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at the altar she committed her future destiny into the keeping of the man of her choice? Beautiful, indeed, are those virtues in the nature of woman that only shine the brighter when tested by the stern ordeal of affliction and neglect.

Woman by nature is admirably fitted for her sphere. Although her physical constitution is by far weaker than that of man, she possesses a strength of will, and an energy of purpose, that render her powers of endurance, under affliction or distress, much stronger than his. At the bedside of the sick, on the field of battle, in all the most trying events and accidents of life, we find innumerable proofs of this. Wherever we behold the direful visitations of misfortune, disease, or distress, there also we find the gentle influence of a ministering angel, in the guise of that being who was "last at the cross, and first at the sepulchre." The classic writer of Sunny Side, after having alluded to the fortitude with which women undergo misfortune and reverses, introduces the following beautiful simile: As the vine, which has long twined its graceful foliage about the oak, and been lifted by it into sunshine, will, when the hardy plant is rifted by the thunderbolt, eling around it with its caressing tendrils, and bind up its shattered boughs, so it is beautifully ordered by Providence that woman, who is the mere dependent and ornament of man in his happier hours, should be his stay and solace when smitten with sudden calamity; winding herself into the rugged recesses of his nature, tenderly supporting the drooping head, and binding up the broken heart.

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Woman has been the theme of the poet and the novelist from the earliest times to the present. Some writers who have made her their subject have been more ready to censure than to praise, to ridicule than flatter. But for all such we must make due allowances. We find a Shakspeare, for example, expressing such sentiments as the following: Frailty, thy name is woman." "Ay me, how weak a thing the heart of woman is!" "These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues." "There is never a fair woman has a true face." But should we not take into consideration the position occupied by woman at the time he wrote, the general laxity of manners that then prevailed, ere we rebuke too harshly the genius of a Shakspeare for having been thus severe with the fairer sex? If another has said,

"Oh, woman, woman, whether lean or fat,

In face an angel, but in soul a cat,"

we can readily excuse so ungallant a rhyme, supposing, of course, this poor fellow to have wedded a fair shrew. A third has said,

"Women, like moths, are always caught by glare, And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair."

* Name of Irving's country-seat.

Jilted this one must have been, his beau idéal preferring the adoration of mammon to that of love. Thus if we proceeded, should we not find some good apology for every one? But opposed to such we find many like these we now cite:

"When pain and anguish wring tɩ.ɔ brow,

A ministering angel thou."

"There is that sweetness in a female's mind
Which in a man's we cannot hope to find."

"The falling snow descends

To prove her breast less fair-
But, grieved to see itself surpassed,
It melts into a tear."

"Woman, be fair; we must adore thee;

Smile, and a world is weak before thee."
"The world was sad, the garden was a wild;
And man, the hermit, sighed, till woman smiled.
"Without a smile from partial beauty won,
Say, what were man? A world without a sun.”
"Last, softly beautiful, as music's close,
Angelic woman into being rose."

It is thus that authors of undoubted genius have portrayed woman. If some have been too severe in their criticisms, others have been too partial. If some have represented her in all her native purity of heart, as an angel of light, others have shown us how revolting she appears when, regardless of her own high destiny, she has buried, in infamy and disgrace, the existence which Heaven designed should reflect beams of cheerfulness and purity upon the broad-spread waste of life.

The inquiry, can woman approach man in an intellectual point of view? is often made. If we do not bring forward any new arguments to prove the affirmative of this question, we may at least be allowed to express our views in relation to it. The great majority of those who have considered this subject favor the negative. They assert that her reasoning powers may be quicker in their operations, and that her conclusions may be very accurate; but then she lacks that real vigor of thought, so essential to the attainment of intellectual greatness. They deem her too weak and fickle a being to excel in letters, and a knowledge of the arts and sciences. These, they say, do not belong to her sphere. We would by no means be considered an advocate for female rights societies, but deem it perfectly proper that woman in this relation should receive her full meed of praise. Let us for a moment glance at the catalogue of lady writers. Do we not find here the names of many who rank high indeed?-a Martineau, a More, a Hemans, a Hale, a Bremer, an Edgeworth, an Osgood, a Sigourney, a Willard, a Howitt, a Smith, a Forester, a Sherwood, a Landon, a Greenwood; have not these, with numerous others, performed a truly worthy part in the great world of literature? Then we would refer you to a De Stael,

