man is on his The same lofty range is seen through the enknees, with clasped hands and his eyes turned tire series. heavenward, for the greenness of earth is for- To the left, a straight and narrow path takes ever departed, and a gloom is upon the ocean of its way up a rugged gorge, down which there Eternity. But just above the form of our good beams a silvery light from a bright cross in the voyager is hovering his angel, who is about to sky. The path at first leads off through fields of transport him to his home; and, as the eye wan- real flowers, betokening the early part of the ders upward, an infinite host of heavenly minis-Christian life, neither difficult nor uninviting. ters are seen ascending and descending the cloudy In the distance a dark mist, hovering over the steps which lead to the bosom of God. Death track, conceals from the advancing way-farer is swallowed up in life, the glory of heaven has the real difficulties of his journey, and betokens

VOL. XV-45

the sorrows which of necessity befall him. To the perb and costly structure, surmounted by the right, a gracefully winding way leads down into wheel of Fortune. Beneath its dome, a curia gently undulating and pleasant vale. Stretch-Jously-wrought fountain throws out showers of ing forward through delightful landscapes, it gold, which is eagerly caught up by the votaries finally fades away, and leaves the eye to wander below. on to the dim pinnacles and domes of a great city. From the great censers, rising here and there A golden light falls through an atmosphere of above the heads of the multitude, clouds of inrepose, and lends warmth, softness, and beauty, cense roll up and wreath the columns of the temas well to crag and precipice as to the rich val- ple—a grateful odor to the God. The trees and ley. By-paths, serpent-like, steal up upon the shrubbery of the adjacent grounds are laden with Bunny slopes of the mountain, inviting the trav- golden fruit. eller to the enjoyment of the prospect and the Far distant, in the middle of the picture, a coolness of the waterfall.

vision of earthly power and glory rises upon the Vegetation of unnatural growth, and gorge-view. Splendid trophies of conquest adorn the ous and unreal flowers skirt the borders of the imposing gateway; suits of armor, gorgeous banway.

ners, and the victor's wreath. Colonnades and At the foot of the untain stands Evan- piles of architecture stretch away in the vast gelist with the open Gospel. A little in advance perspective. At the summit of a lofty flight of are the waters, symbolical of Baptism. steps stand conspicuous the throne and sceptre.

Two youths, companions in the travel of life, Suspended in the air, at the highest point of huhaving come to the parting of their road, are man reach, is that glittering symbol of royalty, affectionately and earnestly directed to the shi- the crown. Between the beholder and this grand ning cross. While one, through the power of spectacle are armies in conflict

, and a city in truth, enters with timid steps upon his holy pil- fames, indicating that the path to glory lies grimage, the other, caught by the enchantment through ruin and the battle-field. To the corof the earthly prospect, turns his back upon templation of this alluring scene the Pilgrim of Evangelist and the Cross, and speeds forward the World, now in the morning of manhood, i upon the pathway of the world.

introduced. Which of the fascinating objecte In the second picture we have a wild moun- before him is the one of his choice, is left to the tain region pow opening upon the beholder. It imagination of the spectator. The picture sya; is an hour of tempest

. Black clouds envelope bolizes the pleasure, the fortune, and the glors el the surrounding summits. A swollen torrent the world. rushes by, and plunges into the abyss. The In the fourth picture, the Pilgrim, now an old storm, sweeping down through terrific chasms, man on the verge of existence, catches a first flings aside the angry cataract, and deepens the view of the boundless and eternal. The temhorror of the scene below. The Pilgrim, now pests of life are behind him; the world is be in the vigor of manhood, pursues his way on the neath his feet. Its rocky pinnacles

, just rising edge of a frightful precipice. It is a moment of through the gloom, reach not up into his brightimminent danger. But gleams of light from the ness; its sudden mists, pausing in the dark obsexshining cross break through the storm, and shed rity, ascend no more into his serene atmosphere. fresh brightness along his perilous and narrow He looks out upon the infinite. Clouds—embodipath. With steadfast look, and renewed cour- ments of glory, threading immensity in countless age, the lone traveller holds on his heavenly pil- lines, rolling up from everlasting depths-cars grimage.

the vision forward toward the unapproachable The whole symbolizes the trials of faith. light. The Cross, now fully revealed, pours is

In the third picture the beholder looks off upon effulgence over the illimitable scene. ' Angels an expanse of tranquil water. On the right are from the presence, with palm and crown of inthe gardens of pleasure, where the devotees of mortality, appear in the distance, and advanes sensual delights revel in all that satiates and to meet him. Lost in rapture at the sight, the Near a fountain, whose falling waters Pilgrim drops his staff

, and with uplifted hands lull with perpetual murmurs, stands a statue of sinks upon his knees. the goddess of Love. An interminable arcade, In the last picture, desolate and broken, the with odorous airs and delicious shade, invites to Pilgrim, descending a gloomy vale

, pauses the quiet depths of a wilderness of greenery and last on the horrid brink that overhangs the outer flowers. A gay throng dances upon the yielding darkness. Columns of the Temple of Mamuos turf, around a tree, to the sound of lively music. crumble ; trees of the gardens of pleasure moulder Near an image

of Bacchus, a company enjoys a on his path. Gold is as valueless as the disk luxurious banquet.

with which it mingles. The phantom of glory, On the left is the Temple of Mammon, a su-la baseless, hollow fabric—fits under the wing er


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