The whirlwind of the passions was thine own; Among thy gallant sons that guard thee well, What man is there, who while reading this noble And mingles with the light that beams from God's own throne. stanza does not feel his veins tingle and his bosom swell? It is spirit-stirring! And in "The Lapse of Time," we have the same feeling, not less fervent, though more subdued. The years, that o'er each sister land Shall lift the country of my birth And nurse her strength, till she shall stand The pride and pattern of the earth; 'Till younger commonwealths, for aid, Shall cling about her ample robe, And from her frown shall shrink afraid The crowned oppressors of the globe. In all these quotations there is no rhetorical flourish, no antithetical prettiness, no unmeaning melody-but all is vigorous thought, sound judgment, and, we may say-a prophesy, that has already been partly verified. with glad embrace The fair disburdened lands welcome a nobler race. Thus error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven; They fade, they fly-but truth survives their flight. In these quotations we see a trait of the author's mind, almost from his first essay in verse, even to the present time. In his latest published poem"The Winds,""-we find the same love of liberty ant. and scorn of oppressors-mingled with strong be-mer nevolence. We quote one verse. Yet oh, when that wronged spirit of our race, Shall break, as soon he must, his long-worn chains, And leap in freedom from his prison place, Lord of his ancient hills and fruitful plains, Let him not rise, like these mad winds of air, To waste the loveliness that time could spare, To fill the earth with wo, and blot her fair Unconscious breast with blood from human view. And to the two verses preceding the one we have quoted, we might also refer, as a proof that his opinions on government and legislation have, from his earliest manhood even till the present time, been unwaveringly the same. In our day, the love of freedom seems insepara- Here the free spirit of mankind, at length, * * The Winds, too, are a favorite theme with BryWe have "To the Evening Wind;” “SumWind;" "The West Wind;" "The Hurricane;" and lastly "The Winds." The first named poem is familiar to all readers; and by all admired. Mr. John Keese of New York, has lately published a very beautiful volume, adorned with designs by Chapman, entitled, "The Poets of America;" containing many selections of great excellence, and some destitute of all merit. Among other poems of Bryant's, chosen for that book, is " To the Evening Wind."-We have heard it said, that Mr. Keese deeming it incomplete, suggested to the author, through a friend, the propriety of introducing a new stanzas. Bryant yielded to the suggestion and wrote an additional one, which is inserted between the 3d and 4th verse; as it has only appeared in the volume referred to, we copy it. Stoop o'er the place of graves, and softly sway Like thy pure breath, into the vast unknown, Simms, the novelist and poet-for whose genius we entertain a high respect-in 1828, published in Charleston a small volume of verse, which contained a poem-" The Summer Evening Wind"— between which and "To the Evening Wind," a strong resemblance may be traced, in several of the Turning a moment to shackled Europe, he predicts thoughts. Let us quote from both. the moment set How soothingly, to close the sultry day, * The odorous breath of Evening, like a wing, I feel The Wind ascends my lattice, and creeps in, - Thou, meanwhile, will come Simms. Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou * And dry the moistened curls that overspread And softly part his curtains to allow Thy visit, grateful to his burning brow. Bryant. true poetic enthusiasm-though some have soared higher into the realms of imagination, none have approached his tenderness of feeling and fidelity of description-and, though several are endowed with more varied powers, none have matched his purity and compactness of language. Were his wit as brilliant as his pathos is deep-his invention as quick as his enthusiasm is strong-and his skill in the heart as profound as his knowledge of nature-we should assign him a place among the mightiest masters of song. In drawing the mental portrait of the poet, it may be interesting to consider him in various stages of his career, and see if the splendor of his early fame has been dimmed by the later productions of his muse. Indeed, without such an examination this portrait would be imperfect. We accuse neither of plagiarism-we look upon the similitude merely as a coincidence that sometimes happens. A stronger resemblance than this may be found in “The Bride of Abydos" and "The Fire Worshippers;" yet who accuses Byron or Moore of plagiarising from each other? In both few of his best poems, which, without much imcases the poems were written about the same time, propriety, may be contrasted— Let us, therefore, mention the dates of a very and the poets resided apart. Ours, one in Charles-Thanatopsis, written 1815. The Fountain, written 1839. ton, the other in New York-The British, one in England, the other in Greece. In the Were it not improper in the plan we have proposed for ourself, to look with a critical eye upon the poet, we might point out some few faults both of harmony and style-spots upon the sun. following line from Monument Mountain—viz : "Of the wide forest and maize-planted glades." Comic actors sometimes make a "palpable hit" by emphasizing conjunctions—but in serious verse, it is inadmissible. In style, Bryant has one or two faults that occur several times in his verse-viz : "The love that wrings it so And again, Monument Mountain. "They little know, who loved him so." The Murdered Traveller. "Wrings it so" and "loved him so," do not belong to the pure Saxon-English-they are effeminate refinements of modern days. "So," in the sense intended above, means any thing or nothing-it conveys no definite idea to the mind-although it is in common use. Hymn to Death, 1825. Earth, 1834. 