nineties will be in course; and so it goes on. Let us ately swam to his assistance, and providentially the see to improve the hours, and not be taken unpre-two reached the shore without being again attacked. I pared.

ALLIGATORS OF THE VALLEY OF THE AMAZON.

EXTRACTED FROM A PRIVATE LETTER.

deep scars and the useless arm-for it seems impro-
bable that he will ever again be able to move his elbow
or his shoulder—will remain to tell the tale to his dying
day.

NEW BOOKS.

"HOURS OF LIFE, AND OTHER POEMS," is the title of a new volume, just issued at Providence, by Sarah Helen Whitman. With the exception of Alexander Smith's book there has been no issue of poems for a long time, that so vividly bears the impress of the divine fire, that gives so many evidences of the dawn of a new genius amongst us, as this volume of Mrs. Whitman's. It is winning everywhere golden opinions, and Mrs. Whitman is fast attaining an exalted stand among our native poets. She evinces in her lines the highest culture, the most delicate imagination, and the highest appreciation of the beautiful in nature and art. Her minor pieces are graceful and finished productions, evincing a passionate love of nature, and a thorough acquaintance with her. They perhaps strike no deep chords, arouse no new emotions, but they are warm and mellow, richly endowed with fancy, and fully satisfy the sentiment. But the principal poem of the volume, Hours of Life, is of a higher and a loftier strain. Here she sings of the passions and the emotions of the human heart, and with her subject she often rises grandly. The poem opens with a description of her infancy, the Morning of Life

That this, however, does occur now and then we saw fearful evidence. When we were placed near a sitio, a little below the upper mouth of the Ranos, I learned that the Victoria' had been seen in a small lake near; and as I wished to trace the distribution of this plant in the Valley of the Amazon, I was anxious to verify the report, and likewise to procure specimens; but there was no montaria-as canoes hollowed out of a single trunk of a tree are called-and I was told I might probably borrow one at a sitio a little higher up. I accordingly proceeded to this sitio, and found there an old man and his three sons, men of middle age, with remained stationary until we left the lake. their children. Two of the sons had just come in from a distant fishing expedition, the third had his arm in a AMONG matters of town talk there is nothing more sling; and on inquiring the cause, I learned that, seven interesting than the new phase the Crystal Palace has weeks ago, he and his father had been fishing in the assumed to us. It is now to be a permanency, the origivery lake I wished to visit, and were embarked in anal intention of closing it in December being abandonsmall montaria which remains constantly in the lake, ed. We look upon this as a matter for very decided the outlet of which is dried up in summer. They congratulation. It is impossible to measure or sum up had reached the middle of the lake, and were look- the vast benefits such a display of Art and Industry coning out for fish with their bows and arrows, when, fers upon the public mind, but many impressions borne unseen by them, a large jacaré, came under the mon-away from that structure, many germs of idea and contaria, gave it a jerk which sent them both into the water, ception generated there, will yet mature into good and, seizing the son by the shoulder of the right arm, fruits. Friends in the country, you can now adapt dived with him at once to the bottom, the lake being your leisure and your business so as to find a week about four fathoms deep. In this position of fearful for the Crystal Palace. See it then, aye, and study it, peril, he had sufficient presence of mind to thrust the too, by all means. fingers of his left hand into the monster's eyes, and A GREAT deal is said about steam travelling annihi after rolling over three or four times, the jacaré let go lating both time and space. It is a great pity that its his hold, and the poor fellow rose to the surface, though annihilating power doesn't stop here, but that it mangled, bleeding, and helpless. His father immedi- sometimes extends to-human beings.

