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XLVIII. All standing, like a crown upon the giant,
Dian looked on: she saw her spells completing, Titanic bill; the Goddess like a gleam
And sighing, bade the sweetest nightingale of light in Poet's dream ;
That ever in Carian vale The swimming youth, whose beauty seemed defiant Sang to her charms, rise and with softest greeting, Of Saturn's touch, floating like one asleep,
Woo from its mortal dreams and thoughts of clay Along the rippling deep.
Endymion's soul away.
Endymion wondering, struggled; never dreaming Deeper in shadow as he neared the strand.
What hushed his senses--when a burst of song He touched the mossy land
Swept like a stream, along And stood erect, when, with a heavenly greeting, The enchanted air, flooding the lakelet gleaming The flowers unclosed their buds, and fragrance meet With liquid light, and sinking in his ears For Gods rose at his feet.
'Till his eyes swam with tears. XLI.
L. Around the mount it rose, an odor fairer
He saw no more; those bright orbs shut: entrancing, Than ever mortal flowers had known before
Dim, indistinct, but loveliest shadows slid From the lake's lillied shore
Beneath each fringéd lid ! From the thick grass-diviner, richer, rarer
Music was in his heart, his pulses dancing, Than even the mellow light, its vapory chains
Like Nereids to a shell; and violet sleep
Took him in gentlest keep.
He lay in dreams along the odorous blooms,
When, from the willow's glooms, Shadowed her still, nor could he hear her sighing
Her rosy zone unhound, her large eyes drinking For the low ripple of the lake that played
Rapturous joy, with softest love entranced,
Dian in light advanced.
Like the freed soul when death's last pang is over, When the dirn-day is drawing to its close,
Standing contemplating the breathless clay Floating around him, flows
Before she soars away A cadence, gentle as though it were muttered
Through starry spheres, so Dian o'er her lover, A mile or more away,-“ Endymion, why
Wreathed with the mist purpureally bright,
Stood, trembling with delight.
Endymion stirred; bis bosom swelled, for near it The myriad flowers, but Dian saw he not,
His heaving heart averred there stood the one For darkness veiled the spot ;
He thence should love alone; While all the while the fragrant scent was steeping And though his lips were moreless, still his spirit His brain in luscious languor, leasing him
Spoke with a lute-like voice ringing and clear Toward Lethe dark and dim.
To her secretest ear.
“Divinest Dian, lily-breasted Dian! Long in his memory, weird, and wan, and pale,
Look down on me and bless me with thy love, Rose, and with solemn wail
Thou! that hast round me wove Told how of Old were demons, who had hurried
Such heavenly dreams, that though a simple scion At night from blackest caves, with spells to win
of one thy radiant peers may deem a clod, Mau's erring soul to sin.
I seem to grow a God !"
She glanced above; the curious stars seemed brighter, And paused; then knelt, and murmuring a prayer, Peering with laughing eyes; and whispers crept Rose with a trembling air
From where the wood-lands slept ; And turned to fly again; but now the languor
The flowrets shook; the very night grew lighter; That bound his limbs had so oppressive grown,
The lake seemned smiling at her, 'till her frame He stood like rooted stone.
Tingled and blushed with shame.
She wared her rosy fingers; gently welling Breathed out their very lives--swell over swell
Rose from the lake, the fountain and the ground, In mist along the dell,
A mist which soared around, Ipheaved, like odorous sighs from maidens' bosoms; Shrouding the scene, flowing and floating, swelling While, like a bark, Endymion stood embayed
In fitful forms, wave over wave, on high In fragrance fairy made.
Spirally to the sky.
2 - and.
our hero, but less boldly than before. The dolOrange and amethyst, emerald and yellow,
phin re-appears at his previous hour, and again Crimson and violet, deep and dimly blue
approaches the boy, who, with his comrades, scamAs heaven's delicious hue,
pers to the shore in great alarm. The dolphin, It rose ; and then a cadence sweet and mellow
as if inviting their return, leaps from the water, Swept from it like a lark,—“unveil thine eyes, Endymion-love, arise !"
dives, rolls over and displays various amusing gambols and fantastic evolutions. A similar scene was
exhibited the next and the third and many sucPhiladelphia, April, 1844.
cessive days, till these hardy sea-bred boys began
to be ashamed of their fears. They approach him therefore, swim round hiro, and speak to him. At length they venture to touch him, and then, emboldened by his gentleness, play with him familiarly.
