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GEMS FROM LA TE READINGS.
BY MRS. GORE.
Became at once their being and its food :But few of those who examine the reminiscences of
The world they did inhabit was themselves; their own hearts, and the incidents of their own lives, will
And they were Love's and all their world was good! deny that scarcely a given moment of their youth admitted
As o'er a barren reef that sea-ward shelves of swearing to a solitary object of attachment. Till the
Waves dash, their gladness sported o'er my fate; heart throbs with the master-passion which impels a man
But in the abyss no line of pity delves to seek a partner for life by an impulse as overmastering as that which prompts an heroic action, or generates a Lay the wrecked hope which naught could re-createchef-de'quvre, it is pretty sure to experience a succession At least I deemed so then : and yet we parted of feverish spasms; the commencement of one of which is With blessings, and her eyes were dim with tears. as hazily interblended with the conclusion of another, as with nocturnal darkness the glimmerings of a summer-day
She told me I had been her friend true-hearted
The friend she would recall in other years. dawn, when " night is at odds with morning, which is which."
These came; and when the storm was spent there darted
Over my sombre deep as from the spheres,
The memory of those words, at first revealing
More present gloom from all the past endears.
In time, their light and beauty o’er me stealing,
Softened despair to grief; and in its dew As there her questioning soul had answer found.
My whithered heart put forth one bud of feeling. She stooped to pluck my wild-flowers on the way,
I dared not hope its life:-fierce tempests blew Fancies that teem from the prolific ground
From the cold east of Youth in day's decline, In the heart's solstice_in whose inner light
And shook its tender petals :-still it grew! Through all the pleasant paths of earth we wound.
It grew and blossomed to a hope divine:And sometimes through her music of delight
I might be like her in her nature's worth ; An undersound of sadness softly stole,
I might live for her though she was not mine! And floated 'twixt the fountain pure and bright
From her each better impulse should take birthOf her deep joy and heaven—a cloud of dole
For her my song should raise and cheer mankind, That almost seemed relief-for scarce below
And I would sow her influence through the earth. The noon of rapture is allowed the soul.
And, as by great attraction are combined Hence even in life's summer sunbeams throw
All kindred essences—as waters blend Shades on the very path they glorify
With waters, flume with flame—and though confined And ecstasy would perish but for wo.
By bounds material, each to other tendI asked not if she loved me; for reply
Released from the division of our clay To every doubt, I read her glance and tone,
Again might be united friend with friend. And made them oracles of destiny.
For then, immortal and beyond decay, They whispered love-I deemed that love my own: The store of love partaken richer grows : Nor guessed that in the mirror of my song
The torch that burned for one--for all, a day! She saw an idol face to me unknown.
Oh, ye whose hearts in happy love repose, Nor that the chords of my devotion, strung
Your thankful blessings at its footstool lay, To feeling's highest tension for her sake,
Since faith and peace can issue from its woes ! And on whose notes with breathless hush she hung,
BY MISS MARIA J. MCINTOSH. Were prized for memories which they did awake
With most of us it is only when we are nigh unto death To her an echo what to me was life. O God, the strings that quivered would not break!
that we learn what it is to live. We talk of acquainting
ourselves with the lives of eminent persons, when we He came ! Can I forget that inward strife
read a record of the events through which they have passed ; Which made me calm!—The mightiest grief is dumb. we call our own lives desolate, because events of a painful They met:-he clasped her-called her plighted wife! - nature have befallen us; but these are not our life. Life
-the principle which makes us sentient, intelligent, active A frost was in that moment to benumb
beings; the principle by which we hold converse with My very sense of anguish-and I smiled.
the living spirit of beauty and goodness, by which—if we Freed by despair--what after-pang could come ?
pervert not its heavenly aims-assimilating with that She was his own—both Love's. They roamed the wild, spirit incarnated in the adorable Saviour, we rise from the And knew not it was bleak :-the wooded dell
finite to the infinite, and, resting on the bosom of love, They called not fair, for love had reconciled
find blessedness when that which made our happiness has
vanished from our grasp ; this life no events can make And blent all difference. From their spirits fell desolate. Sorrow may darken our sky, but the loving, A glow that bathed creation. Where they stood trusting child of God rises above its gloomy cloud, and Light was their shadow:-bliss unspeakable
there shines his life supremely bright.
