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“From sylvan hills to cliffs that line the deep, shall “hollo” in what vein I choose: discoursing, as The beacon fires like flashing meteors leap;

freely of the "sermons in stones, books in the running On earthern mound the patriot banner gleams, brooks, and good in every thing," as I have hitherto And high o'er all the startled eagle screams;

done, and shall yet do, of those eloquent "tongués in The powers shall fail who seek to chain the mind trees,” some of whose teachings I have endeavored to And whirlwinds they shall reap who sow the wind. translate, for the benefit of the indulgent reader.

And, by the bye;-did you see that most horrible of "Woe! woe! to Britain! trembling tyrant hence ;

horrid puns, in what one “W” has written in the NaNo longer mock ye, with a 'vain pretence;

tional Intelligencer, about your sylvan correspondent ? This glorious land, by Pilgrims' children trod, Heintimates that I have raised in his mind the presumpShall own no master but the living God !

tion, that I am lineally descended from Titus Oates, Up all ye drones ! ye cankering spirits fly!

“because vy?" Because I have written Trees-on! Is. Hear while ye may-10-morrow you may die !"

not that too bad? What-a-stone must have been the Then couching in its rest his pondrous lance,

heart of the perpetrator of such a pun! But all this, He waves his plume and gives a lightning glance:

episodically.- Revenons' a moutons. Down, down the midnight street he holds his way

Here is a string of the dog’s-eared passages alluded Around his charger's heels the lightnings play;.

to, which were turned down for use, but were not used, High o'er the house-tops shoots the awful glow,

in the tree papers. I take them as hey present themAnd faint and fainter rings his cry of woe.


1. A LANDSCAPE, FROM POPE. The awe-struck leader stands with list’ning ear;

“See Pan with flocks, with fruits Pomona crowned, Before him sweep the mourners and the bier ;

Here, blushing Flora paints the enamelled ground: Beside him yawns the soldier's hasty grave,

Here, Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand, And drums low beat the dead march of the brave.

And, nodding, tempt the joyful reaper's hand.” He starts ! o'er western hills the night has curled,

2. A NIGHT SKETCH, BY GAY. And morning's crimson bathes a waking world.

“But when the gloomy reign of night returns, The night has pass’d--the spectre gone;

Stript of her fading pride all nature nourns. And, hark! upon the tented lawn,

The trees no more their wonted verdure boast, From idle lounge and beauty's charms,

But weep in dewy tears their beauty lost.” The pealing bugles call to arms!


THE GRAVE;" BY BLAIR. The die is cast—and with the sun

“Oh! when my friend and I, Night sinks on blood-stain'd Lexington.

In some thick wood have wandered heedless on, And who was he, who 'mid the gloom,

Hid from the vulgar eye, and sat us down, Declared the vile oppressors' doom?

Upon the sloping cowslip-covered bank, Whose armor spake of olden day,

Where the pure limpid spring has slid along, When belted knights held honor's sway ?

In grateful errors, through the underwood, A spectre he, from noble urn,

Sweet murmuring; methought the shrill-tongued thrush The Bruce-the Bruce, of Bannockburn.

Mended his song of love," &c. Washington, January, 1839.

J. E, D.

“Ye woodlands all, awake! A boundless song

Burst from the groves! And when the restless day,

Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep,

Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela, charm

The listening shades, and teach the night His praise !"


"Far in the windings of a vale, Now the truth of the matter is this, my dear Mes

Fast by a sheltering wood, senger: Some perhaps much too partial friends, have The safe retreat of health and peace, seen fit to suggest the continuation of those sylvan ar

An humble cottage stood.”. ticles, some seven or eight of which have already ap John Dyer, the author of "The Fleece" and "Grongar peared in your pages from my pen. They throw in Hill,” is a true sylvan. He worships Pan with the true my teeth the following passage from the closing paper devotion of an orthodox believer. See ! of the series, published in your December number, and

6. A MOONLIGHT SCENE, IN FIVE LINES.-Dyer. insist upon my using up my material instanter : “A mass of pencillèd passages, marked in 'my books, by

"When many-colored evening sinks behind

The purple woods and hills, and opposite numerous dog's-ears offer themselves, for quotation,” &c.