Foreinost among these is our hero, who swimLETTERS OF PLINY THE YOUNGER.
ming up to him, scrambles on his back, and is
borne about over the lake by his sea friend, who FISH STORY; CHRISTIANS, &c.
he thinks has learned to recognize and love him,
and whom he loves warmly in return. Neither (Translated for the Sou. Lit. Mess.)
fears or is feared, and confidence and kindness increase on both sides. Other boys accompany
them, swimming' on either hand, giving advice and TO CANINIUS.
encouragement. And strange to tell, another dolI lately chanced to hear a true story, which is phin attended the first, but as a companion and very like a fiction, and worthy of your own play- spectator merely, for he neither acted like him, nor ful and romantic imagination. I heard it at the permitted such familiarities, but came and went supper table, when many wonderful tales were told with his companion as the boys did with theirs. by various persons present. The story is well It appears farther (what is hardly credible, but as attested—but what cares a poet for authority ? yet true as the rest) that this dolphin, the boys' playmy informant's word is a sufficient voucher even for mate and friend, suffered himself to be drawn out the most scrupulous historian. There is on the upon the beach,* and waxing hot and dry on the coast of Africa a colony called Hippo; and near sand, would roll back into the water. It also apit a small navigable lake, with an estuary proceed-pears that Octavius Avitus, the proconsul's legate, ing from it like a river, through which the sea moved by some weak superstition, poured ointment advances, or recedes with the advancing or rece- over him as he lay; on which the dolphin, Dot ding tide. To this lake persons of every age used to such civilities, and disliking the strange resort to fish, sail or swim, as gain or pleasure odor, bolted hastily into the deep; nor re-appeared urges; and especially boys, who come to seek di- for many days, when he came back apparently version here in play time. Among these, emula- sick and dispirited. His health and strength retion in swimming runs high; and he is victor who turned however, and with them his frolicksome mood leaves both the shore and his competitors far be- and wonted kind offices. Meanwhile, gorerdots hind. In one such contest, a certain boy, more from the neighboring provinces, attended by their intrepid than the rest, ventured forth far in advance suites, came to see the wondrous sight; and their of his comrades. Here he was met by a dolphin, protracted visits seriously impaired the means of this which played round bim in every direction, swim- small commonwealth : and at length the place ming sometimes before, sometimes behind, and itself, once quiet and sequestered, became the scene sometimes on either side. At length the fish passed of crowds and tumulls. To remedy these erils under and took him on his back, then replaced him secret orders were given that the dolphin should in the water, and then taking him up again, first be killed. In what a sublime and pathetic elegy carried the trembling boy out into the deep, but will you celebrate his death! Yet the tale needs afterwards returning, restored him to the land and no addition or embellishment, but requires merely to his wondering companions. The fame of this that the truth be fully told. incident spreads through the colony; and crowds
Farewell. assembling, gaze at the boy as a prodigy, and inquire, hear, and in turn, relate his wondrous * The dolphin of the ancients appears to have been set adventure. Next day they blockade the shore, we call a porpus, -an animal belonging not properly to watching anxiously the sea or whatever resembled fishes, but to the mammalia, all which bare longs co it.* The boys swim as usual, and among them structed for breathing atmospheric air; and therefore
story of this dolphin's having lain upon the beach withou *“ Prospectant mare et si quid est mare simile"-an inconvenience is not absolutely impossible, bowerer affected phrase, referring doubtless to the lake.
probable it may be deemed.