Who shall penetrate into the spirit's mysterious inter- the changing circumstances around the chameleon chacourse with Him, who inhabiting eternity, yet dwelleth racter, if I may so call it—is, perhaps, the most dangerous with the humble and contrite heart ? Reverently and humbly to itself, and to those it affects, of any that I know. It to illustrate this precious truth, to show that in His pre- goes beyond the chameleon, indeed. The reptile only resence earth's discords are harmonized, and peace and flects the colors of objects near, retaining its own form strength arise where all was disorder and weakness may and nature. The impressible character, on the contrary, be permitted—but there let us pause, lest we be as the is changed in every line, as well as in every hue, by that fools who “ rush in where angels dare not tread."
with which it comes in contact. Certain attributes it certainly does retain. The substance is the same, but the
color and the form are always varying. In the substance BY G. A BERTIE.
lies the permanence and the identity. All else is moulded STANZAS.
and painted by circumstance. I am not what I was—the time's gone by When, bright and cloudless as the summer's sky,
The pure, ingenuous, open-hearted candor of early years, My day of life began;
would be a better friend to man, if he did but cling to it When all was music to my raptured ear,
with affection, through life, than all the worldly friends And, bounding onward, without grief or fear,
we gain in passing through existence-shrewdness, cauEager my course I ran.
tion, prudence, selfishness, wit, or even wisdom.
I am not what I was—the sense of youth,
BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE DISCIPLINE
OF LIFE." The heart that once throbbed high with health and life
A high, pure earthly love is powerful above all other Beats faint and wearied with the ceaseless strife
earthly principles for overcoming evils; but even in its Which there has held its sway.
highest purity, it has not sufficient power to lead to full
perfection. It is from Heaven, but it is not Heaven itself; BY G. P. R. JAMES.
it is but as an angel messenger, and fails in its office if it
does not lead on to love, perfect, unchangeable, divine. Long experience of any thing existing, has shown man. kind all its benefits and all its evils; but beside this, there is an indirect ndvantage in retaining that which is, namely,
BY MRS. GREY. that it has adjusted itself to the things by which it is surrounded ; and there is an indirect disadvantage in change, Is there a woman to be found who is not insensibly namely, that one can never calculate what derangements of flattered, even against her better reason, by devoted inall relations may take place, by any great alteration of cense to her charms ?-Very few, we fear !--poor human even one small part in the complicated machine of any nature is full of vanity. A woman will indignantly spurn state or society.
such love-her sense of right will make her shrink with
shuddering from such feelings; still there is too often a It is difficult to find words to express the infinite; and latent, lingering spark of gratified self-love hovering about although it may seem a pleonasmatic expression, I must the heart; although the spark is prevented from spreading say that all the varieties of human character have infinite into a flame, by the preponderating influence of strong varieties within themselves. Howeve
im- principle and purity of mind. It is, as we before said, pressible character, that which suffers opinions, feelings, human nature—and this same nature is miserably full of thoughts, purposes, actions to be continually altered by weakness and vanity.
REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.
Merry-Mount ; A Romance of Massachusetts Colony. Bos- rative wants rapidity of movement; the rich materials of ton : James Monroe & Co 2 vols. 12mo.