1833. 1839. To the Evening Wind, 1828. Ye dart upon the deep, and straight is heard A wilder roar, and men grow pale and pray; And pile the wreck of navies round the bay. The various translations from the French, German, Spanish, Portuguese, &c., we cannot commend highly-in truth, we may well regret that By a close comparison of his writings, from the one like Bryant, of vigorous and original mind, appearance of "The Ages" to the poem last pubshould spare time to render into English verse, po- lished, we have come to the decided conclusion ems-inferior both in feeling and fancy to his own that, instead of growing careless by confidence in unaided productions. We venture to assert, that, his power, or, of becoming cold by the advance of however much justice he may have done the origi- years, Bryant improves in terseness of style, vigor nals, he never could have won, by these transla- of thought, and beauty of expression. We are tions, a name for himself. more amazed at this, than we should be disposed to We have already said, that on the publication of censure, were it otherwise; for, when we reflect “The Ages" in 1821, Bryant, by common consent, that he is constantly engaged, in the drudgery, we was placed at the head of American poets. may say, of a daily newspaper, it excites our wonThough many of his contemporaries have writ-der that he is able to abstract his mind from the ten more voluminously, none have equalled him in conflicts of party politics and soar into the regions VOL. VI.-15 of imagination. We fervently hope, that the time will arrive, when Bryant, in the full maturity and strength of genius, may be able to withdraw from his present vocation to some congenial place, and there find leisure to compose a poem of length, on some subject worthy of his muse-one, that will be a monument to his fame, even more enduring than all he has yet written. But, should circumstances deny him the leisure for such a task, he has achieved enough to secure for himself a high niche in the Temple of Fame. While Americans shall reverence the literature of their country, and honor their poets, Bryant will hold the highest rank, of all who have yet lived, and his writings will fill the proudest place in every library of American poetry. THE FALLEN. He had been one whose heart was like a fountain, That mingled with the skies he loved to dwell: And gave him, for his canopy, a cloud She saw her own sweet image doubly shine. Like a poor pilgrim, gathering, one by one, The nut-galls of life's lore to feed his pen; But shone by his own light, as doth the sun. On depths that others fathomed toilfully, His rays, as on a surface plain, would fall: He glass'd himself on knowledge, as a sea; Drew up her streams and rained them down, on all. He had not trod the beaten ways of men; Yet human hearts were unto him, a book When his spent frame sunk in its nightly death, Of his rich harvest, these were but the tares: He dashed them from him--as the bark her prize, When the wind scatters Neptune's hoary hairs. He was as one who rides upon a wave, Where flows the river of the day-god's beams: Poor mariner, his glory was his grave! The very rays that poured on him their streams, Dazzled his vision; through the misty glare, As when the winged ambassador of Jove, That he had thither ceased to gravitate: That such should leave the sun to gain a star! WRECK OF THE HESPERUS.* A BALLAD. BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW, AUTHOR OF "VOICES OF THE NIGHT," "HYPERION," AND "OUTRE MER." It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the Skipper had ta'en his little daughter, Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom sweet as the hawthorn buds The Skipper he stood beside the helm, Had sail'd the Spanish Main, I pray thee, put into yonder port, Last night, the moon had a golden ring, The Skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the North-east; And the billows froth'd like yeast. We select the above ballad from that valuable journal, "The New-World"-a notice of which will be found in this number. It is from the pen of one of our sweetest and brightest poets, and is worthy of his genius. "The Psalms of Life," we have not yet seen, but are waiting anxiously for its reception. We think, with the correspondeat of "The New-World" that Professor Longfellow holds a place in the very first rank of our native poets.-[Ed. Messenger. Down came the storm, and smote amain The vessel in its strength; She shudder'd and paus'd, like a frighted steed, Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, For I can weather the roughest gale, That ever wind did blow. He wrapp'd her warm in his seaman's coat And bound her to the mast. O father! I hear the church-bells ring- Some ship in distress, that cannot live O father! I see a gleaming light O say, what may it be? But the father answer'd never a word, Lash'd to the helm, all stiff and stark, With his face to the skies, The lantern gleam'd through the gleaming snow On his fix'd and glassy eyes. Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be; And she thought of Christ, who still'd the wave On the Lake of Galilee. And fast through the midnight dark and drear, Through the whistling sleet and snow, Like a sheeted ghost the vessel swept, Toward the reef of Norman's Woe. And ever the fitful gusts between A sound came from the land; On the rocks and the hard sea-sand. And a whooping billow swept the crew She struck where the white and fleecy waves But the cruel rocks they gored her side Her rattling shrouds, all sheath'd in ice, With the masts went by the board; At day-break, on the bleak sea-beach, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lash'd close to a drifting mast. The salt sea was frozen on her breast, And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, CANOVA. [Translated from the Italian, by M. Morgan, M. D. Surgeon U. S. Navy, for the Southern Literary Messenger.] CANOVA FIRST CALLED TO PARIS-HIS STATUE OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, FIRST CONSUL. At this period he had made the model of a colossal statue of Ferdinand, King of Naples, and had finished a copy of his Perseus, with some variations, for Pollonia; when Cacault, the French Minister at Rome, invited him in the name of the First Consul to Paris, in order to execute there a work of art. But he was so much attached to Rome, and so unwilling to change his habits of living, that, for some time, he presented obstacles to leaving there. But being advised by the Pope himself, and others capable of judging of the advantage which might result to him from a compliance with the wishes of the First Consul, he at length consented to the request. His friend, D'Esté, told him, "If it should become necessary to write your life, it will be gratifying to see your sculpture registered and connected with great men and great events. It is well that a great artist should have something of variety and recreation connected with his fame, for readers who are always curious in such matters." He therefore departed for Paris, accompanied by his brother George Baptiste ; and the French Minister presented him with a beautiful carriage for the journey. The Pope gave him letters to his Legate, near the French Republic; and he was furnished with credentials from St. Cloud, of the most generous and liberal kind with regard to his expenses. On his arrival he was treated with the most marked attention and courtesy and was introduced by the Legate to the Minister of the Interior, who immediately accompanied him to the Palace of St. Cloud. There, by the Secretary Bourrienne and the Governor General, he was presented to Bonaparte, who received him most kindly, and conversed freely and with great complaisance on various topics. The ingenuous artist begged permission to speak to the First Consul with the candor and simplicity which belonged to his character; and went on to explain to him, how Rome languished in indigence and poverty from the unfortunate state of the times, despoiled as she was of her ancient monuments, the palaces of the Popes going to ruin and decay, while the city was without money and without com merce. 66 46 I will restore Rome," replied Bonaparte; "I have the good of mankind at heart, and I will promote it. But what then would you have?" Nothing," replied the sculptor, "but to obey your orders." "Make my statue," said Bonaparte, and took leave of him. Three days afterwards, Canova returned to St. Cloud with the clay for the model, accompanied by his brother; and they breakfasted with Bonaparte and Josephine. Canova observed that a person having so much to do as the First Consul, would probably be fatigued with the waste of time in sitting for his likeness. "I am not wanting of something to do, indeed," said Bonaparte. Canova then commenced the statue, which in five days was finished in gigantie proportions. While Canova was working at the model, the First Consul read, or conversed jocularly with Josephine, or talked familiarly with the artist about his particular profession. Among other things, they spoke of the taking from Rome of the ancient Greek monuments and other precious objects of the fine arts. On this subject the artist could not restrain his feelings and his grief, at the great loss and injury to Rome. Believe me," said he, "this lamentation is not mine alone and that of Italians: the French themselves, who possess such high taste and sense of the dignity of the | for the city of Catanea-and one of the Duke of Bedford, fine arts, participate also in our grief; and a paper has been and many other works; having determined to be more in. published here in Paris to this effect by the illustrious Qua- dulgent to his liberal genius, rather than restrained by such tremĕre of Quincy." The conversation afterwards turned commissions. on the transportation of the bronze horses from Venice; and Canova said, Sire, the subversion of that Republic will afflict me with sorrow during life." What ardent love of country, and above all, what sincerity, frankness and feeling are in all the words of the sculptor. Bonaparte was pleased with his manner, and indulged in a familiarity with him, which he used with no other person, and of which some were jealous. While upon the head of the statue, Canova observed, "It must be confessed that this head is so favorable to sculpture, that finding it among ancient statues, it would always be taken for that of one of the greatest men of antiquity who are honored in history. As the likeness of a hero, I shall succeed marvellously; but as such it may not perhaps please so well the tender sex." At this Bonaparte smiled. The model being finished, the sculptor was entertained in the most magnificent style by the Minister for Foreign Affairs, and all Paris talked of nothing but Canova, the statue, and the attentions bestowed on him by the First Consul. Two great works now occupied him-the Statue of the First Consul, and the Grand Mausoleum to Christina, for Austria. He finished first the Statue of the First Consul, which was done in the heroic costume, much like the statues of the Roman Emperors, placing in one hand a spear and in the other the world