TO THE EMPEROR.
direction, their conventicles were prohibited. In It is part of my religion, my lord, 10 refer all this uncertainty, I deemed it necessary to force questions of difficulty to you; for who can better the truth even by tortures from two maids called resolve my doubts or instruct my ignorance? I deaconesses ;* but I discovered nothing but a dehave never been present when christians were tried, praved and excessive superstition, and therefore, and therefore know neither the character of the delaying the prosecution, I hastened to consult you. offence nor the proper measure of punishment. The subject indeed appears worthy of consultation, have deliberated much whether to make any dis- especially when the number of persons accused is tinction of ages, or to deal with those of tenderest considered; for many of every rank and of both years, as with the more robust; whether pardon
sexes have already been and will be endangered by should be offered to repentance, or whether return
such accusations. Nor has the distemper perfrom error should profit him nothing who has once vaded cities alone, but villages and even country been a christian; whether the name itself detached neighborhoods have been infected. Yet it would from guilt, or goilt cohering with the name, is to seem that the evil is not irrremediable, since it apbe punished. Meantime, with respect 10 those pears that the temples, once almost desolate, bebrought before me as christians, I have pursued the gin to be frequented again, and their solemniserfollowing method. I inquired of them whether vices resumed though long disused, and victims they were christians ; if they confessed it, I re- every where sold, of which, till recently, scarce a peated the question a second and a third time, purchaser could be found. And hence it is easy to threatening punishment; and if they persisted, I conceive what a multitude might be reclaimed if ordered them to be led forth. For I did not doubt a place were given to repentance. that, whatever such confession might imply, their perverse and inflexible obstinacy certainly merited
THE REPLY. punishment. There were others possessed with the same madness, whom, because they are Roman You have pursued the proper course, my Secuncitizens, I have determined to send to the capitol. dus, in declining the cases of those brought before Meantime, many classes of men have incurred the you as christians; for no judicial rule can be given same guilt, for in this, as in other cases, the vicc is having a certain definite scope and applicable unidiffused by opposition and debate. A bill of accu- versally. Make no inquisition for them : if brought sations has been preferred anonymously, containing before you and convicted, let them be punished ; the names of many who denied that they were provided, however, that if any deny themselves or had ever been christians, to prove which, repeat-christians, and make it manifest in actual deed, that ing after me, they invoked the gods, and kneeling is, by offering prayers to our gods, they shall ob
your image, which, for that purpose I had tain pardon by repentance, whatever their forepast ordered to be placed among the statues of the conduct may have been. For the nameless indeities, they worshipped with wine and frankin- former, let no charges made anonymously be heard cense, and, moreover, blasphemed Christ ;-none in any criminal trial; for the precedent is most of which things, it is said, can they ever be com- pernicious, and belongs not to our age.f pelled to do who are christians in reality. I therefore thought it proper to discharge them. Some
*"- ex duabus ancillis quæ ministra dicebantur." of those designated by the informer first confessed
+ In the first book of Tertullian's Apology, amid much themselves christians and then denied it ; others stern and bitter declamation, he thus cominents on this said that they had been formerly, but had since rescript of Trajan.-“ But we find inquisition against us ceased to be, some three years before, others still forbidden ; for when Pliny governed a province, he conearlier , and a few as much as twenty years back. demned certain christians to death and attainted others of
rank, and then, alarmed by the number, inquired of the All these worshipped your image and the statues of the gods, and also cursed Christ. They affirmed, emperor what he should do with the rest ; declaring that, however, that their crime or error consisted solely
besides their obstinate refusal to sacrifice, he had discovered in this, that they were accustomed to assemble on
nothing in regard to their religion, except that they held a stated day before light, and among themselves meetings before day, at which they sung to Christ as to a alternately, to chant a hymn to Christ as to a god,* god, and bound themselves to observe a discipline forhidobliging themselves by oath, not to any crime, but ding murder, adultery, fraud, falsehood and other crimes. to avoid theft, robbery and adultery, and never to
Then Trajın wrote back that this sect should not be searchbreak their faith, or fail to restore a pledge when
ed out, yet punished is brought before him. What a sendemanded. These rites ended, they would disperse,
tence! contradictory by a sort of necessity! He forbids and afterwards reassemble to take food, promiscu
inquisition, as against innocent men, yet directs them to be ously indeed, but inoffensively; and even this they punished as if guilty. He is both clement and cruel, at have ceased to do since my edict, in which, by your by such a dilemma! If guilty, why not search them out ?
once spares and persecutes. Why incur inevitable blame "Carmenque Christo quasi deo dicere secum invicem.” 'If innocent, why not discharge them?"
culty. Even now he informs us that there are probably as Notices of New Yorks.
many Poems circulating privately among his friends as he has been able to glean from all the periodicals in which they, from time to time, appeared."