the work are imperfectly fused together; and occasionally This novel is the produetion of a New England writer things good in themselves seem to be in each other's way. of fine talents and large acquirements, but of talents and
All those faults which beset the creations of the most fertile acquirements which have not been as bountifully expressed intellects, when they aim to give great variety of incident in literature as the Public, that exacting leech of intellects
and character without having a grand, leading, ever-pre. raised above the mass, had a right to demand. The work,
sent conception of their work as a whole, are visible in this with some obvious defects, evinces a range of character novel, and mar its harmony as a work of art. But these ization, and a general opulence of mind, which place it defects inhere in many romances which are read with deabove many novels which can claim more felicity in the light by thousands, and though the splendid talents of the evolution of a story and more variety of incident. The
author of Merry-Mount may not always hide the heteroscene is laid in the early history of Massachusetts, com
geneousness of his plan, they are amply sufficient to prevent mencing about eight years after the landing of the Pil
it from interfering seriously with the interest of his novel, - grims at Plymouth, and its peculiarity consists in vividly and sufficient also to delineate persons and scenes which
reproducing to the imagination a period which even the leave on the reader's mind a strong impression of power and driest annalists have hardly touched. The novel might
beauty. with propriety be called, “The Cavaliers in Massachusetts," for its originality, as an American story, consists
The Female Poets of America. By Rufus W. Griswold. in bringing together Cavalier and Roundhead on New Philadelphia : Carey $ Hart. 1 vol. 8mo. England ground. The hero, Morton, is a loose, licentious, In the space of four hundred closely printed pages, Mr. scheming, good-natured, und good-for-nothing English Griswold has here brought together some ninety of our “gentleman,” engaged in a project to outwit the Puritans, female poets, and introduced them with critical and bioand to obtain the ascendancy in Massachusetts of a dif- graphical notices. Of all Mr. Griswold's various works, ferent code of principles and different kind of govern- the present evinces the greatest triumph over difficulties, ment from those which the Puritans aimed to establish and best demonstrates the mivuteness and the extent of Connected with this reckless Cavalier is a deeper plotter, his knowledge of American literature. Very few of the Sir Christopher Gardiner, a villain half after James's and women included in this collection have ever published edihalf after Bulwer's heart, pursuing schemes of empire and tions of their writings, and a considerable portion of the schemes of seduction with equal ingenuity and equal ill- verse was published anonymously. The labor, therefore, success. These two, with the followers and liege men of of collecting the materials both of the biographies and the Morton-a gang of ferocities, rascalities and un-moralities illustrative extracts, must have been of that arduous and from the lowest London taverns-constitute the chief vexatious kind which only enthusiasm for the subject carnal ingredients of the novel. Opposed to these we could have sustained. The volume is an important original have grand and life-like portraits of Miles Standish, Endi- contribution to the literary history of the country, and cott, Winthrop, and other Puritan celebrities, with only nobody, whose mind is not incurably vitiated by prejudice, an occasional view of the Indians. The business of the can make dissimilarity of opinion with regard to some of affections is principally transacted by two persons-a pure, the judgments expressed in the book, a ground for denying elevated, large-hearted and high-spirited woman, and a its general ability, honesty and value. Most of the manoble-minded but somewhat irascible man; and this serials are strictly new, and this fact of itself is sufficient portion of the novel has the ecstasies and agonies which to stamp the work with that character which distinguishes are appropriate to the subject.