was shown the wounds: every tooth had told; and some idea may be formed of this one terrible gripe, when I state that the wounds inflicted by it extended from the elbow to the shoulder, and downwards as far as the Ar Villanova, we left the Amazon, and entered hip. All were now healed except one very bad one in what are called the Paranà mirés, extending into the the armpit, where one sinew at least was completely country, where the greater part of the salt pirarucú severed. Even this seemed to me in a fair way to -a very large fish weighing 70 pounds or more-heal soon; but although such should be the case, the is prepared. We expected to be occupied here some twelve days, instead of which thirty elapsed ere we got out of the upper mouth of the Paranà miré dos Ranos, a little below Serpa, but on the opposite shore. I mention this to introduce you to the alligaThe sight of the wounded man was no encouragetors-called here 'jacarés.' Above Obidos, we began ment to me to prosecute my enterprise; but I was very to fall in with these elegant creatures in considerable anxious to procure the fruit of the Victoria; and as numbers, especially when we were anchored at night three of the little fellows who were running about in the still bays. In the bright moonlight we could see offered to row me over, and their grandfather made them floating about in every direction, sometimes quite no objection, I did not hesitate to avail myself of motionless on the surface, and only distinguishable their services. The mouth of the lake was on the from logs by careful inspection. The noise they make opposite side of the Ranos, and a little below the is a sort of grunt, such as a good-natured pig might sitio. Having reached it, we entered a dense forest, make with his mouth shut, only rather louder. By following the dried bed of the igarapé, in which my imitating it, we drew them quite near us, and it is little guides were not slow to detect the recent footsteps of they care for a musket-ball. We shot a young heed-a jacaré. Five minutes brought us to the lake, and we less fellow, however, one morning, as he was skulking embarked in the frail montaria, in which it was necesunder a dead trunk by the shore. When we got into sary before starting so to stow ourselves as to preserve but soon she becomes bewildered by conflicting the Paranà mirés, and especially when we visited the an exact balance. We then coasted along towards the thoughts and the grand mystery of human destiny. pirarucú lakes, with which the country is inter- Victoria, which appeared at a distance of some 150 spersed, we saw jacarés lying about in them like great yards. We had made but a few strokes when we perblack stones or trunks of trees. It is amusing to ceived by the muddy water ahead of us that a jacaré had just dived. As we passed cautiously over the observe what a perfectly good understanding seems to subsist between the jacarés and the fishermen, the troubled water, a large jacaré came to the surface a former waiting very patiently for their share, which is few yards from the offside of our montaria, and then the offal. When a large fish is hooked, the fishermen swam along, parallel to our course, apparently watching leap into the water, in the very midst of the jacarés our motions very closely. Although the little fellows which merely sheer out of the way until their turn were frightened at the proximity of the jacaré, their comes; and such a thing as a jacaré attacking a man piscatorial instincts were so strong, that at sight of a passing shoal of fish, they threw down their paddles, is very rarely known. and seized their mimic bows and arrows-the latter being merely strips of the leaf-stalk of a palm, with a few notches cut near the point-and one of them actually succeeded in piercing and securing an arnará, Our scaly friend still of about eighteen inches long stuck to us, and took no notice of our shouting and splashing in the water. At length, the eldest lad bethought him of a large harpoon which was laid in the bottom of the montaria; he held this up and poised it in his hand, and the jacaré seemed at once to comprehend its use, for he retreated to the middle, and there

Divinely calm and fancy free,

Dream followed dream; and still the day
Floated on golden wings away;
But in the hush of the high noon,
Touched by a sorrow without name,
Consumed by a slow, fever-flame,
I loathed my life's mysterious boon,
Unconscious of its end or aim;

Decked as for a festival
Seemed the wide and lonely hall
Of Nature, but a mute despair
Filled the universal air ;--

A sense of loneliness and void-
A wealth of beauty unenjoyed-
A sadness born 'mid the excess
Of life's unvalued loveliness.

Every pulse of being panting
With a bliss it fain would share,
Still there seemed a presence wanting,
Still some lost ideal haunting
All the lone and lustrous air.

Far off I heard the solemn chimes
Of Life and Death

The rhythm of ancestral rhymes
Above-beneath!

"Light in shadow ever fading—
"Death in Life's bright realm invading-
"Pain with pleasure keeping measure-
"Wasting care with golden treasure.—

So the ancient burden rang,
So the choral voices sang.

She seeks for truth in the "Chronicles of ages gone before," in the footprints of the Martyrs, in the Conqueror's triumphant songs.

In the cloisters old and hoary
Of the medieval time-

In the rude ancestral story
Of the ancient Runic rhyme

*

I heard loud Hallelujas
From Israel's golden lyre,
And I sought their great Jehovah
In the cloud and in the fire.

*

In the tangled coppice, the dwarf oak weaves
Her fringe-like blossoms and crimson leaves;
The sallows their delicate buds unfold
Into downy feathers bedropped with gold;
While, thick as stars in the midnight sky,
In the dark, wet meadows the cowslips lie.
A love-tint flushes the wind,

Rich melodies gush from the violet's beak;
On the rifts of the rock, the wild columbines grow,
Their heavy honey-cups hanging low;

As a heart which vague, sweet thoughts oppress,
Droop with its burden of happiness.

published. That a man, learned, astute, of the loftiest integrity, and of marked ability, should gravely put forth what he purports to be an insight into a future existence, in fact, a new revelation, and claim for this revelation a belief and a faith, is certainly no inconsiderate or insignificant event of the day. The book is very much read, but that it will obtain many converts, we rather doubt. People will be puzzled, and, perhaps, a little staggered at seeing among the believers in spiritualism, such men as Edmonds, Judge Fowler, and Governor Tallmadge, but they need more than anything this volume contains to be made converts of.

Beside the brook and on the umbered meadow, Where yellow fern-tufts fleck the faded ground, With folded lids beneath their palmy shadow, The gentian nods, in dewy slumber bound. Upon those soft, fring'd lids the bee sits brooding Like a fond lover loth to say farewell; Or, with shut wings, through silken folds intruding, Creeps near her heart his drowsy tale to tell. "THE JESUIT EXECUTORSHIP," is the title of a new anti-Catholic volume, just issued by De Witt and Davenport. It appears to be a highly graphic, wellwritten, and entertaining volume, and will, no doubt, please all that class of people who delight in seeing Romanism painted as near like the devil as possible. But, for our part, we very much question the good effects of these violent sectarian issues. We don't believe that much real Christianity is promoted by them, and nobody ever hears of their making any conversions. The "Jesuit Executorship " is a similar volume to "Beatrice," recently published by the same MESSRS. DE WITT & DAVENPORT have just pubhouse, and whose success, no doubt, induced the published, in a beautiful form, "Hot Corn :" Life Scenes lication of a companion to it.