Miss Clarke.

whose gigantic intellect caused even the "Child of Destiny" to tremble at the powerful emanations from her pen. But if those who dissent from our views on this subject ask us where we find a second De Stael, or a second Hemans-viewing them only as grand exceptions to the general rule-we boldly ask in reply, where is your second Shakspeare? where your second Byron? The fact that woman has excelled in literature establishes sufficiently the principle that, under propitious circumstances, she may acquire intellectual greatness. Nor is it at all to be wondered at that she so seldom arrives to an eminence equal with man in this respect, if we consider how great a disparity there is in the early mental training of the two. Of the fact that the intellectual wants of woman are too little attended to in our own country-that the whole system of female education is sadly defective-there can be very little doubt; and when we behold such a reform as is really needed in this, then we may expect to see woman occupying the dignified position which her lofty destiny so richly entitles her to.

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too much the public mind in our progressive age; but we would have her better fitted intellectually for the faithful performance of the lofty trust reposed in her, as the being who is to give an indelible stamp to the future character of our country, and the world. And we should find that this, so far from causing her to assume a false position, so far from making her desire to exercise prerogatives unbecoming to her, would give her a correct view of her own sphere, and of the relations she sustains in it to others. It is generally the case that those who are most enthusiastic in advocating their rights are the very persons who, had they been properly educated, would have plainly perceived the inconsistency and folly of the scheme they vindicate. The great policy of woman in the present age is, we believe, the correction of those errors in sentiment and education into which a few ambitious spirits have betrayed her; proving, by her contempt of everything like agitation or uncalled-for excitement, that her only proper hall of legislation is Home, and that she who makes the politics of home her peculiar study, discharges more faithfully her duty, enhances her own happiness, and that of those about her, adds much to the dignity of her position, and encircles, with an amaranthine wreath of purity and brightness, the cherished name of Woman.

SELF-MADE MEN.

FRANCIS JOSEPH HAYDN, MUSICIAN AND COMPOSER.

FRANCIS JOSEPH HAYDN was born on the 31st of March, 1732, at Rohran, a small town fifteen leagues from Vienna. His father was a cartwright, and his mother, before her marriage, had been cook in the family of Count Harrack, the lord of the village. The father of Haydn held also the office of parish sexton. He had a fine tenor voice, and was fond of music. Having occasion to visit Frankforton-the-Maine, he there learned to play upon the harp, and on holidays, and in the intervals of business, he used to amuse himself with this instrument, to which his wife joined the accompaniment of her voice. During these little domestic concerts, Haydn, almost as soon as he could go alone, used to stand between his parents with two pieces of wood in his hands, one of which served him as a violin, and the other as a bow, delighted with the idea that he contributed his share to the music; and such was the impression, even at this early age, which his mother's simple airs made upon his feelings, that to the latest period of his existence he often sang them with unabated pleasure, whilst his own sublime compositions were delighting all Europe.

One Sunday, a relation, whose name was Frank, came to see the cartwright. He was well acquainted with music, and was pleased with the performance which his cousin offered after church for his amusement; but, above all, he was so struck with the astonishing precision with which Haydn, then six years of age, beat time, that he offered to take him home with him, and teach him music.

This proposal was joyfully accepted by the parents; for Frank was respectably fixed as a schoolmaster at Hamburgh, and they thought if, in addition to the general branches of education, their little Joseph could be taught music also, they might be enabled, at a future period, to get him into holy orders, to accomplish which was the summit of their parental ambition.

Haydn accordingly set off for Hamburgh with his relation. The first proof he gave of his ability was by performing, on a tambourine, which he found in Frank's house soon after his arrival, an air-though the instrument itself is susceptible only of two tones -which attracted the attention of all who came to the school-house. Haydn found a sharp master in his cousin, and the benefit he reaped from his instructions was such as to enable him not only to play on the violin and harpsichord, but also to un.