Rises, full-orbed, the silver harvest-moon, &c. If you agree, I certainly can have no objection, other than the fear of boring the reader beyond his

To light the unwearied farmer, late afield,

His scattered sheaves collecting,” &c. bearing; and so, if he will promise to cry "ohe! jam satis !" when he finds me “coming it rayther too strong,”

7. A GLIMPSE FROM GRONGAR HILL.-Dyer. as Samivel Veller would say, here goes !

“Below me trees unnumbered rise, But I shall not confine myself to the forest in this Beautiful in various dyes: new series of papers. I am “out of the woods," and The gloomy pine, the poplar blue,

The yellow birch, the sable yew,

Fancy's fair buds, the germs of song,
The slender fir, that taper grows,

Unquickened midst the world's rude strife,
The sturdy oak, with broad-spread boughs.” Shall sweet retirement render strong,

And morning silence bring to life!
Musing through the lawny park,

“Then tell me not that I shall grow
The lonely poet loves to mark

Forlorn,—that fields, and woods will cloy:
How various greens in faint degrees

From Nature, and her changes, flow
Tinge the tall groups of various trees.
While, careless of the changing year,

An everlasting tide of joy !

I grant, that summer heats will burn,
The pine cerulean (?) never sere,

That keen will come the frosty night,-
Towers distinguished from the rest,

But both shall please, -and each, in turn,
And proudly vaunts her winter-vest."

Yield reason's most supreme delight.
“Has fair Philosophy thy love?

“Build me a shrine, and I could kneel
Away! she lives in yonder grove !

To rural gods,-or, prostrate fall;
If the sweet Muse thee pleasure gives,

Did I not see, did I not feel,
With her, in yonder grove, she lives !

That one Great Spirit governs all.
And if Religion claim thy care,

Oh Heaven! permit that I may lie
Religion, fled from books, is there ;

Where o'er my corse green branches wave;
For first from Nature's works we drew

And those, who from life's tumult fly,
Our knowledge, and our virtue too !"

With kindred feelings press my grave !”. This should have been selected as the standing motto There's “the baker's dozen !" Perhaps I will give of the tree papers.” So apt!

you another batch, (to continue the metaphor,) hereafter. Here is a fine passage, from “The Village Curate,” | Ac present, I have a word or two of my own to say a poem by James Hurdis, an English poet, who died to you. in 1301.

You may remember that the article you did me the 10. A BOOK TO READ.-Hurdis.

honor to publish in your December number was dated -Let us read

at Newbury port, in the state of Massachusetts. I had The living page, whose every character

intended to say something therein of that most beautiDelights, and gives us wisdom. Not a tree,

ful of spots, but feared to tire the reader's patience. It A plant, a leaf, a blossom, but contains

is my native town, and rich, in my estimation, with a A folio volume. We may read, and read,

thousand treasured recollections. Beautifully situated And read again, and still find something new upon the banks, and near the mouth, of one of the love. Something to please, and something to instruct.”

liest of American rivers, the Merrimack, down towards 11. A PRETTY SIMILE.-Hurdis.

the margin of which it slopes gently, it affords a fine

view from the river of its regularly laid out streets, and * But mark, with what peculiar grace yon wood,

handsome buildings. It is about a mile in length, with That clothes the weary steep, waves in the breeze Her sea of leares !

a pretty and populous village adjoining it on each ex

tremity, through all of which for some miles extends a 12. THE TRUE WOOD-FEELING.-Hurdis.

wide street, bordered with fine old elms and syca"How peaceable and solemn a retreat,

mores, some of which are of enormous growth, and This wood affords! I love to quit the glare

most affluent profusion of foliage. The upper side Of sultry day, for shadows cool as these :

of this long street is the highest part of the town, The sober twilight of this winding way

and forms the summit of the hill upon which the whole Lets fall a serious gloom upon the mind,

is laid out, amphitheatrically. This ridge is chiefly Which checks, but not appals. Such is the haunt

occupied with dwelling houses of tasteful architecture, Religion loves,-a meek and humble maid,

surrounded by verdant parks, and ample gardens, with Whose tender eye bears not the blaze of day.” an abundance of trees. There is a beautiful public

