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 one, “Down with royalty," though he should couple it with another sentiment, to wit, "God save the King!" 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 beavy 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 plaintive 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. And with it came the trumpets' high fanfare, "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 In times by gone, we feel. The burning tear 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. C—, Virginia. 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, Holy voices ever swelling In a sweet triumphal song, As if from some far off dwelling, E. C. 1848. MUSIC! |be complied with: and I consoled my solitude 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. 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 symphony, and began singing; but, imagine my surprise, when, instead of one of my old favorites, she struck up the refrain— "De boatman dance, de boatman sing, I am a widower of-of-suppose we say of middle age. I have two daughters, one of whom is grown, and the other nearly so. They are 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 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"-_66 "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 66 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. 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, ir. To pro- time to time, I received the most gratifying asceed-it was my most anxious wish that my rlssurances 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 old manners for the occasion. To Richmond I names "Amélie" and "Marguerite." But I solemnly declare, that they were not so bestowed by their sponsors in baptism. gone great changes-reels and country dances, (to say nothing of the grand old minuets) are among the things that were; and the fantastic toes of the rising generation, flourish in figures that would startle the propriety of our good old mothers, could they "revisit the glimpses of the moon." Thank heaven, my own daughters are not much infected with this disease, and I trust, in the seclusion of the country, they may escape further contagion. made my way, in company with our county members, and lost no time in finding out the house, 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 execution—" No more negro melodies," said I to myself, "that touch betokens elegance of a different sort." Alas! I rejoiced too soon. The songs came in due course-but not my songs. First, she "dreamt that she dwelt in marble halls," till all my illusions were most painfully dispelled. Then she was "a Bayadere"-and next a "Bohemian Girl”—and so on, through half a dozen transformations, which appeared to me to smack 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 evidently a vast amount of passion in it, for, in all my life, I never heard such quavering, and trilling, and screaming, and agony, while the keys of the piano groaned and squeaked, as if in the extremest torture. How I endured it all, I cannot tell. My brow was bathed in perspirationmy breath came and went as if I labored under asthma―I feared every instant to see my poor child burst a blood-vessel-and my joy, when she got up safe and sound from the music-stool, swallowed up every other feeling. 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, SONNETS. I. Bell! if that old, exploded creed were true, II. And do they not, dear Bell, in sooth possess, Ah! we at least should yield them sovereignty, AGLAUS. CHANNING.* BY H. T. TUCKERMAN. |ography prepared by his nephew, recounts the few incidents of his career, and gracefully unfolds the process of his growth and mental history. It is seldom that ethical writings interest the Half a century ago, there might have been seen multitude. The abstract nature of the topics threading the streets of Richmond, a diminutive they discuss, and the formal style in which they figure with a pale, attenuated face, eyes of spir- are usually embodied, are equally destitute of itual brightness, an expansive and calm brow, that popular charm that wins the common heart. and movements of nervous alacrity. An abstrac- A remarkable exception is presented in the litetion of manner and intentness of expression de-rary remains of Channing. The simple yet comnoted the scholar, while the scrupulously neat, prehensive ideas upon which he dwells, the tranyet worn attire, as clearly evidenced restricted quil gravity of his utterance, and the winning means and habits of self-denial. The youth was clearness of his style, render many of his producone of those children of New England braced tions universally attractive as examples of quiet by her discipline, and early sent forth to earn a and persuasive eloquence. And this result is position in the world, by force of character and ac- entirely independent of any sympathy with his tivity of intellect. He was baptized into the fra- theological opinions, or experience of his pulpit ternity of Nature by the grandeur and beauty of oratory. Indeed, the genuine interest of Dr. the sea as it breaks along the craggy shore of Channing's writings is ethical. As the champion Rhode Island; the domestic influences of a Pu- of a sect, his labors have but a temporary value; ritan household had initiated him into the moral as the exponent of a doctrinal system, he will convictions; and the teachings of Harvard yield-not long be remembered with gratitude, because ed him the requisite attainments to discharge the world is daily better appreciating the religious the office of private tutor in a wealthy Virginia sentiment as of infinitely more value than any family. Then and there, far from the compan- dogma; but as a moral essayist, some of the more ions of his studies and the home of his childhood, finished writings of Channing will have a permathrough secret conflicts, devoted application to nent hold upon reflective and tasteful minds. books and meditation, amid privations, compara- His nephew has compiled his biography with tive isolation, and premature responsibility, he singular judgment. He has followed the method resolved to consecrate himself to the christian of Lockhart in the life of Scott. As far as posministry. Illness had subdued his elasticity, care sible, the narrative is woven from letters and diashadowed his dreams, and retirement solemnized ries,-the subject speaks for himself, and only his desires. Thence he went to Boston, and for such intermediate observations of the editor are more than forty years pursued the consistent given as are necessary to form a connected whole. tenor of his way as an eloquent divine and pow- Uneventful as these memoirs are, they are inerful writer, achieving a wide renown, bequeath-teresting as revelations of the process of culture, ing a venerated memory and a series of dis- the means and purposes of one whose words courses, reviews and essays, which, with remark- have winged their way, bearing emphatic mesable perspicuity and earnestness, vindicate the sages, over both hemispheres,—who, for many cause of freedom, the original endowments and years, successfully advocated important truths; eternal destiny of human nature, the sanctions and whose memory is one of the most honored of religion and "the ways of God to man." of New England's gifted divines. Sectarian controversy, the duties of the pastoral To Dr. Channing's style is, in a great degree, office, journeys abroad and at home, intercourse ascribable the popularity of his writings; and we with superior minds and the seclusion made ne- are struck with its remarkable identity from the cessary by disease, the quiet of home, the re- earliest to the latest period of his career. A pefining influence of literary taste and the voca- tition to Congress, penned while a student at the tions of citizen, father and philanthropist, occu- University, which appears in these volumes, has pied those intervening years. He died one beau- all its prominent characteristics-its brief sentiful October evening at Bennington, Vermont, tences, occasionally lengthened where the idea while on a summer excursion, and was buried at Mount Auburn. A monument commemorates the gratitude of his parishioners and the exalted estimation he had acquired in the world. A bi requires it-its emphasis, its simplicity, directness and transparent diction. This is a curious evidence of the purely meditative existence he must have passed; for it is by attrition with other minds and subjection to varied influences, that Memoir of William Ellery Channing, with extracts the style of writing as well as the tone of manfrom his correspondence and manuscripts. In three volumes. Boston: William Crosby and H. P. Nichols. Lon-ners undergoes those striking modifications which don: John Chapman. 1848. we perceive in men less intent upon a few VOL. XV-4 |