After quoting “School and School Fellows," The Poetical Works of Winthrop MackworTH “ Eutopia" and®Palinodia,” the writer adds :
PRAED: now first collected; By Rufus W. Griswold-
“And now an old favorite in a different vein, to show that
Praed could write otherwise than in epigrams. We think We confess to a partiality for what in Charles the the following are not generally understood to be his by those Second's reign, were called “copies of verses.
» who admire them: It often happens that in poetry, as in affairs, the
TIME'S CHANGES. “attempt confounds the deed;" in other words, the more effort the less success, the greater the de
“I saw her once--so freshly fair
That, like a blossom just unfolding, sign the more ineffective the execution. Some of
She opened to Life's cloudless air; the most clever stanzas in English Literature have And Nature joyed to view its moulding: been the least premeditated. We are not advoca- Her smile, it haunts my memory yetting that easy writing which has been justly called Her cheek's fine hue divinely glowingthe hardest reading ; but simply maintain that when
Her rosebud mouth-her eyes of jet
Around on all their light bestowing: by culture and native powers, a bard is fitted for
Oh! who could look on such a form, his vocation, the more freely he yields his mind to So nobly free, so softly tender, the inspiration of scenes and events, the happier And darkly dream that earthly storm often will be the result. There has been enough
Should dim such sweet, delicious splendor!
For in her mien, and in her face, of formal and artistical verse of late, to make a
And in her young step's fairy lightness, volume of off-hand rhyme very acceptable. This is Nought could the raptured gazer trace the characteristic of Praed, whose numerous occa- But Beauty's glow, and Pleasure's brightness. sional poeins have just been collected and arranged by thai indefatigable literary purveyor, Rufus W.
“ I saw her twice-an altered charm
But still of magic, richest, rarest, Griswold, and published in an elegant volume, by
Than girlhood's talisman less warm, Henry G. Langley of New York. Every one is
Though yet of earthly sights the fairest : familiar with Praed's vivacious epistles, half-fri- Upon her breast she held a chuld, volity, and half-sentiment, yet withal so very natu
The very image of its mother; ral. To these are added "Lillian" and three or four
Which ever to her smiling smiledother fanciful poems, remarkable for curious inven
They seemed to live but in each other :
But matron cares, or lurking wo, tion, and overflowing both with humor and pathos. Her thoughtless, sinless look bad banished, It is not requisite for a reader to be either imagina- And from her cheek ibe roseate glow tive or enthusiastic, to admire Praed. He appeals Of girlhood's balmy morn had vanished;
Within her eyes, upon her brow, to our every-day capacities, and entertains the man
Lay something softer, fonder, deeper, of the world not less than the romantic school girl.
As if in dreams some visioned wo Of this work, the New York Tribune, whose feu- Had broke the Elysium of the sleeper. illeton, as it were, often contains what is well worth adopting, thus highly speaks :
"I saw her thrice-Fate's dark decree
In widow's garments had arrayed her, " 'The Editor and Publisher have here done the public a Yet beautiful she seemed to be, real service. Especially those who with us were boys fif
As even my reveries portrayed her; teen to twenty years ago and in their leisure hours, hung
The glow, the glance had passed away, enraptured over the pages of the British Reviews and
The sunshine, and the sparkling glitter; Magazines, then radiant with the scintillations of Genius
Still, though I noted pale decay, from the pens of_MACAULAY, JEFFREY, LAMB, Hunt,
The retrospect was scarcely bitter; Hood, Hazlitt, PRAED, MAGINN, Mrs. Hemans, Miss
For, in their plare a calmness dwelt, LANDON, &c. and whose meroory still treasures the delight
Serene, subduing, soothing, holy; with which they first quaffed the sparkling wit of Lillian,'
In feeling which, the bosom selt the • Every Day Character,' • Palinodia,' •Twenty-Eight
That every louder mirth is follyand Twenty-Nine,' &c., &c., will thank them fervently. In
A pensiveness, which is not griei, the way of epigrammatic point and richness, pleasant satire, A stillness—as of sunset streamingand quiet humor, varied by occasional flashes of true poetic
A fairy glow on flower and leaf, feeling, English Literature has scarcely a superior to Till earth looks like a landscape dreaming. Praed.