“The farmer boy" was a true poet of nature. Hear common upon this street, in the rear of which, deep him!

sunken in the midst of a circular range of hills, is a 13. WOODLAND CONTENTMENT.-Bloomfield.

little lake, famous in that vicinity as the skating ground, “Welcome silence! welcome peace !

for more than one century, of more than four generaOh! most welcome, holy shade!

tions. While I was enjoying my late visit to these Thus I prove, as years increase,

scenes of my childhood, I derived much enhancement My heart and soul for quiet made.

of that enjoyment from watching the progress of an Thus I fix my firm belief,

improvement then going on, upon the margin of this While rapture's gushing tears descend,

mimic lake, which was peculiarly gratifying to my That every tree and every leaf

feelings and my taste. They were extending the proIs moral Trulh's unerring friend.

menade in front entirely round the pond, so as to take

in the entire amphitheatre of hills, as a part of the “I would not, for a world of gold,

common. This done, the citizens were called on, each That Nature's lovely face should tire;

who might wish to do so, to set out, his favorite tree Fountain of blessings yet untold !

upon the newly laid out grounds. The call was resPure source of intellectual fire!

ponded to with prompt alacrity, and ere I left the


J. F. 0.

banks of the Merrimack, the whole of the new prome “Where is Beauty ? where? nade was lined with a double row of thrifty young

Shall none its image find ?” trees, each planted by individuals, to be cherished as Earth cried-and Heav'n responded there, the legacy of one generation to another. This may be

“'Tis in the immortal mind!” called the true practice of what your“ tree" correspon

Maine. dent has so long been preaching. May the preaching and practice alike increase! There certainly is need enough of both, in this delightful, wonderful, matter-of THE BONES OF LEIPSIC. fact country of ours! Adieu for another month!

“A ship laden with bones from Hamburgh arrived at Lossiemouth, on the 25th of Oct. 1529, the property of an agriculu. rist of Morayshire, and intended for manure. The master of the vessel states that these bones were collected from the plains and marshes of Leipsic, and are part of the remains of the thou

sands of brave men who fell in the sanguinary battles fought BEAUTY.

between France and the Allies, in Oct. 1813."-. Imperial Maga

zine, London, 1829. WRITTEN FOR MISS EMILY S-Y.

The bones of the heroes! yes, bear them away “Where is Beauty? where ?"

From the spot where they fell on that blood-flowing day,

When Leipsic's wide marshes and trampled plains rung Earth's thousand voices cried;

To the cannons' wild music as dreadful they sung ; And an answer, mute, filled earth and air,

The captain and soldier no longer are known-
From nature, far and wide.

No crest speaks the rank, and no gold gilds the bone.
The Alpine flower sprang up
High, in the cleft rock's side,

And England, -the power that o'er Waterloo rollid And the tulip lifted her gorgeous cup

Her legions undaunted in crimson and gold,

And bore to the isle, in the midst of the wave,
By the dahlia-Tyrian-dyed.

The ruler of princes, the brave of the brave,-
And rose with graceful care

Has now their white bones on her cold hill-sides spread, Unveil'd her glowing breast-

Gathered up by the boor from the field of the dead. Gems of the morning glittering there

Ha! there lies the arm of a prince of the blood,
Like a maid for bridal drest.

And there a tall grenadier rests in the mud, "Where is Beauty ? where ?"

And yonder the spider his light web has spun,
Cried echo from her cell ;

Round the skull of the chief, and the breech of a gun; And the forest wav'd, and the streamlet there

The worm has dined well with the wolf and the raven,

And the blood of the bold tinges that of the craven.
In a silvery cascade fell.
The light clouds, floating high,

And say, ye philanthropist, shall not the dust
Threw shadows o'er the green;

of the bones of ambition and rapine and last, And an unseen hand drew out on high

Bring good to mankind, when they fatten the soil, The bow of tinted sheen.

And hasten the end of the husbandman's toil

Make the tall grass to wave and the moss rose to bloom, The setting sun-beams threw

Where floated the banner and futtered the plume ? On earth a livelier tinge, And the clouds of a royal-purple hue

There leave them to moulder, both horseman and horse, Were edged with a golden fringe.