Books of original research from mere compilations. We think the novel a real addition to American litera- • Mr. Griswold has given us a fine preface, in which he ture, whether considered in respect to the amount of new ably vindicates and acutely limits the genius of women. information it conveys, or the splendor, vivacity and dis- the biographies and extracts which follow, commence tinctness of its representations both of character and with Mrs. Anne Bradstreet and close with Miss Phillips. scenery. A dozen passages might be extracted, wbich, Between these two he has included an amount of beautiful viewed simply as descriptions, are grand enough to estab- and touching poetry which will surprise even those who lish a reputation. But the author's great rperit consists are inclined to take the most elevated view of the intelin having as clear and distinct a notion of the Cavalier, in lectual excellence of their countrywomen. We have here his daily life and conversation, as of the Puritan, and this the lofty and energetic thought of Miss Townsend, the merit, rare in an American, he could only have obtained from bright fancy and primitive feeling of Miss Gould, the ima profound study of the elder dramatists of England, and a passioned imagination and deep discernment of Maria vivid insight into the very heart of their characters. Out of Brooks, the holy and meditative spirit of Mrs. Sigourney, Scott, we do not know where to look for finer representa- the tender and graceful sentiment of Mrs. Embury; Mrs. tions of these two great classes of English society, as they Whitman, with'her grasp of all literatures, her keen must have appeared when brought into opposition to each thought which pierces through nature's most mystical other. No one familiar with Marston, Deckar, Beaumont symbols, and her ethereal spirit casting on every object and Fletcher, or any other dramatist in whose plays the that light“ which never was on sea or land;" Mrs. Oakes bullies and minor reprobates of the Elizabethan age appear, Smith, with her constant sense of the pure and the good, will call even Bootefish, Cakebread and Company, im- her daring and shaping imagination, before whose creaprobable or unnatural
tions and revelations her soul shrinks awed and subdued, The leading defect of the novel is the lack of a steady, and her deep feeling of the spiritual significance of things orderly and artistical development of the plot. The nar- -a woman worthy to be the companion of Plato; Fanny Osgood, the most brilliant and graceful of poetesses, with “ Talent is the Lion and the Serpent; Genius is the her quick decisive sensibility, and her teeming and ex- Eagle and the Dove. haustless fancy, eloquent of love and romance, and high- “Or the first is like some conspicuous flower which heartedness in every relation of life; Miss Lynch, simple, faunts its glory in the sunshine, while the last resembles austere, bold, despising ornament as ornament, and keeping the odoriferous spikenard's root, whose sweetness is conher raised eye fixed on the vanishing features of the elusive cealed in the ground. thought she aims to shape into almost sculptural form; " The flower displays itself openly, the root must be Grace Greenwood, with her fine combination of the tender extracted from the earth.” and the impassioned in feeling, and the subtile and grand Here is a piece of verse, in a different vein, on a very in thought, “ with a heart in her brain and a brain in her common dispensation of Providence, the Mean Fellow. heart ;”—all these, and many more whom we lack epithets We fear that few are so fortunate as not to be able to apply to characterize rather than desire to celebrate, appear in it to some acquaintance or enemy : Mr. Griswold's volume in all the royalty of womanhood.
“ Born bnt to be some snarl or plague, To proceed further in description would be merely to enu- Vile product of a rotten egg, merate names, without being able to suggest things. In In every feature of thy face, addition to the notables, whose names are known to all
A want or heart, of soul, we trace;
By every honest man contemn'd, readers of the magazines, Mr. Griswold has included in By your own looks betray'd, condemn'dhis collection, many a timid violet aad daisy of woman. of shame in front there is no lack, hood, too modest and sensitive not to feel the fear of noto
And curses ride upon your back." riety, and has transplanted it to his book with a delicaey as commendable as the taste which dictated it.
The Sacred Poets of England and America, for Three In conclusion, we have only to observe that a volume, 80 Centuries. Edited by Rufus W. Griswold. Illustrated complimentary to the genus of our countrywomen, can by Steel Engrarings. New York : D. Appleton & Co. hardly be read without a feeling of exultation and pride. 1 rol. 8vo. We trust it will meet that wide circulation it so richly There is a strange impression current even among people deserves.
who ought to know better, that religious poetry is a form
of composition confined to poets of the third or fourth Acton : or the Circle of Life. A Collection of Thoughts and class, and chiefly valuable for Hymn Books. The exist
ence of any verse, instinct with the finest essence of Observations, designed to delineate Life, Man, and the World. New York : D. Appleton f. Co. 1 rol. 12mo.