“Of Praed personally little can be added to what his readers will have inferred from his Poems. He was born
“ A last time—and unmoved she lay,
Beyond Life's dim, uncertain river, in or near London, of an opulent and respectable family;
A glorious mould of fading clay, he was first educaled at Eton, with John Moultrie, H. N.
From whence the spark had fled for ever! Coleridge, and other boys of future eminence, where he was principal editor of The Etonian,' one of the best Col
I gazed - my breast was like to burstlege Magazines ever published. From Eton he went to
And, as I thought of years departed,
The years wherein I saw her first, Cambridge, where he ran a brilliant career, winning many of the honors of that renowned University, On leaving
When she, a girl, was lender-heartedTrinity College he was connected with Macaulay and other
And, when I mused on later days,
As moved she in her matron duty, young men of rare talent in the conduct of Knight's Quarterly Magazine.' After the discontinuance of that
A happy mother, in the blaze work, he wrote for the New Monthly and the Annuals, and
of ripened hope, and sunny beauty
I felt the chill-I turned asidewas in Parliament, and deerned a rising member for some
Bleak Desolation's cloud came o'er me, years before his death, which occurred July 15th, 1839.
And Being seemed a troubled lide, His age was about 40, and he died a bachelor. No collec. tion of bis works has ever been made in England, owing,
Whose wrecks in darkness swam before me!" we understand, to some dispute respecting the copy-right; and to the industry and taste of Mr. Griswold is the public
The general resemblance between this and a indebted for a most delightful book, of which the materials much and deservedly admired song of Haynes were widely scattered, and only to be obtained with diffi-'Bayly is almost too striking to be a mere coinci
dence. That great Lyrist, however, deserves no reasons; unless the remaining works of Seatsfield should little praise for his exquisite condensation and em- greatly enhance his claims. bodiment of these lines of Praed. Besides the gene- North and South," by the same author, has been transral similarity, there are some features of special lated by J. T. Headley, Esq., and either has been, or soon resemblance."
will be issued. From what we know of Mr. H., we are Another work issued by the same publishers, prepared for a better translation than that of “Life in the commends itself on different grounds from Praed's. New World," which a friend of ours denied that We allude to the Poems of Mrs. Ellis. The Prose ever written in German. works of this lady are very popular, and among the most useful of the day.. The present and last YOUNG KATE; OR THE RESCUE. volume comprises her fugitive poetry.
By a Kentuckian. Harper and Brothers. 1844. is neither bold nor original, but pure, religious and calm. Her admirers will greet these effusions
We do not pretend to judge of this work solely upon its with cordiality.
abstract merits ; for we would not, if we could, destroy
that medium of State pride and respect for its excellent SEATSFIELD.