They slumber as sound as on rampart or fosse;

And plainer the lessons they leach shall be read, Then autumn's wondrous wand

Than when they lay whitening the field of the dead : Touch'd forest, hill and sky,

There pride may be taught, how the proudest have sank, And sky and bill and forest land

When the wolf howled their dirge as the warm blood Did glow most gorgeously.

he drank.

And when the last trumpet of terror shall sound, “Where is Beauty ? where ?

And the dead muster strong from the deep and the Earth's eager ones still cried ;

groundAnd the lover with exulting air

When the Book of Offences is opened before,
Led forth his beauteous bride.

With its pages of crimson and letters of gore;
The mother gazed with joy

Then ye shall be counted more worthy than they,
On the babe at her breast that lay,

Who on the lone battle-field mouldered away.
And glanc'd at the shouting, gold-hair'd boy,

Oh Leipsic! before me I see thee appcar,
With the butterflies at play.

With thy hosts rushing on in their downward career ;

Thy eagles of gold, that in darkness grew dim, Whirlwind and plague and storms,

Thy death note, that pealed from the cannon's dark rim,
Revell'd in earth and air,

Thy onset, thy meeting, thy slaughter, thy fall,
Midst Beauty, in its thousand forms;

Thy conquerors' shout, and thy bugles' recall.
And Death stood victor there.

Washington, 1839.

J. E.

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dramatic art to be more highly esteemed, and the emperors themselves would occasionally condescend to

dispute the crown with a gladiator or a player. HisACTORS.

