صور الصفحة
النشر الإلكتروني

the sun.

of the representation of a sandal, and Molière's old woman could decide upon the nature of comic humor; but it is the artist and connoisseut alone, who can judge, appreciate, and feel the highest order of color, mo. dification, and expression.

The portrait painter also claims our attention and gratitude. He who gives to our weeping eyes the form of the beloved and departed friend; whose magic touch arrests beauty in its progress to decay, and whose pencil immortalizes the revered forms of the hero and the statesman; the syal-breathing expression of a Washington, a Franklin, and an Ames.

Painting may, perhaps, be said to be the acme of the arts, since it charms by so many various branches, and admits of such infinite variety of color and expression; but let not the “verba ardentia” of the poet be robbed of their honors. The lyre of a Milton, a Cowper, a Bryant, and a Wordsworth, can never breathe other than harmonious sounds. Their words melt into ideas, as the objects of nature gather light and color from

Shall we not allow the poet, then, his joys and honors ? Shall the emanations of his fancy shine on hearts cold and dead to its rays ? No! Through the tear of sensibility we see his power; we feel in the tender accents of the voice that trembles while it reads.

Since the pleasures derived from the Fine Arts are so exquisite, both to the artist and spectator, it cannot be doubted that our sources of happi ness might be greatly extended by their liberal cultivation. That arts and morals are materially connected, there is no doubt. Horace observes

Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes,

Emollit mores, nec sinit esse ferca." And could this spirit, this admiration of the beautiful, be generously cul tivated, the genius of our soil might proudly ascend the summit of Par nassus. Public favor is the most powerful stimulus to talent; exhibitions therefore, of the best productions, both in painting and sculpture, will have a tendency to diffuse a general taste, and to inspire a spirit of emulation, from which the most beneficial results may be anticipated. Let us not suffer the artists who now grace our shores to forsake us, for the want of that patronage which it should be our pride and pleasure to bestow We cannot, indeed, expect to rival the treasures of the Louvre or the Vatican; but from the exercise of native talent, and from the specimens of art we already possess, much may be expected. In the cabinets of private individuals in our city, may be found productions sufficient to form a choice collection for public exhibition, and it is to the liberality and patronage of their possessors that we look for such encouragement as shall stimulate the young artist to immortalize his name, and shed a lustre on his country.

[ocr errors]

Example 3d.

The Sentiment of Loyalty. Loyalty, in its primitive signification, implies fidelity to a king. Hence a loyal subject is one who promotes as far as possible the welfare of th kingdom, who assists in the maintenance of the liws, and in times of danger is ever ready to defend the life and honor of his scvereign, and to sacrifice himself for the good of his country.

This sentiment is natural to the human race. If we analyze our various feelings and emotions, we shall find that the sentiment of love is one of

he most powerful passions which nature has implanted in the breast of man; it is the most powerful, because, when excited and kindled, it burns with an ardor almost unquenchable; it warms and spurs the whole mar on ward towards the accomplishment of its object; impetuous and irresistible, it overcomes all obstacles which rise before it.

The sentiment of Loyalty is one of the manifestations of this love ; springing from that noble source, it flows onward till it meets the waters of other streams, which it deepens and purifies.

Since nature has given to man this sentiment of loyalty, it will always find suitable objects on which to bestow itself. Man was made for love ; he must have something to honor, respect, and admire ; something usually higher and nobler than himself; consequently, in despotic countries, honor and love are paid by a loyal people to their sovereign, who, being of a higher station, of a more venerated name, or of nobler descent than themselves, is entitled to this respect.

In our own country, we venerate the wisdom and prudence of our ancestors, who, in framing the articles of our constitution, provided for the good of succeeding generationis; and, at the present day, when we see a citizer devoting himself to the service of his country with that patriotic spirit which characterized our fathers, our affections are aroused, our lips send forth his praise, we hai! him as the defender of the Constitution, and the whole nation rises up to do him homage.

In England, recently, that loyalty, which for two preceding reigns had been slumbering, burst forth with redoubled vigor upon the accession of a female sovereign to the throne.

At the beginning of a new reign, the loyalty of a nation is always openly and warmly exhibited. But on that occasion, there was something in the fact, that their future sovereign was a youthful and accomplished queen, which excited in an unusual degree the hopes and sympathies of the nation. They hailed her accession as emblematical of peace and prosperity.

In the feudal times, in the times of chivalry and the Crusades, the knights were distinguished for their loyalty to the ladies of the court. In those days, the fame and beauty of the lady inspired her champion with courage and strength, and many a battle has been fought and many a vic tory won, under this spirit-stirring influence of loyalty.

Those were brilliant days for Europe, when chivalry stood forth in its might, and first gave birth to loyalty, – loyalty, which taught devotion and reverence to those weak, fair beings, who but in beauty and gentleness have no defence. “It raised love above the passions of the brute, and by dignifying woman, made woman worthy of love. It gave purity to enthu siasm, crushed barbarous selfishness, taught the heart to expand like a flower to the sunshine, beautified glory with generosity, and smoothed even the rugged brow of war.” But how have we degenerated ? “ The age of chivalry is gone; never, never more shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified odedience, that sub ordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom!"

But though the sentiment of loyalty has greatly degenerated, it is not wholly extinct; it is now occasionally expressed, but its flame is faint and flickering; should it ever expire, it will go hand in hand with patriotism, and will expire with that faith which gave it life.

To conceive truly what we should then lose, we need only reflect, that loyalty is the bond of society and friendship, it rinites all the best affections of the heart in one common cause, it holds a sac: ed place not to be invaded with impunity, it is respected and'honored by the old, and the stories of ite valor delight the young, and

"Though well held, to foois aoth make
Our faith mere foliy. yet he that can endure
To follow with allegiance a fallen lord,
Doth conquer him, that did his master conquer."