In a new edition, in England, of "Beatrice," we observe that the authoress gives its great success in this country, and states, that twenty-six of the New York ministry wrote commendatory letters upon it. Whereupon the London Athenæum remarks, that it is a pity that New York has so large a congregation of foolish clergymen a satire no less just than severe.

Its contents are principally communications purporting to come from the spirits of Bacon and Swedenborg, who, it seems, have become boon companions in the spirit world. The style of the communications is generally turgid and inflated, very dull, very stilted, and of your genuine transcendentally obscure order. The publisher treats us to an engraved frontispiece, which he calls an invitation to Spirit Land. The way to it seems easy enough. You have only to pass between a couple of parapets, surmounted by some Dutch looking angels, and down a flight of steps. In the distance appear some sail vessels, and a tower or two-gratifying evidence of the advanced state of the arts among the spirits.

in New York Illustrated; being a collection of stories
similar in style and treatment to the celebrated Hot
Corn sketches which appeared in one of our daily
papers some months since. They are pathetic and
touching pictures of lowly life, told in a simple, effec-
tive manner, and are calculated to do vast good in
arousing the attention of the public to a neglected
and wretched class. The volume is illustrated by
several engravings, beautiful in design and workman-
ship. They were drawn by Mr. McLenan and en-
We call attention to the
graved by Mr. N. Orr.
advertisement of the book on second page of the

cover.

"PUTNAM'S MAGAZINE" does honor to American literature. The stately quarterlies and the rich old monthlies of England give us nothing superior. The papers that it publishes are all written in a vigorous, bold, searching style, and have a ring about them that we like. It is a gratifying thing to see so excellent a work meeting with the support that it does.

MISS BREMERS' HOMES IN AMERICA, is a pleasingly written, gossipping, somewhat sentimental, and rather personal series of letters, of what she saw and did in America. Her work is not so much a picture of American society, as it is a succession of American portraits. She sketches everybody she meets with the greatest freedom, and makes use of private names as though she were dealing with public characters. She was lionized extensively by certain transcendental cliques, and in turn she limns them in very high colors, and after a very flattering fashion. Her general impressions of the American people are very favorable. She doesn't run off into such extravagant delight at everything she sees as did Lady Wortley, for the juveniles, as a holyday book. It is a very but in the abundance of her simple-hearted good- beautiful volume, and will please the little ones nature, she looks at things in an amiable light, talks greatly, all a glow as it is with humor, pathos, and sometimes with amusing simplicity, and tries her best wit. There is probably no one who could so successto be impartial and just. She is, of course, bored fully write for children as Fanny Fern—and writing considerably by some of the peculiarities of indepen- for children is a very difficult branch of literary dent young America. Everybody asks her how she labor. likes America, and if it isn't a great country? Ah, gentlemen, aye and gentlewomen too, are we never going to know better than this? Will we never cease being an over-sensitive, self-glorifying, figetty, vain, and vulgar people?

Miss Bremer travelled all over the Union, east, south, and west, and also to the West Indies. She meets with a great many interesting characters and pleasing incidents, so that altogether, her book is one of the most charming and pleasing of the day.

FANNY FERN has just published a little volume

The old readers of the KNICKERBOCKER remember the intense interest with which they perused the pages of the "Attorney," one of the papers of the famed "Quod Correspondence. They will be glad to hear that "the Attorney," has been published in a complete form, and further, that a new novel by the same hand has also recently been issued entitled "Harry Harson." It is marked by his peculiar vigor of language and powerful intensity. The author bears an honored name being no less than kin to Geoffrey Crayon, Esq.

LADY LEE'S WIDOWHOOD is a new novel, in cheap form published from Blackwood, and like all of Black

JUDGE EDMONDS' work on Spiritualism is now a
very prominent subject for discussion. In several
ways, it is one of the most extraordinary books ever wood's tales-excellent!

ΟΝΕ

EDITOR'S TABLE.

NE must needs have a large quantity of time at his control if he would read all the enjoyable and pleasant books that the press throws off so fast just now. Here we have daily issues of very appetizing-looking volumes, that, because of our want of time, must go untasted. But, in good earnest, what are we to do in this matter? Our reputation for intelligence is utterly and hopelessly lost if we cannot talk with our clerical friends about Edmonds's Spiritualism, with our literary friends about Moore's Sheridan or Miss Bremer's America, and with the young ladies about Bulwer's or James's dear, delightful last. Besides, there isn't any of these who don't expect us to be posted up about "Bleak House,” “ Salad,” and all the many effusions of Hawthorne, Melville, Mitchell, Mrs. Robinson, Mrs. Grey, and Mr. Anonymous, who has the knack of turning off such a quantity of truly excellent things. And then, with all this, can we read Putnam and the papers, see the last new thing at the theatre, enjoy Jullien, rehearse political, temperance, vegetarian, women's rights, abolition, and union speeches, with a great sprinkling of lectures, eulogies, &c. Why, if Time were a commodity set down in the Prices Current and negotiable on 'Change, we should want the purse of Fortunatus to obtain the fee simple of enough for all these purposes.