with victory. The likeness was naked, the sword is abandoned to the side for support, and all the except the military vest, which hung from the shouldersperson is seen in front. Denon wrote a strong censure of the work, which was published at the time, on the statue being naked, as a thing contrary to our customs in modern times, which he said should be handed down by the arts to posterity. But a defence was made of it by a famous and learned antiquary, whose knowledge of such matters was Visconti, in which were found irrefutable arguments which respected by every civilized nation, the Great Ennio Quirino demonstrated to Denon and the world the propriety of the costume. The costumes in ancient sculpture are not the true costumes used in the times when the likenesses were taken as the difference between the costumes of the times is evident. Costumes are conventional for the embellishment and perfection of the art. Among the ancient naked likenesses, is Meleager naked-the Gladiator Borghese naked-the Achilles of the Campidoglio is nakedthe Laocoon is naked-Jason is naked. There never was an ancient hunter nor soldier nor hero made but he was The celebrated David became his intimate friend, and entertained him at his house, where he was made acquainted with the most illustrious artists of France, and among them with Gerard, who painted his portrait. Canova was always a firm defender of the exalted merit of these great artists, and spoke well of their works. While visiting the Gallery of Pictures, where, among others, there was one by Gerard representing Belisarius as a beggar, and a Hypolite naked. The art has chosen nudity as its language. Hence by Guerin, a young man then of great promise, Canova said the likenesses and statues of the living were represented publicly that France possessed artists whose merit was su-naked-whence Pompey, Agrippa, Augustus, Tiberius, perior to their fame. Drusus, Germanicus, Claudius, Domitian, Nerva, Adrian, He was afterwards honorably presented to the National Marcus Aurelius, Lucius Verus, Septimius Severus and Institute, of which he was made a member; and at Neu- Macrinus, are all represented naked. No Emperor has the illy, the villa of Gen. Murat, he again saw his groups of toga on except in the funeral celebrations as Pontiff, when Psyche and Love, and worked on them for some time with his face is veiled. The toga was only the Roman imperial much effect. Finally he took leave of the First Consul the civic habit. And so in like manner the illustrious Greeks, morning that he received the ambassador from Tunis. Bo- Pindar, Euripides, Demosthenes, Aristotle, Aristides, have naparte said to him, " Commend me to the Pope, and tell only a large Greek mantle thrown in a picturesque manner him you have heard me recommend the liberty of all chris-over their naked bodies. Thus in the frieze of the Parthe tians." The sculptor made notes of all this at the time, which he left with his brother. He was announced at quitting Paris as the greatest sculptor in the world, and that the bust of the model was a perfect apotheosis. On his way home, he lodged at Lyons with the Arch Bishop, Cardinal Fesch, brother to the mother of the First Consul, a worthy lady, who knew how to conduct herself with equal dignity in the extremes of prosperous and adverse fortune. At Turin, he lodged with the Marquis Prié, and received great honors at Milan from Murat, and from Melzi D'Eeril, Vice President of the Republic; and his return was a perfect triumph, such was the disposition to honor him, and in him the Fine Arts. Having arrived at Florence, he was received with the most enthusiastic applause by the Academy there, and his majesty Ludovico, King of Etruria, made him a noble present, which was all the works of the ample museum, with an engraved frontispiece and a dedication to the sculptor by the King himself. non, where Phidias has given the procession of the Panathenæ, the Athenian nobles are represented either as naked or with short vests. This ever was their costume. The ancient artists used vestments for decency in their representations of women and their goddesses, unless when Venus was coming from the bath or nymphs coming out of the lakes-beyond this they used them for ornament alone and as emblematic characteristics. But we cannot represent our clothes as the ancients did theirs, in consequence of their angular shape rendering them unfavorable to and unfitting them for use in sculpture. They are contrary to the beautiful and graceful compositions of the art, nor is it proper that such things should be seen from side views. "An Artist," concludes Visconti, "might well represent an Eastern person with the feet and legs bare, although wrapped in a magnificent robe and covered with a turban and adorned with precious jewels; but a French likeness in an embroidered habit with naked legs, would be excessively ridiculous." The same arguments were urged by Cicognura, when he says the heroic habit was only a convention adopted to express a quality of the mind, and to use metaphysical entities corresponding with the relations of the arts. This also corresponds with the opinion of Mengs, when he says the Greeks remembered that the arts were made by man, and that their first model was the hu He thence returned to Rome, where all were eager to employ him, as all Europe desired to possess some of his works. But one man, however laborious, could not gratify all; and he was compelled to decline a monument to the First Consul, for Milan-a statue of Mr. Dundas, for Lord Ferguson, with the offer of three thousand pounds sterling-man figure. a statue of Catharine II, for Russia-one of Ferdinand IV, The artist consecrates his work to all people and to all |