The Pleasures and Pains of the Student
When envious time, with unrelenting hand,
Dissolves the union of some little band,
A band connected by those hallowed ties,
That from the birth of lettered friendship rise,
Each lingering soul, before the parting

One moment waits, to view the years gone by;
Memory still loves to hover o'er the place,
And all our pleasures and our pains retrace.

The Student is the subject of my song,
Few are his pleasures, — yet those few are strong.
Not the gay, transient moment of delight,
Not hurried transports felt but in their flight.
Unlike all else, the Student's joys endure,
Intense, expansive, energetic, pure;
Whether o'er classic plains he loves to rove,
'Midst Attic bowers, or through the Mantuan grove, tea
Whether, with scientific eye, to trace

The various modes of number, time, and space,
Whether on wings of heavenly truth to rise,
And penetrate the secrets of the skies,
Or downwards tending, with an humble eye,

Through Nature's laws explore a Deity,
His are the joys no stranger breast can feel,
No wit define, no utterance reveal.

Nor yet, alas! unmixed the joys we boast, Our pleasures still proportioned labors cost. An anxious tear oft fills the Student's eye, And his breast heaves with many a struggling sigh. His is the task, the long, long task, t explore Of every age the lumber and the lore. Need I describe his struggles and his strife, The thousand minor miseries of his life, How Application, never-tiring maid, Oft mourns an aching, oft a dizzy head? How the hard toil but slowly makes its way, One word explained, the labor of a day, Here forced to explore some labyrinth without end And there some paradox to comprehend ? Here ten hard words fraught with some meaning small, And there ten folios fraught with none at all. Or view him meeting out with points and lines The land of diagrams and mystic signs,

there stops

Where forms of spheres“ being given” on a plane,
He must transform and bend within his brain.
Or as an author, lost in gloom profound,
When some bright thought demands a period round
Pondering and polishing; ah, what avail
The room oft paced, the anguish-bitten nail ?
For see, produced ’mid many a laboring groan,
A sentence much like an inverted cone.
Or should he try his talent at a rhyme,
That waste of patience and that waste of time,
Perchance, like me, he flounders out one line,
Begins the next,

Enough, no more unveil the cloister's griet,
Disclose those sources whence it finds relief.
Say how the Student, pausing from his toil,
Forgets his pain 'mid recreation's smile.
Have you not seen, - forgive the ignoble theme, --
The winged tenants of some haunted stream
Feed eager, busy, by its pel bly side,
Then wanton in the cool, luxuriant tide ?
So the wise student ends his busy day,
Unbends his mind, and throws his cares away.
To books where science reigns, and toil severe,
Succeeds the alluring tale, or drama dear;
Or haply in that hour his taste might choose
The easy warblings of the modern ruse.
Let me but paint him void of every care,
Flung in free attitude across his chair.
From page to page his rapid eye along
Glances and revels through the magic song;
Alternate swells his breast with hope and fear,
Now bursts the unconscious laugh, now falls the pitying iear
Yet more; though lonely joys the bosom warm,
Participation heightens every charm;
And should the happy student chance to know
The warmth of friendship, or some kindlier glow,
What wonder should he swiftly run to share
Some favorite author with some favorite fair!
There, as he cites those treasures of the page
That raise her fancy, or her heart engage,
And listens while her frequent, keen remark
Discerns the brilliant, or illumes the dark,
And doubting much, scarce knows which most to admire
The critic's judgment, or the writer's fire,
And reading often glances at that face,
Where gently beam intelligence and grace,
And sees each passion in its turn prevail,
Her looks the very echo of the tale;
Sees the descending tear, the swelling breast,
When vice exults, or virtue is distressed ;
Or, when the plot assumes an aspect new,
Aud virtue shares her retribution due,
He sees the grateful smile, th’ uplifted eye,

Thread, needle, kerchief, dropt in ecstasy,
Say, can one social pleasure equal this?

Yet still even here imperfect is the bliss.
For ah! how oft must awkward learning yield
To graceful dulness the unequal field
Of gallantry? What lady can endure
The shrug scholastic, or the bow demure ?
Can the poor student hope that heart to gain
Which melts before the futter of a cane?
Or, of two characters, which shall surpass,
Where one consults his books, and one his glase *
Ye fair, if aught these censures may apply,
'Tis yours to effect the surest remedy;
Ne'er should a fop the sacred bond remove
Between the Aonian and the Paphian grove.
‘T is yours to strengthen, polish, and secure
The lustre of the mind's rich garniture;
This is the robe that lends you heavenly charms,
And envy of its keenest sting disarms,
A rode whose grace and richness will outvie
The woof of Ormus, or the Tyrian dye.

To count one pleasure more, indulge my muse. --
'Tis friendship's self,—what cynic will refuse?
0, I could tell how oft her joys we've shared,
When mutual cares those mutual joys endeared,
How arm in arm we've lingered through the vale,
Listening to many a time-beguiling tale.
How oft, relaxing from one common toil,
We've found repose amid one common smile.
Yes, I could tell

, but O, the task how vain !
'T would but increase our fast approaching pain;
The pain so thrilling to a student's heart,
Couched in that talisman of woe, we part. .



A dissertation is a formal discourse intended to illustrate 1 subject, and the term is properly applied to performances of an argumentative nature.

Dissertations are principally employed on disputed points of literature and science. *

* See Bentley's “Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris " and so Pat's 'Dissertations on the Egyptians and Chinese.”

« السابقةمتابعة »