those sufferings that only exist in the fancy of the companion of his domestic hours, and to have seen and
story weaver? What
felt the glow of his genius, the inspiration of his
Very dear sir, your pardon. We know all you are tongue; to have been one of those goodly spirits at the
That cant for so we persist in calling Mermaid-with Bacon and Raleigh, Beaumont and
going to say
it-is a great deal older than you are, sir It was first Fletcher, Dorset and Jonson, those whose wisdom
invented by those Puritan gentlemen of ancient times, gave the "Golden Age" to England's history; to hear
who cut their hair round, talked through their nose, the flashes of merriment that set the table in a roar-
sang psalms, and were known by such blessed titles as the wit so rapid, delicate, keen, the dazzling flow of
Fight-the-good-Fight, Smith, or Praise-ye-the-Lord, thought that leaps, dashes, sparkles-the glorious
Snuggins. Those gentlemen, sir, who chopped off sentiment, the repartee, the thrust, the parry, the
Charles's head, burned old women, made war upon the clash of bladed wits, and above all, brighter than all,
Quakers, and said long prayers! Unreal! untrue! keener than all, sparkling and glittering here and
No, sir. If there be reality in anything, we can find there, the glorious corruscations from noble “Will”
it in the creations of Fiction; creations, many of which himself. Ah, it must have been worth one's while to
are palpable to our senses, responsive to our sympa- have lived in those days and been the deer stealer's
thies, existing for us and to us in form, shape, sub-friend!
stance, soul, and being. History, with its long row of A beautiful picture has recently been amongst us
dim, shadowy, obscure, and half-fabulous personages, here, portraying these same wags of the Mermaid-
affords us but little that is so real. The Prince of those choice spirits of the far-famed club. And a
Timbuctoo and the King of Typee are no doubt very glorious picture it was too, painted by an artist whose
solid and altogether substantial gentlemen. But what spirit was in the subject, and who brought before us,
are they to us? Are not Little Nell, Uncle Toby, vivid with life, those mighty men of that mighty time.
Ophelia, Hamlet, Cuttle, Pickwick, and a host of other The figure of Shakespeare, who sits surrounded by his
characters from fiction, a thousand times more real? friends, is exquisitely painted. No one could stand
Why, sir, if all the savage inhabitants of the Pacific and look upon his countenance, so lofty, so serene, so
Islands were gathered into one solid mass, and sud- beautiful, without being stirred with emotion; without
denly annihilated, what pulse would beat quicker or his love for the man becoming strengthened, earnest,
what eye would weep,
substantial" though they be. lifted up. Oh, what a fame is thine, Will, to live so
But who can stand where the form of "Nell" lies deeply in the hearts of thy race as thou dost, as thou

66

"Confine your reading, sir, to the solid kind!" still and white without a full heart, aye, and full eyes hast, as thou ever wilt!

tion. They are unwholesome to the moral well-being. The flavor of the grape, of the peach, and of all those

characters of fiction realities to us. They are com-
too! It is their fidelity to nature that makes the

“Partake, sir, only of substantial dishes!" Ah, genFriends," of no less interest. It was "Scott and his Another picture accompanied Shakspeare and his tlemen, you mean for us to feast on roast beef alone. The lighter and more delicate dishes are bad of diges-posed of elements common to humanity, such as we Friends," and represented the noble old novelist at see in others and know in ourselves. We recognise Abbottsford, surrounded by his cherished friends—by the form, traits, and qualities to be true, and have only Wilson, Wordsworth, Campbell, Lockhart, Jeffrey, to accept on faith the location and christening. These and a host of others who have filled the speaking two conceded, the creation is before us in life and being, trump of fame. The portraits are asserted to be accuwhich we can recognise, know, revere, love, and trearate. These pictures were painted by two brothers, To us, such an existence is more than all the by the name of Faed, and a third brother is preparing Edwards, Jameses, Georges, Louises, and Charleses engravings from them for publication. The Shakethat have ever strutted and fretted in pomp and power,

rare fruits spread before us, must be passed by. Their aromatic essence must not be enjoyed. Solid beef alone! nothing but solid beef! This was the principle adopted by Nature when she grew only rocks and other substantial things, refusing to decorate her works

sure.

with flowers and fruits, or to robe herself in a useless lived, died, rotted, and whose dust we now shake from speare picture, we understand, was bought by one of

a

mantle of green, or to canopy her creation with a mighty and all-beautiful expansive arch. Ah, it is grand theory! Granite is your only wear!

Most respected and very reverend friend in black, what you say is all cant, and cant, sir, is the meanest

cious books, books in every way bad and infamous,

our feet.

