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The winds are awed, nor dare to breathe aloud; and the beauty of the portrait in The Indian's Bride."

Exchanging lustre with the sun,

A part of day she strays-
A glancing, living, human smile,
On nature's face she plays.

The poems of Pinkney were published in a second edition at Baltimore in 1838, and in 1844 appeared, with a brief introduction by Mr. N. P. Willis, in the series of the Mirror Library entitled "The Rococo."

ITALY.

Know'st thou the land which lovers ought to choose?

Like blessings there descend the sparkling dews;
In gleaming streams the crystal rivers run,
The purple vintage clusters in the sun;
Odors of flowers haunt the balmy breeze,
Rich fruits hang high upon the vernant trees;
And vivid blossoms gem the shady groves,
Where bright-plumed birds discourse their careless
loves.

Beloved-speed we from this sullen strand

Until thy light feet press that green shore's yellow sand.

Look seaward thence, and naught shall meet thine

eye

But fairy isles, like paintings on the sky;
And, flying fast and free before the gale,
The gaudy vessel with its glancing sail;
And waters glittering in the glare of noon,
Or touched with silver by the stars and moon,
· Or flecked with broken lines of crimson light
When the far fisher's fire affronts the night.
Lovely as loved! towards that smiling shore
Bear we our household gods, to fix for evermore.

It looks a dimple on the face of earth,
The seal of beauty, and the shrine of mirth,
Nature is delicate and graceful there,
The place's genius, feminine and fair:

The winds are awed, nor dare to breathe aloud;
The air seems never to have borne a cloud,
Save where volcanoes send to heaven their curled
And solemn smokes, like altars of the world.
Thrice beautiful!-to that delightful spot
Carry our married hearts, and be all pain forgot.
There Art too shows, when Nature's beauty palls,
Her sculptured marbles, and her pictured walls;
And there are forms in which they both conspire
To whisper themes that know not how to tire:
The speaking ruins in that gentle clime

Have but been hallowed by the hand of Time,
And each can mutely prompt some thought of
flame-

The meanest stone is not without a name.
Then come, beloved!-hasten o'er the sea
To build our happy hearth in blooming Italy.

THE INDIAN'S BRIDE.

Why is that graceful female here
With yon red hunter of the deer?
Of gentle mien and shape, she seems
For civil halls designed,
Yet with the stately savage walks
As she were of his kind.
Look on her leafy diadem,
Enriched with many a floral gem:
Those simple ornaments about
Her candid brow, disclose

The loitering Spring's last violet,

And Summer's earliest rose:
But not a flower lies breathing there,
Sweet as herself, or half so fair.
Exchanging lustre with the sun,
A part of day she strays-
A glancing, living, human smile,
On Nature's face she plays.
Can none instruct me what are these
Companions of the lofty trees?—
Intent to blend with his her lot,
Fate formed her all that he was not;
And, as by mere unlikeness thoughts
Associate we see,

Their hearts from very difference caught
A perfect sympathy.

The household goddess here to be
Of that one dusky votary,-
She left her pallid countrymen,

An earthling most divine,

And sought in this sequestered wood
A solitary shrine.

Behold them roaming hand in hand,
Like night and sleep, along the land;
Observe their movements:-he for her
Restrains his active stride,

While she assumes a bolder gait

To ramble at his side;
Thus, even as the steps they frame,
Their souls fast alter to the same.
The one forsakes ferocity,

And momently grows mild;
The other tempers more and more
The artful with the wild.

She humanizes him, and he
Educates her to liberty.

Oh, say not they must soon be old,

Their limbs prove faint, their breasts feel cold! Yet envy I that sylvan pair,

More than my words express,
The singular beauty of their lot,

And seeming happiness.
They have not been reduced to share
The painful pleasures of despair:
Their sun declines not in the sky,

Nor are their wishes cast,
Like shadows of the afternoon,

Repining towards the past:
With naught to dread, or to repent,
The present yields them full content.
In solitude there is no crime;

Their actions are all free,
And passion lends their way of life

The only dignity;

And how should they have any cares?-
Whose interest contends with theirs?

