Then will he fit his tongue To dialogue of business, love, or strife; Ere this be thrown aside, And with new joy and pride The little actor cons another part; Filling from time to time his "humorous stage" Were endless imitation. Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep On whom those truths do rest, Broods like the day, a master o'er a slave, Oh! joy, that in our embers Is something that doth live, The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benedictions: not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest; Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast: Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise ; Blank misgivings of a creature Moving about in worlds not realized, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Uphold us, - cherish, and have power to make Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Can in a moment travel thither, And see the children sport upon the shore, Then sing, ye birds, sing, sing a joyous song! As to the tabor's sound! We, in thought, will join your throng, Ye that through your hearts to-day What though the radiance which was once so bright Though nothing can bring back the hour Strength in what remains behind, Which having been must ever be, In the faith that looks through death, And O ye fountains, meadows, hills, and groves, To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the brooks, which down their channels fret, The clouds that gather round the setting sun EXERCISE CXCII. PORTIA'S DESCRIPTION OF HER WOOERS. Portia and Nerissa. Shakspeare. Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is a-weary of this great world. Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are: and yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean: superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. plicity is everywhere apparent. Her subject is so clearly presented and moulded, that the form involuntarily presents itself, and in the most unambiguous manner. The charms of her pleasing style, however, are heightened by the richness and chasteness of the contents. They consist of pictures of real life, striking, calculated to excite reflection, well selected, attractive, illuminated with taste, and with a background of strong common sense; — in outline, disposition and colouring, all conceived and finished with the same ability. With all the palpable connection of the subjects, between which a family resemblance is soon detected, the variety of incidents and characters is very great. The conceptions, it is true, exhibit no marks of a fiery or luxuriant imagination; but they are neither barren nor uniform; and in no case are they wanting in the charms of novelty or originality. In every new volume, new characters are brought forward, which, although we may imagine that we have in part heard or seen them before; yet being exhibited in another dress and under other circumstances, or in another point of view, are no specimens of every-day individuality. In the delineation of character, our authoress evinces uncommon skill. Not only the principal actors, but several of the inferior ones, are sharply and truly-defined portraits, which possess not only the appearance of life, but have, in fact, a substantial life; they stand, move, speak, and act before us; and we are continually taxing our memories for the originals, the counterparts of which the versatile authoress has placed before our eyes; we have a dim remembrance of having, somewhere or other, during our lives, encountered each one of them. But it is far from being the case that every-day forms, - those which every one is already acquainted with, are all that are presented before us: even those readers who have lived much in the world, and have associated with many men, will here make new and interesting acquaintances, whose images they will ever fondly retain in memory. As the marks of truth and nature are everywhere impressed upon these portraits, so there are some which are conceived and drawn with peculiar force. Seldom has the graver, in the hands of a female, drawn and finished such sharply-defined and forcible characters. Born upon a Finland estate, not far from Abo, Frederika Bremer was, in her earliest years, removed to Sweden, where her father was an extensive land-proprietor. The simple life of the family glided calmly away from spring to autumn in the country, and from autumn to spring in the capital city, with agreeable society in either place; their time being taken up principally in the household duties, in familiar readings, where attention was mostly directed to the German classics, and the practice of the arts. Each daughter of the house availed herself of the means of education here offered, each one, according to her own peculiar taste and disposition, and painted a future glowing with all the enchantment of a lively and excited imagination. It may be mentioned as characteristic, that our poetess, in all her visions, foresaw herself a warrior heroine. A sad reality, a deep and bitter melancholy, the origin of which, in consideration of her reluctance to explain it, we can only surmise, here drew like a dark gloomy cloud over the life of the young maiden; for many a year did she struggle with it; but at length she came out victorious, free, and strong. "The illusions of youth are dissolved; the springtime of youth is past." But a new youth, light, and freedom, have arisen in the purified soul, and, with renovated strength, she goes to the daily work which she has recognized as her、 calling. She began early, even when but a girl, to write, yet t is but lately that she has allowed any of her productions to e printed. "I wrote under the impulse of youthful and stless feelings; I wrote that I might write. Latterly, I have resumed the pen under far different influences; but upon what these are, she is silent. On the verge of the autumn of life, she still delights in the same cheerful society to which she has been accustomed from her earliest spring days, and in the possession of a beloved mother and sister. For the future, she has no other wish than that she may perfect the labours which she has undertaken, to which her former writings "form the beginning." Thus we may still expect many a ripe and rich offering from her; if her health remains as sound, and her heart as fresh, as the past warrants us in assuming. These revelations from the life of the authoress, give a key to the peculiar delineation and colouring of several of the female characters in her romances, a high-souled resignation, a calm and impartial contemplation of the world, a rising above the opposition of circumstances, the joys of the peaceful life of a confiding family circle, together with a lively interest in all the noble and beautiful that lies beyond |