It ap

We give all honor to science and learning! But
we claim more than honor for that which teaches us
humanity. And true fiction does this for us.
peals to the noblest and the best affinities of our na-
tures, awakens in us responsive sensibilities, and deve-
lopes into being those delicate but earnest qualities by
which man is ennobled, elevated, civilized. There is
not one of us that is not made better by music or poetry.
We are every one refined and made purer by Art, by
Beauty, by Nature. There are many graceful things
in this world-flowers, and fruits. and Imagination,
and Fancy, and Wit, and Incident, and bright words,

our citizens for four thousand dollars

A COUNTRY friend writes to us :

"The Autumn colors have not been as brilliant and

varied as usual, this year, in many parts of the country; yet there is always splendor enough, and variety enough, to attract even the dullest eyes and fire the most deadened brain. It is the opinion of some that the sharp frosts alone produce these attractive spectacles, the forest leaves exhibiting much higher colors under their inflictions than when the winds and the rains alone beat upon the boughs. However this may be, it is indisputable that one Fall

and weakest thing in the world. Undoubtedly and in all truth, the reading of romances can be indulged in and fair thoughts, and music, and love, and soft laughter. is as unlike another as two men are unlike. This perniciously. Indeed, there are a great many perni- and gay smiles-bright, and true, and pure things, may seem a mere notion, at first thought; but it will and which yet have a specious show of honesty, that that will deck, and smooth. and softly pave, and make nevertheless be found true by the close and appreciaare continually issued. But let us ask you, sir, if the happy our paths, if we will but let them. It is in tive observer. This autumn shall go to its end in best good things cannot be made evil by abuse? What our power to make smooth the hard granite and the russet-colored robes, brown-eyed, and sad. The next is there in this semi-wicked world, be it ever so pure stony way. And amid the many bright and good will pass through the golden gates of the West, flaunting and holy, that has not been turned to evil by un- graces that adorn the world, Fiction has its happy every variety of the richest tints, wearing a tiara of more than regal splendor, trailing its gold and purple banners righteous men? Why, sir, the history of religion, that institution whose beginning and end, whose whole everywhere over the woods and down the hill-sides, and soul and substance means purity and holiness, is, opening for the gaze of the world all the splendidly wrought tapestries that, like the old Italians, it has strange to say, the history of blood, of crimes, of kept hitherto hoarded and secreted. The one shall fiendish atrocities. Religion breeds fanaticism, and SHAKESPEARE AND HIS FRIENDS!-Who is there vanish into the late November mists, sobbing and fanaticism has worked more crime than Infidelity itself. among us, that would not take up his pilgrimage back bewailing, “her sick head bound about with clouds ;" "But Fiction is unreal, untrue, unsubstantial. through the ages, if he could be the friend of Shake- the other will walk the blue concave with all the pomp How can you be interested in imaginary personages speare, the companion of "Sweet Will," "Honey- of majesty, throwing down on the earth shadows only and incidents? What sympathy can you feel for tongued Will?" To have been seated by his side, the brighter and richer, and more dazzling than the sun

mission

And accomplish this mission it will, respected friend in black, even though you cant on until the crack of

doom.

shine itself that will people the vast forests with trimmed; with some regard to decency, if not to
images of beauty.
physiognomy. Another thing, too,-why is it that
red-haired men invariably wear full beards? Can any
one explain so striking a phenomenon?

"Our Summer tourists would do well to study this gradual dying out of the year. It is full of the most beautiful and impressive lessons for all."

How many are there. of the tens of thousands from WHITEWASHING is well enough, if it is confined to all parts of the country that have visited the Crystal the walls; when men get to practising the trade of Palace this summer and autumn, who have turned whitewashing one another, it amounts to little short their privilege to any account? If to every one could of " dauby" business. If a man's character is rotten, be put the question-"What was the object of your why patch up only the outside? He would'nt do the visit?"-how many would reply in any other words same with his house; that he would tear down and than these "Sight seeing" And "sight-seeing" build all over. It is the merest short-sightedness in simply is what much of it all comes to. The eyes the world to try to feel satisfied if the public eye have had it, sure enough. Into how many natures does'nt take offence. Nothing sooner betrays the have those exalting and refining influences that want of every trait that belongs in the category of breathe from the canvass and the marble, been true manliness, than the shirking disposition to put on thoroughly infused? How many have incorporated the best appearances, and let the rest-the heart of with their thoughts the proper impressions that are the whole-go. It is Hawthorne, we believe, who has got among these rare and beautiful collections? How started a very interesting train of reflections, in many, who think themselves already abundantly speaking of the different impressions one gets from refined, have gone hungry and starving among this riding behind and before a country house, on cars in wealth of provisions, while those whom they would the former case, the eyes beholding what is least have shrunk from touching with their very gloves, intended to be seen, the whole character and econo-have fed themselves to repletion? my of the household There is all the same difference There is a great deal of variety in this business of in the impressions of those who go behind and before inspecting wonderful collections. But a small fraca man's real character. The whitewash and the paint tion of those who pay down their half-dollars. get may make a goodly show in front; but in the rear, back again even the half of that. They go because what is there often but rubbish and ruin, shiftlessness everybody else goes. They stare at what everybody and false pride, deceit and hypocrisy?—hats in the else stares at. Their taste is nothing more than a windows, and the well-curb fallen in ? sort of contagious wonder. They frame their lips to the speaking of certain words that are in every one's mouth, while the images, and the influences, and the memories such words should convey, are no more