derstand Latin, and to sing at the parish desk in a style which spread his reputation throughout the canton. Haydn had been two years with his cousin, when it happened that Reüter, the maître de chapelle of St. Stephen's, the cathedral church of Vienna, called at Frank's house in the course of a journey, which he was making for the purpose of seeking out children of musical talents wherewith to recruit his choir. Frank thought it a favorable opportunity to advance the interests of his little relative. He sent for him into the room, and Reuter gave him a canon to sing at sight. The precision, the spirit, the purity of tone with which the child executed it astonished him, and when he returned to Vienna he took Haydn with him, and enrolled him in the choir. From this time Haydn devoted himself to the art with an assiduity that has rarely been equalled-perhaps never excelled. Left entirely to his own guidance, and only obliged, by the rules of St. Stephen's, to practise two hours in the day, he yet regularly studied sixteen, and sometimes eighteen, hours out of the twenty-four. If he was at play with his young companions in the square near St. Stephen's, the moment he heard the organ he would leave them, and go into the church; and the sound of any musical instrument whatsoever was to him a gratification far beyond what he could find in any amusement that could be proposed to him.

When Haydn was thirteen years old, he composed a mass, which he showed to Reuter, who, with that sincerity which is the best proof of real friendship, pointed out to him the faults and inaccuracies with which it abounded; and Haydn, with the good sense and entire absence of vanity which characterized him throughout life, immediately saw and acknowledged the justice of the critique. He was sensible that, in order to avoid committing similar errors another time, a knowledge of counterpoint and the rules of harmony was necessary; but the attainment of such knowledge was attended with difficulties that to him, poor and friendless as he was, appeared almost insuperable. He had no money to pay any person for instructing him, and it was only by abridging himself of food that he was enabled to purchase a few second-hand books which treated of the theory of music, and by the aid of which he endeavored to find out the rules of composition. The life of Haydn was, at this period, an unremitting scene of labor and privation. His father was so poor that he could with difficulty find bread, and the son being unfortunately robbed of his clothes, all that he could scrape together to refit his wardrobe for him scarcely amounted to eleven shillings. Small as this sum was, Haydn received it with a thankful heart, and a contented spirit. He lodged in a garret, where he could not, piercing as are the winters in Vienna, afford himself the comfort of a fire. The most important piece of furniture was an old harpsichord, falling to pieces in all parts, and

little worthy of the honor of expressing all his first thoughts and finest feelings. By the side of this wretched instrument he often pursued his studies until so late an hour of the night, that, benumbed with cold and faint with hunger, he would drop his head upon it, and lose in sleep all uneasy sensations. Yet morning constantly found him alert and happy.

Haydn was about eighteen years of age, when a noble Venetian, named Cornaro, came to Vienna as ambassador from the Republic. He had in his train a musician of the name of Porpora, a Neapolitan by birth, and one of the most celebrated composers of that time. Haydn longed to be acquainted with this man; and having fortunately obtained an introduction into the ambassador's family, in a musical capacity, he was taken by him, along with Porpora, to the baths of Manensdorff, which were the fashionable resort at that time. Neither fashion nor splendor, however, had any influence on the mind of Haydn. He was happy, not because he was in the train of the ambassador, but because he was under the same roof with a man of genius like Porpora, and from whom he hoped to receive instruction in the art to which he was so devotedly attached. To attain so desirable an object, he thought no assiduity wearisome-no offices degrading. He rose every morning earlier even than usual-for, with his ardor and industry, it is not necessary to say that he was always an early riser-in order that he might beat Porpora's coat, clean his shoes, adjust his periwig, and put everything in order for him by the time he should rise. Porpora was so crabbed in his temper, and so whimsical in his habits, that, for the first few days of his attendance upon him, Haydn had nothing but fault-finding and harsh epithets for his reward. It is not, however, in human nature to be otherwise than pleased and flattered with a succession of good offices, tendered with cheerfulness and humility. Porpora began gradually to like the services of Haydn, and the wish to make him some return for them soon followed. This return was of a description of all others to Haydn the most valuable. Porpora began by teaching him the principles and execution of some of his own airs, many of which were extremely difficult; and he then proceeded to initiate him into all the sweetness and expression which have so long rendered Italy unrivalled in vocal music. He also taught him to accompany himself on the piano-forte with spirit and correctness-an art far more difficult of attainment than is generally imagined. In short, Haydn found himself greatly improved, both in taste and knowledge, by the acquaintance he had so fortunately formed with Porpora; and the ambassador, astonished at the rapid progress which this young man, apparently so friendless and destitute, had made in his house, generously endeavored to alleviate the poverty which only made his genius appear the more remarkable; and, on his return to Vienna, allowed him a monthly pension of six sequins, or about three

pounds sterling, and admitted him to the tables of his secretaries.