poetry, and glowing with the rapt and holy passions of the
religious bard, is practically denied. Now nothing is more This beautiful volume is the result of a life of observa- certain than that poetry, impassioned imagination, is essention and thought. The author has traveled in every part tially religious both in its nature and its expression. It of the globe, and viewed mankind in a greater variety of springs from that raised mood of mind in which the object aspects than most of those who meditate as well as ob- present to thought is worshiped. This is true even in poetry serve. He has thrown his reflections into a somewhat relating to the senses and to human passion, for if we scrutiquaint form, and has but a few words for even the greatest nize it sharply, we shall find that the object which fills the topics, but whatever he touches he either adorns or illu- poet's mind, however low in itself, is still deified for the minates, and his book furnishes numberless texts for moment, and made the exclusive object of his adoration. essays. Like most writers of maxims, he has a sardonic In this way bards often make gods of persons and things element in his mind, and occasionally disposes of an im- very questionable in themselves, but this is owing rather portant matter, deserving serious diseussion, with a gibe to the direction than the nature of the poet's powers. If or a fleer, and sometimes descends even to flippancy and these powers instead of being devoted to the idealization impertinence; but these are the almost inevitable vices of of appetite or destructive passions, be directed upward to the form of composition he has chosen, and he has fewer the true object of worship, the poetry will be really more of them than might be expected. A good part of the raci- beautiful and sublime than if it were merely confined to ness of such books as Acton comes from the occasional spiritualized sensations. substitution of the writer's impressions or prejudices for No one can glance over Mr. Griswold's beautiful book general truths. The didactic tone of such compositions without feeling how rich is English literature in song, is in this way relieved, and a paradox or a piece of acute celebrating the beauty of holiness and the infinite perfecnonsense thrown in, here and there, reminds us that it is tions of God. The compilation comprehends the early as a person who is thinking, not a moral and reasoning ma- well as the later English poets, and contains some ex. chine. The author of the present work has been especially quisite but not generally known extracts from Spenser, successful in giving an individuality to his general re- Gascoigne, Drayton, Sir Henry Wottan, Davies, Carew, marks, and preserving them from the abstract and “do
Ben Jonson, Drummond, Fletcher, Donne, Sir John Benume-good” character of impersonal morality.
mont, Wither, Herrick, Quarles, Vaughan and Herbert. The volume is so laden with striking thonghts and ob- The holy poets of a later date, both of England and Ameservations, that it is difficult to fix upon any deserving rica, are likewise profusely quoted, and the whole colleoespecial quotation. As a specimen of the writer's manner, tion is well deserving a place in every family library in the following on Genius and Talent may serve:
the country. " Talent is strength and subtlety of mind, genius is mental inspiration and delicacy of feeling. Talent possesses vigor and acuteness of penetration, but is surpassed
Benjamin Franklin : His Autobiography. With a Narra
tive of his Public Life and Services. By Rev. H. Hassby the vivid intellectual conceptions of genius. The
ings Weld. New York : Harper f Brothers. former is skillful and bold, the latter aspiring and gentle; but talent excels in practical sagacity, and hence those The Harpers are publishing this work in numbers, to be striking contrasts so often witnessed in the world, the completed in eight. It is illustrated with numerous en triumph of talent through its adroit and active energies, gravings after designs by Chapman, and is printed in large and the adversities of genius in the midst of its boundless type on fine paper. The edition promises to be altogether but unattainable aspirations.
the best which has been issued in the country, and will tend to make more familiar to his countrymen the great, any body else. It has a jobby air, as though it had been American philosopher's genuine character and real ser. written in accordance with a contract, and without any. vices to the world.
especial inspiration. The materials are, in great part, the
old capital of the author, and repetition is stamped on The Haunted Man. By Charles Dickens. Nero York :
almost every page. The Tetterbys and the baby, however, Harper & Brothers.
and Mrs. William, are full of beautiful humor and pathos, This new Christmas story by Dickens is hardly worthy tion and failure.
and succeed in saving the book from positive condemna. of him, though it might be considered a triumph to almost
"GRAHAM" TO “JEREMY SHORT."
