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! XII. Methought Niagara above thy whirl I hovered on an angel's airy wings, Cutting the smoky mists that upward curl, And yielding me to dim imaginings. "A change came o'er my dream"-in a small boat I find myself so warm and softly lying, blue eye dancing with the joy of health, peace, and freedom from that bitter guest experience! Pass on sweet one! Were I as thou my thoughts would not be now in trembling doubt upon the slippery verge of deep despair. Secure in faith and hope, my heart would rise like holy incense to the gates of heaven, and angels on their snowy wings of light would bear it weary, sad, to Paradise. Pass on dear one! Thy heart is white and pure. No misty sophistries thy thoughts enmesh, for thou art moulded in the form of truth, and all thy spirit is unclouded yet with the deep gloom of the fast coming years. Dear little maid! Would that like thine my heart were clear and every leaflet of its tables smooth from the deep traces of my many sins. Pass on in peace, security; for o'er thy head the guardian angels watch, lest any impious hand should sully what was made so purely fair! The author, cap in hand, solicits pardon of the reader for the above train of reflection which he can only defend upon the plea that his pen being new-nibbed ran away like a fiery horse. Oysters are not the most judicious fare for the evening meal. They frequently superinduce a disposition to violent starts in the sleep, caused by the strange and terrible nature of the individual's dreams. Our bed-fellow has frequently complained of ferocious assaults made upon him in the dead of night, which caused him, as he declared, great suffering. Strange to say we were, on the next morning, totally unconscious He would further say that 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 "turning and tumbling," as expressed in the text. We had intended to write a dissertation on this subject which, like Urn Burial and other matters which appear barren, is really full of interest and capable of a great display of learning and research, but in consideration of the fact that the reader is quite as well versed in the causes and results of the phenomenon, we refrain. XIII. As down the street she gaily trips along, Her small feet twinkling like revolving wheels, With joyous spirit caroling a song Like that which from sweet Philomela steals— I feel within my breast a happiness Deeper than fathom line and all my heart Or any other villian should draw near XIV. Before great Balsamo I stand amazed, His wondrous tricks I view with dread delight # To where with Andrée, Rohan, Althotas he poured We really have no pity for the king Whose crimes provoked this deep, this bitter sting. This, as the reader probably guesses, has reference to the well-known "Memoirs of a Physician," by M. Dumas, in which he agitates the questions which are now agitating Europe and presents the world with an account of the sayings and doings of the great magician Cagliostro, otherwise Count Fenix, otherwise Acharat, otherwise 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, undeniably great in many points, in interest, extent, gallicism and diffusion. The chief feature though, with the exception of a decided leer towards monarchy, is its ultra democracy. The reader is convinced of the virtues of the people by a picture of the vices of their rulers, and we may say that, taken altogether, the book, if it were readable, would be very striking. We should do M. Dumas the justice to say, that he declares in his "Gaul and France," that when the day came he would cry as loud as any Down with royalty," though he should couple it with another sentiment, to wit, "God save the King!" one, XV, Fair Cincinnati! on Ohio's side Thou standest in thy beauty all-supreme! Glassing thy lofty minarets in pride On the smooth surface of the gliding stream. The murmuring of the mighty river's voice, The city's hum which rises from below, The gurgling of the brooklets that rejoice, The grunting of the sullen boar and sowAll these are pleasant, for in one I feel, The soothing influence of the vesper hour, The gruntings softly o'er my senses steal, For they are all-expressive and have power To make me feel in purse the goody gold Or newest bills in heavy masses rolled. This place which has received the name of the "Queen City of the West," is well calculated to inspire the mind of an enthusiastic lover of creation like ourselves. It is further celebrated for a large trade in Porkers, which are brought hither by the great Northern Canal and slaughtered to make a hecatomb or sacrifice to the aforesaid queen. The author has endeavored to combine these two characteristics in his production, and if the reader objects to the word "minarets," he can only say that Cincinnati, in his humble opinion, has as much right to minarets or spires, as Constantinople, or any other abode of unbelieving Mussulmen. The address is supposed to be delivered by moonlight, from the hills which embower the city, and the romantic feelings suggested by the hour and scene, are beautifully subdued by the thoughts of emolument connected with the plain tive note of the swine. Such are the enjoyments arising from a wellregulated mind! XVI. The shutters clap, the windows rattle o'er, And placed his thumb upon the chimney tops. "We should first inquire," says Longinus in his first book, "whether in reality there is any art of sublimity or greatness of conception." We would say, with modesty, that this question is now decided, and in proof, we would refer the reader to the initiatory verses of this beautiful performance. The pun though, attempted in the latter portion, is execrable; we have no hope of anticipating the reader in this opinion. We have only to say in defence, that we have frequently heard the name, Jack or John, pronounced