This act of kindness on the part of the ambassador was the beginning of Haydn's future prosperity. He was enabled by it to provide himself with a suit of black sufficiently respectable to allow him to present himself in any society that it might be desirable for him to frequent, and to instruct a few pupils; invariably closing his industrious day by sitting a part of the night at the harpsichord.

Haydn's first productions were some sonatas for the piano-forte; he wrote also a few minuets, waltzes, and serenatas, and the music for an opera, at the request of Curtz, the director of one of the principal theatres, and himself a celebrated buffa performer. For this, including the Tempest, Haydn received about twelve pounds sterling.

In 1758, Haydn obtained a situation in the establishment of Count Mortzen, who had an orchestra of his own, and gave musical parties every evening. Prince Antony Esterhazy, an ardent amateur, happened to attend one of these concerts, which opened with a symphony of Haydn's. The prince was so charmed with this piece, that he requested Count Mortzen to give up Haydn to him, being desirous of making him second leader in his own orchestra. Count Mortzen very generously consented; but, unfortunately, Haydn had not been introduced to the prince, being prevented by indisposition from attending the concert the evening he was present; and he heard no more of his appointment. He had, however, a kind friend in Friedberg, one of Prince Antony's composers, who greatly admired his talents, and determined to take an opportunity of bringing him to the prince's recollection. Accordingly, he requested him to compose a symphony to be performed at Eisenstadt, where the prince resided. Friedberg fixed on the prince's birthday for the introduction of the piece. Scarcely had the performers got to the middle of the first allegro, when the prince, who was seated on his throne and surrounded by his court, interrupted them, and asked who was the author of that fine composition. Haydn," replied Friedberg, making the trembling composer come forward at the same time. "What!" said the prince, "is it this man's music?" Poor Haydn's complexion was of a very sombre hue, and his countenance, when not lighted up with either genius or benevolence, wore an expression of corresponding gloom. It will be easily imagined that he did not appear to particular advantage on this remark. The prince, however, continued: "Well, Moor, henceforth you remain in my service. What is your name?" "Joseph Haydn." "Haydn! surely I remember that name; you are already engaged to me; how is it that I have not seen you before?" Haydn, abashed by the brilliant circle around him, could make no reply. The prince went on, with somewhat more encouragement in his manner-" Go, and dress yourself like a professor; do not let me see you any

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more in this trim-your appearance is not worthy of you." Haydn kissed the prince's hand, and retired to one corner of the orchestra, to meditate upon the figure he should make in his new costume. The next morning he appeared in it at the prince's levee, and had the title of Second Professor of Music conferred upon him. The first use that Haydn made of the competence thus secured to him was to acquit himself of his debt of gratitude to a perukemaker named Keller-who had given him an asylum when he was poor-by marrying his eldest daughter. The match, however, did not prove a happy one.

When Haydn had been in the service of Prince Antony twelve months, that nobleman died, and his title descended to Prince Nicholas, who was, if possible, a still more passionate lover of music. Attached to the services of a patron immensely rich, and fully capable of appreciating his talents; placed at the head of a grand orchestra, and possessing full leisure for study; Haydn now saw himself placed in that happy union of circumstances so rarely found, which at once excites the powers of genius and affords the opportunity of displaying them. From this time, his life was uniformly busy and tranquil.

We do not venture to enter into a critical account of Haydn's music. Its general character is that of romantic imagination. He has been compared to Ariosto or Shakspeare in poetry, and to Claude Lorraine in painting. Liberty and joy breathe throughout his works, the grateful exultation of a mind delighting in the innocent exercise of its exalted talents. He said himself that he was always most happy when he was at work. Haydn's most elaborate performance is the Oratorio of the Creation. He was sixty-three years of age when he began it, and employed two entire years upon it. Its success was in proportion to the pains he bestowed upon it. It was in England that Haydn composed some of his finest pieces.