lory informs us that the empress Domitia died of love

for an actor named Paris. Caligula made A pelles a It is a curious fact, that the greatest actors have been minister of his intimate councils; but this monster, it produced in those nations, where they have been the is well known, was very capricious—for, having heard least esteemed as men. Among the Romans the thea on one occasion, the cries of a poor player, whom they trical art was carried to a higher state of perfection than were flagellating, as was then the custom, he thought among the Greeks, and the Romans held actors as his voice so very melodious, that, to prolong the pleasia ves, while in Greece they were freemen, and devoted sure he experienced, he caused the flagellation to be reto a profession which was far from being considered as peated. In the reign of Constantine, after he had emdishonorable. Among a people so lively, ardent, and braced the christian religion, the dramatic art was despirited, this art made rapid progress. Eschylus is nounced by the councils, and players were proscribed. said to have performed in his own tragedies, and players St. Leo, in his epistles, has declared, that theatrical were sometimes elevated to the offices of state. Among spectacles having been invented to corrupt the heart then may be found ambassadors and ministers. Aris- and destroy the soul, no one can doubt but that the todemus, the actor, was sont by Athens, as one of the Devil assists in person, in all these exhibitions—and in ten ambassadors, to treat with Philip of Macedon, who all past ages players have been pursued by the thundid not look upon it as offensive. The most ancient ders of the church. But notwithstanding this hostility, Greek tragedian of whom we have any knowledge, theatrical representations were at last introduced into was Archelaus. Lucian says of him, that when in cathedrals and monasteries. Scriptural subjects were Abdera, he personated the character of Perseus in the frequently thrown into a dramatic form during the midAndromeda of Euripides, and the effect of his perfor- dle ages, and exhibited by monks. These were called mance was such that almost all the spectators were MYSTERIES, or the Sacred Comedy, and originated, acaffected by a species of insanity, and ran about the cording to Warton, in the following manner. At the streets for several days animated by the same passions, fairs, established by Charlemagne in France, and Wilrepeating the same gestures, and exhibiting the same liam the Conqueror, and his Norman successors in Eng. fury as Archelaus. Satyrus, who distinguished himself land, the merchants, for the purpose of drawing to them as an actor, after Archelaus, though his acting had not large assemblages of people, employed jugglers, minthe same effect, was, nevertheless, of great service to strels and buffoons to amuse those who attended. The Demosthenes. It was be who corrected the defects of arts of these men were gradually extended and imhis elocution, and who taught him finally to declaim proved, till the clergy observing that these annual celewith as much elegance as himself. This celebrated brations made the people less religious, by producing orator had been ignorant of the art of giving force and idleness and a love of festivals, proscribed the amusegrace to his orations, by a just and impressive elocu- ments and excommunicated the performers. But findLion. His enunciation was embarrassed, painful, and ing that little or no regard was paid to their censures, defective, and he was often hissed in the midst of his they determined to take these recreations into their own finest discourses. Satyrus took him in charge, and hands, and turned actors themselves, and represented succeeded in removing all his defects of elocution. stories taken from the Bible. Music was introduced Greece, however, does not seem to have produced any into the churches, which were employed as the theatres, actor of very great eminence in his art, while the Roman for the representation of holy comedies or farces, such writers speak in high terms of their Æsopus and as the festivals among the French called the fete des Roscius, though the profession itself was regarded as Four, de l'ane, el des Innocens, which became great fainfamous. Cicero has given to the actor the title of vorites. Thus originated the Mysteries or Sacred utist; and the two players referred to, by their superior Drama, which is said to have given rise to the first contalents and skill, caused the unjust humiliation of their ception of Milton's sublime epic, the Paradise Lost. state to be forgotten. These two men, the one in tra- Warton also mentions a curious tragedy, written by a gedy, and the other in comedy, attained to great dis- Jew named Ezekiel, in which the principal characters tinction and wealth. Their income must have been were Moses, Sapphira, and God, from the Bush. It immense. Roscius is said to have received daily about one was the first scriptural drama, and written after the dehundred and eighty dollars. Æsop gave an entertainment struction of Jerusalem, to animate, Warton supposes, on one occasion, at which a single dish was served up the dispersed Jews with the hopes of a future deliverwhich cost from three to four thousand dollars, and he ance. Moses delivers the prologue, and his rod is turndied worth several millions. It is related of this actor, ed into a serpent on the stage. The following is a brief that from the impulse of genius and enthusiasm, he so description of another of these religious dramas. The identified himself with the character he was personating, play opens with songs-a little boy first enters, and that he slew an actor near him, whom he mistook for after wishing the audience great pleasure from the exThiestes. Disgraceful as this art was esteemed, how- hibition, retires. The Devil then makes his appearance, ever-for the Papian law absolutely interdicted the who drives before him, with a whip, a poor old man, marriage of Roman senators with women who had ever who makes known to him his infirmities; but the inferexhibited themselves on the stage-Roman knights nal spirit, instead of being moved by pity, twists a serwere sometimes found willing to appear on the boards, pent round his neck, which holds an apple in his jaws. even before the downfall of the republic. After this, The old man sinks senseless on the ground. Death theatrical enthusiasm continued to increase, and the comes, and is preparing to carry off the body, when Je

Vol. V.-3

sus Christ rushes before it, and with a blow of the lation that an actor would participate with him in the
cross puts Death and the Devil to flight. He then joys of Paradise.
touches the old man, who is Adam, and who revives by Modern nations do not seem to be less prejudiced
the power of his touch-puts a crown upon his head, against the professors of the dramatic art than the an-
and after making him repeat his prayers, carries him cients. France has produced perhaps the greatest num-
to heaven. The second act exhibits the ten command-ber of skilful and distinguished actors, and yet a strong
ments, and the third the sacrament of baptism. Tar- prejudice exists against them in that nation. In En-
tarus is then taken, stripped of his habiliments, cast gland, however, this prejudice is not carried to quite
into a cave, and bathed in several pails of water. This so great a length. Actors of talent are sometimes re-
is followed by a number of buffooneries and when the ceived into the best society, and many into families of
play ends, the same little boy reappears and makes his high rank. Lord Chatham corresponded with Gar-
respects anew to the audience.