SORROW has its uses, as well as joy. There is as much a philosophy of sadness and grief, as a philoso

the deep chasms of the wave, heedless of the drowning mariners' shriek. Upon the wreck-strewn beach, where the dead lie thick, and the widow's wail pierces the air, he sports with a wild fury, and for ever mingled with his fierce howls, he bears with him the moans and the wailing agony of his victims. But soon Eurus and Zephyrus, these gentler sons of Eolus, shall with their soft balm heal the wounds he makes. Then shall the forest ranks wag their high tops with wild vehemence no longer; the sea shall sink its fretted crests into a smooth and gentle lull, and the

murmurs of the winds shall be as music,

"Like the sweet south o'er a bed of violets."

THERE she goes up the street, now. You can tell her by that same dress she has worn so many months, to and fro, to and fro. Follow her with your link-men are touching up the rows of lamps. From the eyes as she goes along. Evening is coming on-and shadow of a post or wall a stranger starts out to accost her. She does not look that way. To open her lips is to fall. No-no! On, on! Straight on to her home! Home? Is there such a place for her, then? See her as she climbs those steep stairs so wearily. Catch the sound of her deep breathing, of her deeper -deeper sigh See how despondingly she runs her eyes up and down the walls of the entry, cold and hearts around her. Those hearts might be touched electrically with a case of real suffering; but no sympathy have they for heroism-heroism such as hers. To sights of pity they will quickly respond; but not to sights of courage and resolution. She eats her

bare, but never so cold and bare to her as the human

phy of brighter moods. In this world everything theirs than if they had kept away altogether. To frugal supper, and then down she sits to her work

works toward an object and an end. Nothing was meant to come short of some effect. Sorrow dispenses, perhaps; and puts out the light of the great luminary; but a thousand other and more beautiful lights immediately become apparent, Grief smites the rock of the heart; and the waters gush forth. It

such, travel is of no service. It does little else than
heighten their empty conceits, and confirm their real
poverty of soul. Society is of no use, except as an
enclosure in which they may drive their gay equipages
and flaunt their trailing feathers, to the belittlement of

themselves and the disgust of all others

touches the dead corse of the stagnant spirit; and
instantly it springs up into a new life. Madam de
THE new Opera House is now nearly complete,
Stael has most beautifully said in "Corinne "- -"Are and advertisements already appear in our own and Eng-
not the heavens more beautiful by night? Thousands lish papers for proposals to lease. The prospect of a
of stars shine in the kindling sky, which is an azure permanent location of the opera amongst us, is very
desert during day. Thus does the gathering of gratifying to all who are fond of good music, and who
sorrow's shades over the firmament of mind, reveal
innumerable thoughts, half lost in the daylight of
prosperity!"

MUCH is said about beards now-a-days, and quite as much is worn of them. All sorts of recommendations

desire the inculcation of a sound and refined taste
among the people. We believe that the project will
be successful. The appetite for operatic music has
been of steady growth in this country, and if the new
house be only conducted with liberality and with
ability, there are enough who love the opera to come
forward and support it.

are on foot. It is asserted that the beard is a kind of
outside lungs, that assist the operation of the inner
establishment. Cutting off the beard is now charged BOREAS, that sturdiest son of Astraeus, is monarch
against a man as a cruelty to himself; it is simply now of the earth. He springs up in the north, and
beheading a class of respiratory organs-some say of comes sweeping down upon us in fierceness and might,
nerves, of whose high value we have all hitherto like the barbarians of old, upon the plains of Italy.
been ignorant. The moustache is strongly recom- He flings himself upon the compact ranks of the
mended, even by competent medical men; who insist forest trees, in his wild strength shaking them to and
that it keeps the passages through the nostrils to the fro, straining at their heart strings, and beating at
lungs clear of all foreign substances, and so renders their sturdy sides until they toss up their long arms
respiration an easy matter. Acting on this idea, with frantic shrieks, and wildly beat them against
many of the quarrymen, and stone-workers, and each other's sides as if in a deep agony. But Boreas
railway-men of England have resolved to wear the heeds not their torture, laughs at their despairing
moustache, and the nutural consequence is, that that shrieks, and plays fantastic tricks with the great piles
appendage has fallen very much from its former high of dead leaves; or, seeking some fiercer pastime,
It is no longer recognised as one of the stars hurls his mightiest power against the forest patriarch,
and garters of the ton, or the beaux hommes, and other and laughs with demoniac glee, to see its huge carcase
marks of distinction must supply its place.
totter and fall, a mighty ruin. He ravages the earth,
eager for victims and hungry for mischief. He tosses
the sea into high billows, and hurls the lost bark into

estate.