proclaims its destiny. From every wooded hill-side and My DEAR JEREMY,-Your name would be euphonious babbling stream—from the snow-capped mountain to the in the stock-market, at times; but I believe stocks are fertile valley-yea! even over the great desert plains, muddied waters in which you seldom dabble. You are where the footstep cracks the crisp soil, a voice has gone wise. But do you find yourself at all in the vein specu- forth, which the Nations hear and obey, proclaiminglative, particularly now, when the streams of that new BE YE FREE! El Dorado, California, sparkle invitingly with yellow Do you not think that the abandoning of all domestic pebbles? and its many broad acres spread themselves out and personal comfort, sundering of all social and friendly temptingly, with their bowels of undug gold, begging for ties, and rushing into the doubtful companionship of Calipickaxe, shovel and basin? How many ears heretofore fornia, for the mere sake of gold, is a pretty accurate data closed to the artifices of the speculator, are pricked up, or from which to estimate a man's heart, or brain, or both ? belie their masters, at the all-enchanting sound of the Is it not something so absolutely sordid, that one cannot word GOLD!! With all the close calculation and keen help losing a little of the respect heretofore entertained spirit of inquiry which mark us as a nation, I fear me that for a friend who is seized with this yellow fever? As if Jonathan has his weakness, and that his soft side is me- life had nothing to mitigate the evils of existence but tallic. There is something in the clinking of gold and wealth-indeed, as if we were born only to worship that silver that sets aside his ordinary caution and shrewdness, as a god--upon whose shrine we are to sacrifice time, and leads him to do very silly things to get at it. It be friends, health, and even life itself, to be the masters of so longs to his nature to be impetuous, and continued suc- much tinsel as you can clutch at the altar. Bah! Is there cess leads him into very rash ventures. A more inter- not in home enjoyments and the society and friendship of rupted fortune would, in this case, have allowed him men who know us well, and love us truly, more real breathing time to make a " calculation;" and when Jona- wealth than all that will ever be attained by the slaves than does that coolly, he is seldom overreached. But he who sweep the dirt from the streams in California-live has flogged the Mexicans, taken the territory that he upon frogs and beetles, and fill the air with curses. Think wanted-as he knew he would-and he is ready now to of
of even the most ordinary sense of decency, herdbelieve that the golden pavements of the Inca's were no ing—for any sum—for months and years with the scum of fable, and that the streams in California are walled in every clime; with souls sickened and minds defiled with with gold, if you will. At least he will believe it until he their abominations; to be of them," or not to be" at allsees for himself. He is a little taken by surprise with this is there any consideration that could tempt your avarice glittering bait, and no trout dashes at a tempting fly with or mine? None that I can think of, unless to gratify a more ravenous bite than he does at these shining some darling revenge, vigilant and sleepless for years, "placers." What cares he for the thousands of miles which men sometimes cherish for wrongs, and which nothat intervene; for the storms of winter that howl around thing but gold could furnish the means of satisfyingthe Horn, and threaten danger and death! At the first even in that case it would be the last resort. glimpse of the prospect, a thousand sails are set, and If any friend of yours is solicitous to enrich a patch of whitening the ocean, bear him to fortune. No ordinary soil, two feet by six, I think I can recommend an Undercomforts, no moderate success here, restrains his kee taker who will arrange the thing nicely for him here; it thirst of adventure. Were home a paradise, and Cali- is not worth while for him to go to California with his fornia a desert, with its shores bristling with opposing benevolence. For you, he would be reasonable, as you bayonets, and parked with roaring artillery, he would go.
are Short. Yes! he would, perhaps, rather go then than now. The But, my dear Jeremy, I had no intention of wandering glory of the achievement would enhance the value of the from my purpose, of giving you a reminding hint of wealth. The founder of Nations-he must work out a “Copper Mining." as a sort of sedative to the gold prophecy. Already the cry of a great people goes up with "placers.” Some of Jonathan's younger sons were then a shout from the once desolate hills, and ardent, panting severely bitten, and were so thoroughly innoculated with thousands, answer the cry with, “WE COME !” and the the virus, as to have rather a sharpened recollection of shout swells with a louder triumph, a more emphatic joy, metals. The most of them, I should think, would be safe for “a nation is born in a day!”
from this later disease, even in its most violent and conThe impetuous rush to that far-off land is not in itself tagious forms. Yet there is something very attractive, striking or marvelous. Other and feebler nations have and most dangerously seductive, in delving for minerals, shown the same avidity for gold. The Spaniards have counting each shovelfull as so many guineas coined, and dared more, to quench the same insatiate thirst. But the already in your pocket. There is no enthusiast more danAnglo-Saxon heel, upon that soil, seals its greatness and I gerous than your professional miner. The gentle mad