author, through which we view it. The scene is laid prin"Life in the New World,” translated from the German, by cipally in Western Virginia, which was then comparatively Hetbe and Mackay. New-York, J. Winchester & Co. unseuled. The various classes of its inhabitants are well
depicted, and the romantic and sublime scenery of the New
River graphically described. The wild hunter, the VirSince the notice of this Germanico-American author in
ginia gentleman, the land-shark, the murderous squatter, oor last number, we have bad a better opportunity of forming a correct estimate of his merits. They seem to have the counterfeiter, the delicate maiden, the daring youth, are been greatly overrated; and some of our journals have tion. The work by no means lacks incident, but there is
all portrayed and linked together by chains of pleasing ficmisled the public taste. It requires considerable patience to read some portions of his American sketches; there is great want of artistical skillin interweaving and combining
in plot and counterplot. a general indistinctness in his narrations, and a confusion
Mr. Ballenger, a broken merchant of Alexandria, retires in his dialogues. We have already stated, that there was
to his wild lands in Kanawba, which bis debtors have given eonsistency in his characters; but he is almost entirely him as his security. Of their value he is entirely ignorant ; destitute of the high but necessary faculty of grouping the and Isaac Foster, a general land agent, much confided in, various parts and personages of the scenes which he under- forms a deep plot to defraud him of them, and at the same takes to portray. Many of the incidents which he uses as time, pays his addresses to an only daughter, betrothed characteristic of American Society, are not only not new to us, but have been told and retold, in prose and verse, and to a young Virginian, then in Europe. Foster is in league orally ; often in far better style. This is particularly the with a gang of counterfeiters, who greatly annoy an honest case with some of his hits at the Yankees. Who has not Ben Bramble, a hunter, tries to excite Mr. B.'s suspicions
pedler, that sold his wares in that section. The faithful beard of the impossibility of getting a direct answer from of Foster, but Foster's insinuating address in great meaJonathan? Many a better illustration of this has been given than in Seatsfield; and yet the evasions of the Yankee, sure allays them. Before Mr. B., however, closes the de#kom Howard and Richards met one night, in the West, neighboring State of Kentucky, with letters to some of his
sired contract with Foster, he despatches his son into the have been quoted as something superior. There is a story friends, to inquire into the value of his extensive lands. of a Yankee pedler, who hired a negro to let a box fall or He is hospitally entertained by a Mr. Hugh Terrell, (who, his leg, that the pedler might recommend his unrivalled Salve, by instantly curing it. The pretended groans of cuffie we learn from the Louisville Journal, is Hubbard Taylor, and the whole scene are ndiculous, not ludicrous. This one of our own ancestry,) from whom he obtains much same pedler is to be found in one of the works of the dis. valuable information. He ascertains that the value of the tinguished Southern Novelist, Mr. Simins. In Guy
lands is enormous, makes sales, which greatly relieve the Rivers," he is called Jared Bunce; in Seatsfield, Jared pressing necessities of his father, and elate with joy, returns Bundell-scarcely a change of name. Besides, Bunce and to his home, unconscious of the danger that had threatened Bandell both cheated the gond people with their worthless his life, from one of Foster's bailled emissaries. In the coffee-pots, and, by a strange coincidence, assign the same
mean time Foster's suit is rejected; the pedler become still reason for their worthlessness . (Life in New World, part Ballenger, and the circumstances are so strong that Mr. B.
more troublesome, is suddenly slain nearthe residence of Mr. 2, p. 61-5. Guy Rivers, vol. 1, 3rd edition, p. 71.)
His Seatsfield is said to be a "native American.” He is is arrested and imprisoned for trial, ät Lewisburg. certainly much indebted to our native writers, and a greater
daughter left alone and disconsolate, wanders on the brink part of his skill is shown in destroying the traces of those of the river, where her shoe is found, and at the same time upon whom he has laid his hands. He borrows the general old Tom, a favorite with the reader, is almost crazed with
her honnet seen floating on the stream. The faithful negro, air of bis sketches of the early French settlers in the S. West, from Judge Hall's popular writings. He is essen
grief. He dives in the relentless waters until he is extially light and sketchy, not creative. There is some force hansted, but finds no body. William returns, learns this and impersonation in his descriptions. But they remind dread intelligence, hastens to the arı.3 of his father. He one of the liberty which former European writers have is soon on his way to old Virginia, where he employs Mr. taken in the wild forests of America, when they wished to trial arrives; and the prisoner is arraigned. The witnesses
Wickham and other eminent counsel. The time for the indulge their imaginations in their Rousseau-like admi. ration of Nature.
are sworn and examined and the fate of the accused seems Our public have never been so favorably prepared for the of her father; and soon after, she is folded in the embrace
sealed. Just then, the lost daughter rushes into the arms advent of any Literary worthy, as that of Seatsfield; except of her constant lover. The character and designs of Foster the propria persoa reception of the • American Notes." The public admiration of the former is likely to be checked,
are exposed-he is branded as the murderer. He had instias it was in the case of the latter, though from far different gated a reckless, but not abandoned youth, to strike the
honest pedler, for charging him with circulating counterfeit *"She wore a wreath of roses."
money. The young man was drunk; Foster killed the