Whatever comes of it, let every man wear his beard, if he will wear any, properly. Trim it as it should be

again; the same work she has been on all through the day; the same she kept at all the last night, except

the three or four hours of her sleep. She will be at it again on this night, till quite midnight. No friend visits her. No other female heart is in that silent room to warm her own with its sympathy. She labors alone. She suffers alone. She keeps up her own courage No one thinks of such a thing, but in her thoughts she lives through years in a single day. People might say, if they stopped to say anything, that she appeared to be industrious and steady; and that would be all. But in her silent communings with herself, she has put herself out of the reach of their judgments long and long ago. She is not known, in fact. To the world she is a myth; and she gets as much of their sympathy as a mummy.

Stitch-stitch-stitch"! Ten-eleven-twelve, go the clocks. Hardly does she eke out a livelihood. There is always a cloud overhead. If she looks forward, it is either to poverty or to death. Hope has gone out. The future is without a light. She feels no great power within that can strengthen her at all needed times. But when she looks back, there is a gleaming memory of the white innocence of childhood, of a mother's love, of a brother's fondness, of a blessed youth! And that alone keeps her up. These sweet memories drive out iniquitous thoughts from her soul; crush the hydra head of temptation; nerve the

purpose to still a higher strain of endurance. Only a living faith is wanting to make the character a perfect

FINE ARTS.

We cannot close our remarks without making a suggestion that has occurred to us. The Historical Society last winter gave a noble course of Historical lectures. If another course is contemplated for the present season, no better subject could be chosen than De Soto's invasion of Florida. And among the gentlemen of the Historical Society, there is one eminently fitted for such a task. We refer to the Rev. Dr. Hawks. A Southerner, thoroughly familiar and enthusiastic in all matters of Southern history, this most romantic episode could be invested by his pen, with an interest such as few historical events possess.