by interesting young ladies in a manner which bears us out most fully. He who gives credit to the mysterious coincidences between the psychological and material universe, will find much matter for thought in the fact that both of the above celebrated characters "came" at the same time, and further, that the life of the renowned General has been written by Mr. John Frost. XVII. Far on the summit of an Alpine range, Embowering the grey peak where he stood, All gaunt with hunger, dreary with despair, The intention of the author here, is to depict the death of the last of the Aztecs, and if his in the death of Warwic the "Kingmaker," on picture is not as striking as Sir Edward Bulwer's Barnet field, we would say in extenuation that the life, misfortunes and death of a poor Indian who lives for independence and dies when it dies, cannot naturally compare with that of a great nobleman who perishes in a heroic attempt to uphold his usurped authority. Cortes was a great man, and his subtil powers of mind are no where shewn more strongly than in his last campaigns against the Mexicans. He refused to treat with them, he exterminated, for 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! XVIII. At the mid hour of night, I wake to hear Touched by a master-hand, and o'er the seas TO SUSAN. 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 high-wrought dreaming With a spirit bright and queenly, 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 "Tears from the depth of some divine despair... In looking on the happy Autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more," 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. Holy voices ever swelling In a sweet triumphal song, Unseen spirits round thee throng. Tell me thou whose song entrances Surely in thine unstained spirit, Love must make its holiest shrine; Veiled hearts like thine inherit Truth and fervor half divine. Thou so bright, so rarely giftedChild of genius, song and love, Be thy spirit ever lifted 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. C Virginia. E. C. 1848. J. R. H. Rot your Italianos! for my part I likes a simple ballat." days. I desire, Mr. Editor, with your leave, to lay before the public my deplorable condition, in respect of music. This I do partly, I confess, in the hope of being consoled by sympathy; but, chiefly, from a benevolent desire to warn others against the evils, into which I am fallen. Milly came home. Now, thought I, now shall I reap the reward of all my self-denial. I had brought home a splendid rosewood piano-half a dozen octaves or more-it cost me $500. My daughter sat down to it, and dashed off a brilliant prelude, as if to try the tone of the instrument. Presently, she glided into a lively symI 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 refrain good girls, and (in my eyes at least) sensible enough, and passably handsome. I have spared no pains in their education, nor any expense that my income would allow. Residing in the country, I have compelled myself to forego the solace of their society, for the last three or four years, that they might enjoy the best opportunities for instruction at the city schools-I beg pardon-I believe I should say "institutions." Well sir, they have passed through the usual routine. Milly-who is the oldest, graduated some six months ago and her sister is now in the last year of the academic course, which will terminate, I presume, in the customary diploma. "De boatman dance, de boatman sing, 1 When she had concluded, I choked down my disappointment, and, with a little compliment, (uttered, I confess, with some difficulty,) I asked her to play something else. Then followed "Dandy Jim of Caroline"- Lubly gall, can't you come out to-night"—"It'll nebber do, to gib it up so, Mr. Brown"-" Old Joe”—“ Old Aunt Sally"-and a score of others, of which (I heartily thank Heaven) my memory does not retain a distinct impression. In vain, I asked for "Mary 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; but my own schooling was very limited, and my deficiencies are not to be wondered at. 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 I feel grievously disappointed. again invited her to the piano-I could not so desecrate the memories of the past-and, when she does entertain visiters in this way, I general However, I had a chance left-Maggie had not yet finished her education; and I determined I have 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 But I old manners for the occasion. To Richmond Inames "Amélie" and "Marguerite." 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 P. S. No. 2.-I had forgotten, in the extremdecently 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 "Bonot 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. 66 SONNETS. 1. very strongly of stage costume and foot-lights. But when I got to bed that night, I tossed and tumbled, in a tumult of uncomfortable reflections. I saw plainly that I was lamentably in the rear of "the spirit of the age"-Were I twenty years younger, I might hope to overtake it: but, as it is, I have not strength or courage to attempt the pursuit. I may die-but to "head it" is impossible-I shall submit to my fate-I go home tomorrow, and leave my Maggie to finish her career at school. I shall prepare for the dethronement of my household gods, and make way for the joint dynasty of Ethiopia and Italy. Revolutions never go backward-and the detestable usurpation must be consummated. But I solemnly caution my friends, and contemporaries, to take warning by my example, and avoid the rocks upon which my music hath suffered disastrous shipwreck. I am sir, very truly yours, Like Goodness smiling on a treacherous foe And through the long, dark night are ever shining- II. And do they not, dear Bell, in sooth possess, Ah! we at least should yield them sovereignty, AGLAUS. |