The last time that Haydn appeared in public was at the palace of Prince Lobkowitz, at the performance of his own Creation by one hundred and sixty musicians, amidst a company of the most illustrious personages in Vienna, all assembled to do him honor. It was the proudest, the most affecting moment of his life; and he took his leave of that society, which he had so long delighted, with tears of gratitude, whilst the most heartfelt eulogiums were bestowed upon him in return. From this time he confined himself entirely to his house and small garden. The last spark of his original enthusiasm flamed forth when the French approached Vienna in 1809. He heard the cannonading of his beloved city. With the small remnant of voice that age had left him, he sang, God preserve the Emperor! It was the song of the swan. Whilst he was sitting at the

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THE STEREOSCOPE.

THE Stereoscope must rank amongst the most interesting and most marvellous of modern discoveries. With the aid of this instrument, we now possess the means of transmitting to posterity the exact image of all that is physically remarkable in the present day; at least so much as can be appreciated by the sense of vision.

Those who have not yet had an opportunity of witnessing the effect of photographic pictures in the Stereoscope, can form only a small idea of the amount of astonishment they have yet to experience. When Daguerreotype portraits are first seen with the Stereoscope, a feeling of regret is common to all that this discovery does not date from a more distant time. What would not be the value of a Stereoscope portrait-gallery of our greatest historical characters, including Shakspeare, presenting all the lifelike character, and resembling in every respect the reflection of the human face in a mirror. Unfortunately, the examples of past wonders, a sight of which we must now more than ever lament the loss of, are far too numerous; but now we do possess this astonishing power, it behoves us to think of the future, and not allow coming generations to accuse us of a selfish negligence in not leaving to them a legacy which science has placed at our disposal. It is to be hoped that galleries will be formed, containing all that is most remarkable in the animate and inanimate world of our own time, and that none of the great and beneficent characters of our day will pass away without leaving the light of their countenances for the admiration and laudable curiosity which real greatness must always create. To the generality of persons it must be inconceivable that the combination of two pictures nearly alike can produce such an extraordinary result; and, as the curiosity to know something of the "why and because" of this matter will be felt by all who know nothing of the laws by which the effect of solidity or distance is produced, may, perhaps, not be trespassing on your valuable space in attempting a popular explanation of how two perfectly flat pictures produce the effect of solidity.

Like cause produces like effect; hence like effects result from similar causes: consequently, as pictures in the Stereoscope present the appearance of nature, it is reasonable to conclude results so nearly alike are produced by similar means. Before entering directly on the causes which produce the effect of solidity, it will be better to clearly understand the qualities of natural images or pictures in their relations to the organs and sense of vision. When a house or landscape is looked at, it is found to pos

sess a quality which no copy on a flat surface by the hand of our greatest artists can produce. This is solidity or distance, and the appearance of objects standing immediately behind each other. In using this term solidity, it should be borne in mind that distance is the same thing; since solids are only made up of the relative distances of parts of a single object. To these qualities may be added another, which is the painting on the retina of each eye pictures of the same object, differing slightly in perspective. This last quality is peculiarly the property of natural pictures, and which distinguishes them especially from paintings. Distance or solidity only enables single objects to produce this curious effect, in which we shall see the resemblance in stereoscopic pictures; the latter, indeed, being only an imitation of the former. Another quality in natural pictures is the necessity of converging and diverging the axis of the eyes when regarding different parts of the picture; to this may also be added change of focus. This latter quality is familiar to all who have used a telescope or an opera-glass, and consists of the slight adaptation of the lenses for different parts of the natural picture. These effects of convergence and divergence of the eyes with focal change are also peculiar to solid objects. It will be readily understood that, as objects are more or less distant, the pupils of the eyes, when regarding them, converge or diverge towards or from each other; objects placed nearly in contact with the end of the nose compel the eyes to converge to the degree of squinting, whilst with distant objects they are nearly parallel.

The accompanying diagram will render this part of the subject quite clear. Suppose three objects in

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a direct line (e, d, f), and a third similar object in the position c: to the left eye (a) the object ƒ would be invisible; and to the right eye (b) the object e would be also invisible, from the intervention of e; but f is always visible to the right eye, and e to the left eye; consequently, with a pair of eyes, these objects are never invisible. This is the simple explanation of the power possessed by two eyes to see

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