truth, cannot be made. The imagination of the artist warrior, in the most poetical light. His Indian maidens may be allowed to heighten and strengthen his effects, are beauties such as a poet only could conceive. He but certainly not to destroy the general fidelity. And does not fail to introduce every feature that can illusMR. POWELL'S Historical, and, so-called, National pic- the introduction of characters with a view to illustrate trate all the characteristics of that age-the church, ture of De Soto Discovering the Mississippi, now on any individual phases, or of figures to symbolize any with its pomp, zeal, and power—the Moor, fallen and exhibition in this city, has been a subject much dis- peculiar principle, if destructive to the faithfulness of degraded with servitude, and even the accessories are cussed recently among artists, critics, and others. the whole, cannot upon any ground be defended. For carefully introduced to express the manners and even For our part we are greatly disappointed in this picture. instance, one of Mr. Powell's principal figures is that the Art of the age. It is no little to the credit of Mr. Although somewhat surprised at Mr. Powell selecting of a young cavalier of the time, admirably painted, we Powell that, unwilling to depend upon his own knowan event so long antecedent to the settlement of admit, accurate as a portrait, and evincing the greatest ledge alone, he took his work to France, for the purthe colonics as a subject for a National painting, yet care in details, dressed with scrupulous nicety, his pose of painting in the accessories. The groupings the grandeur of the subject, so admirably adapted for steed richly caparisoned, mettlesome and fiery, and are generally admirably managed; those of the Indians, the canvas-so full of interest, and so surrounded with himself dashing, gay, and full of chivalric, reckless and of the monks erecting the cross-that symbol that romantic associations, caused us to overlook the incon-courage. Now we submit that upon the banks of the ever went hand in hand with the conquests of the sistency, and to feel a deep interest in the success of Mississippi is exactly the last place where we would Spanish sword-are among the most effective. In his undertaking. It is therefore with regret and mor- look to find a model of the cavalier of the sixteenth brief, one cannot look upon the picture without finding tification that we are compelled to look upon it as a century. And although there was an abundance of so many exquisite passages that he is compelled to failure. In the first place the artist's conception of the these cavaliers among De Soto's followers, yet their admit that, with a pencil equal to the task, Mr. Powell event does not possess historic fidelity. Any one who finery had faded long before they had reached the had only to have based his conception upon a truer has read the history of De Soto's most romantic and Mississippi shores, and they scarcely could have per- ground, to have produced a picture that would have extraordinary expedition will, on looking upon the pic-formed their toilets, or groomed their steeds with so won for him a lasting fame. ture, be compelled to acknowledge this fact at once. much punctilious care as in the case of this cavalier, There probably never was an expedition more beset in the swamps and morasses of Alabama. It is a pity, with dangers, difficulties, and sufferings, than that indeed, that the main principle should have been sacriambitious one of De Soto's. From the time of leaving ficed to a whim of detail. But Mr. Powell is continually the Florida coast they pursued their way in the face doing this. of treacherous and ingenious foes, through morasses There is one other point of which we wish to speak; that are scarcely passable even to this day, often losing one which can be plausibly defended on the score of themselves in vast wildernesses, deprived of food, borne imaginative license, but which, nevertheless, in injurdown by fatigue and sickness, fighting their way, step ing the historic fidelity, destroys the true aim of a by step, and often engaged in battles unparalleled for historical painting, which should be to convey truly sanguinary fury. After months of scenes like these, and vividly the story in all its fulness and meaning. a dejected, sick, and wearied remnant of them reached The discovery of the Mississippi, although an event of the shores of the mighty river-Rio Grande as they the most decided interest to us, and but for which the christened it. We can readily imagine what the scene expedition of De Soto would scarcely be remembered, MUNIFICENT gifts have been made frequently by our must have been when first the great river broke upon was not an incident of any strong interest or moment merchants in the cause of education. Cooper, Astor, their view. We can see them pausing on the point to De Soto himself. He was fired with but one ambi- and Girard have immortalized themselves after an that commanded the prospect, those in the rear with tion, and that was to rival the fame of Cortez and honorable fashion. They have bound up for themrenewed strength hurrying forward, and all a torn, Pizarro; to find another Peru or Mexico to conquer. selves laurel wreaths whose greenness shall not fade sickly, emaciated group looking out upon the scene He was continually led on by rumors among the while the noble structures they have erected continue with mingled emotions of pleasure, wonder, and des- savages of a remote magnificent country, abounding in to memorialize their gifts. But is there no Cooper, nor pair. But Mr. Powell gives us something widely dif- gold and precious stones. Glowing pictures of this Astor, nor Girard, who shall become the powerful ferent from this. His picture tells no such story. In traditionary country were continually held up before patron of art? Cannot a grand National Gallery be the gay banners, sounding trumpets, freshly groomed the Spaniards. With their imaginations full of endowed by numerous generous donations, so that the and curveting steeds, in the richly dressed and spruce cities of gold and plains of silver, of a race that should public taste as well as the public mind can be elevated cavaliers, and in all the gaiety and elation of the scene, excel in wealth and gorgeous splendor the Monte- and refined? A fund, so appropriated that New York we read of no such antecedents as we have referred zumas, as the Montezumas outshone all others--they could in time possess a collection of works of art to. The picture, indeed, is quite a holiday picture. penetrated farther and farther into the wilderness in-worthy her wealth and her people—a permanent and a Were it not for the group of Indians and a few acces- different to all lesser objects. The discoveries of free gallery, and a fund for the encouragement sories of the scene, one might think he was looking upon rivers or mountains were but incidents in an expedi- and patronage of artists! Would not such an institusome fine display upon one of the plazzas of Madrid. tion where daily some new wonder of nature broke tion do lasting glory to his name who projected it! It is difficult to conceive how Mr. Powell should have upon them. Therefore, when first their gaze greeted thus rejected all historical data, and have given to his the Mississippi, they did not dream that the best fruit work so exclusively a poetical and imaginative concep- of their exertions had already been obtained that that tion. Had he wished to contrast such opposite ele- event was the one which should preserve their names ments of human life, as the Spanish cavalier with all from oblivion and perpetuate them for ever. It could his pomp, display, and evidences of a magnificent civ- have been a matter of no such enthusiastic elation as ilization with the rude barbarianism of the native Mr. Powell paints it. They saw only a new obstacle savage; was he merely aiming at the picturesque before them, a difficulty to be overcome, a bar between association of flashing armour, fluttering pennants, them and the magnificent paradise to which they gorgeous trappings, and all the pomp and circumstan- believed themselves hastening. Alas! could they have ces of imposing war with the solemn and wild soli- foreseen all the suffering, misery, and death that was tudes of untrodden primeval forests, he should have to follow! could De Soto have known how soon his chosen some earlier period of the expedition. Did it body was to lie beneath that river's tide-could he pretend to represent De Soto, as he appeared after have known that, with all his high hopes and mighty his disembarkation on the Florida coast, upon his first aspirations, he was to discover, in the words of another, encounter with the native savages, it would possess nothing so important as his burial-place! far greater claim to historic truth than at present.

There is throughout Mr. Powell's picture, a very But Mr. Powell claims to be entitled to a poetic high poetical imagination. He has sought to invest license in the treatment of his subject. Such a con- his subject with all the elements of romance. He cession, when it leads to the rejection of any general represents the Spanish cavalier, and the Indian

In a country like ours such things must be done by private generosity, or not done at all, and of all classes of men, merchants have ever been princely supporters of the arts. Witness how the merchant princes of Italy honored and enriched the arts in the golden time of her history. Shall the merchants of New York do less? Would it not be a glorious thing, if throughout all the world they should become famed for their liberal taste in such matters ?

We certainly hope to see a grand National Gallery yet.

THE engraved copies of Leutz's, great picture of Washington crossing the Delaware have been published, and are now conspicuous in the shop windows. The engraving is a spirited and faithful copy, but unfortunately very coarsely done. Apropos of Leutz, there are now two pictures by him in the Art Union Rooms well worth seeing. One represents Washington at Eighteen, the other, Washington at Dorchester Heights.