rick, and his ashes repose in Westminster Abbey, The church has always denounced theatrical amuse where those of Byron have been refused admittance. ments and those who have made acting a profession. In this country public opinion is not so favorable to Christian burial has been denied to them-and even in the professional player as to the professor of the fine the present century a cure of Paris refused his prayers arts; although I do not think the one is less an artist and church to a beautiful danseuse of France. Yet, what than the other, or less entitled to the respect and admiwill appear somewhat singular, the stage, after all, has ration which genius and skill in those arts are calculated furnished a greater number of saints than most other to beget. A little of the old puritanical feeling still professions. The lawyers can boast of St. Ives—the subsists among the descendants of those who brought physicians and surgeons, of St. Comes and St. Damian- with them the strong prejudices which formerly existed the notaries, of St. Crispin, the protector of shoemakers; in England against players; but this is beginning to while the players claim one martyr, St. Gelasin—three wear rapidly away, and a more liberal, enlightened and male saints, namely saints Genest, Ardaleon and Por- rational sentiment respecting them and their profession phyrus, and one female saint, St. Pelagius. The latter now very generally prevails. The most distinguished flourished in the fifth century, and exercised her art at for talent are admitted freely into the best society, and Antioch. She was converted by the preaching of admired and respected in proportion to their genius as Nonus, and, from that moment, renounced the world, artists and their character as men. But in the United its pleasures and pursuits, sold her property, and dis- States, where the most splendid field is opened to legal tributed the proceeds among the poor. She left Anti- and medical talent and industry, the occupation of a “poor och, dressed in male habiliments, and, taking the player, who struts and frets his hour upon the stage,” is name of Pelagius, retired near Jerusalem, upon the not one, however alluring the fame may be which it promount of Olives, where she lived as a recluse and led mises, that will induce many to follow it. In this proa very austere and religious life. The fame of her fession, however, no ordinary man can attain perfection good works spread in a short time far and near, and or fame. A great actor must be a man of genius-must she became in the end quite a celebrated saint. It was unite to the intellectual many of the best physical pownot, however, till after her death that her sex was disers. The tragedian should be the creature of passion, covered. Genest lived in the reign of Dioclesian who and possess great sensibility and intelligence, as well ordered him to exhibit the christian mysteries, for the as a fine person and a good voice. He should, accordpurpose of turning them into ridicule. One day, as ing to Talma, (himself an admirable model,) be gifted Genest was exhibiting the ceremonies of baptism, he with an imagination which “associates him with the is said to have been suddenly illuminated by an inter- inspiration of the poet, transports him back to times nal light, and publicly declared his wish to be baptised. that are past, and renders him present and identified This was at first supposed to be a mere feint to exhibit with those historical personages or impassioned beings, his character with greater effect. He was made to that have been created by genius—that reveal to him, perform all the usual ceremonies-re-clad in a white as if by magic, their physiognomy, their heroic stature, robe, conducted before a statue of Venus, and ordered to their language, their habits, all the shades of their chaworship it. But Genest openly protested that he was a racter, all the movements of their soul, and all their real christian, and would not worship either prostitutes peculiarities, and that enable him to enter into the most or wooden idols. This afforded much mirth to the tragic situations and the most terrible of the passions, audience at first, and the emperor himself supposed it as if they were his own.” These remarks are very was a mere piece of pleasantry in the actor; but as just. To express passion in all its shades and varieties, soon as they found he was in earnest, the lictors were it must be felt, and the actor must be subjected to all ordered to advance and he was publicly whipped on the extremes and vicissitudes of passion, and consult the stage. Genest, however, remaining firm to his and study in his own nature, before he can exhibit them new faith, Dioclesian sent him to the prefect, and he in all the truth and power of reality. “In

my own was put to the torture; but nothing could vanquish person, (says the same tragedian,) in any circumhis constancy, and he was finally decapitated in the stance of my life in which I experienced deep soryear 303. Porphyrus and Ardaleon, both players, row, the passion of the theatre was so strong in me, obtained the honor of martyrdom in the same manner. that although oppressed with real sorrow, and in the They were both converted while representing the chris. midst of the tears I shed, I made, in spite of myself, tian mysteries, and both beheaded. It was the opinion a rapid and fugitive observation on the alteration of St. Thomas that the dramatic art had nothing unlaw. of my voice, and on a certain spasmodic vibration, ful in it, and he cites the authority of St. Paphnucius, which it contracted in tears-and I say it not withwho asserts that it was communicated to him in a reve out some shame, I even thought of making use of it

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