The world, or all they know of it,
Is theirs-for them the stars are lit;
For them the earth beneath is green,
The heavens above are bright;

For them the moon doth wax and wane,
And decorate the night;

For them the branches of those trees
Wave music in the vernal breeze;
For them upon that dancing spray
The free bird sits and sings,

And glittering insects flit about
Upon delighted wings;

For them that brook, the brakes among,
Murmurs its small and drowsy song;
For them the many-colored clouds
Their shapes diversify,

And change at once, like smiles and frowns,
The expression of the sky.

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How may this little tablet feigu the features of a face,

Which o'er-informs with loveliness its proper share of space;

Or human hands on ivory enable us to see

The charms that all must wonder at, thou work of gods, in thee!

But yet, methinks, that sunny smile familiar stories tells,

And I should know those placid eyes, two shaded crystal wells;

Nor can my soul the limner's art attesting with a sigh,

Forget the blood that decked thy cheek, as rosy clouds the sky.

They could not semble what thou art, more excellent than fair,

As soft as sleep or pity is, and pure as mountain

air;

But here are common, earthly hues, to such an aspect wrought,

That none, save thine, can seem so like the beautiful of thought.

The song I sing, thy likeness like, is painful mimicry Of something better, which is now a memory to me, Who have upon life's frozen sea arrived the icy spot, Where men's magnetic feelings show their guiding task forgot.

The sportive hopes, that used to chase their shifting shadows on,

Like children playing in the sun, are gone—for ever gone;

And on a careless, sullen peace, my double-fronted mind,

Like Janus when his gates were shut, looks forward and behind.

Apollo placed his harp, of old, awhile upon a stone, Which has resounded since, when struck, a breaking harp-string's tone;

And thus my heart, though wholly now from early softness free,

If touched, will yield the music yet, it first received of thee.

BONG.

I need not name thy thrilling name,

Though now I drink to thee, my dear,
Since all sounds shape that magic word,
That fall upon my ear,-Mary;
And silence, with a wakeful voice,
Speaks it in accents loudly free,
As darkness hath a light that shows
Thy gentle face to me,-Mary.

I pledge thee in the grape's pure soul,
With scarce one hope, and many fears,
Mixed, were I of a melting mood,
With many bitter tears,-Mary-

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A form so fair, that, like the air, 'tis less of earth than heaven.

Her every tone is music's own, like those of morning birds,

And something more than melody dwells ever in her words;

The coinage of her heart are they, and from her lips each flows

As one may see the burthened bee forth issue from the rose.

Affections are as thoughts to her, the measures of her hours;

Her feelings have the fragrancy, the freshness of young flowers;

And lovely passions, changing oft, so fill her, she appears

The image of themselves by turns,-the idol of past years.

Of her bright face one glance will trace a picture on the brain,

And of her voice in echoing hearts a sound must long remain;

But memory such as mine of her so very much endears,

When death is nigh my latest sigh will not be life's but hers.

I filled this cup to one made up of loveliness alone, A woman, of her gentle sex, the seeming paragonHer health! and would on earth there stood some more of such a frame,

That life might be all poetry, and weariness a

name.

BELA BATES EDWARDS.

THE successor, and previously the associate of Moses Stuart in his professorship at Andover, was the Rev. Bela B. Edwards, also prominently connected with the theological and educational literature of the country. He was born at Southampton, Massachusetts, July 4, 1802. His family was one of the oldest in the country, boasting "a long line of godly progenitors," originally springing from a Welsh stock, which contained among its descendants the two Jonathan Edwardses and President Dwight.* Mr. Edwards became a graduate of Amherst in 1824, and was subsequently for two years, from 1826 to 1828, a tutor in that college. He had previously, in 1825, entered the Andover Theological Seminary, where he continued his studies and was licensed as a preacher in 1830. Though with many fine qualities in the pulpit, which his biographer, Professor Parks, has fondly traced, he lacked the ordinary essentials of voice and manner for that vocation. The main energies of his life were to be devoted to the cause of instruction through the press and the professor's chair.

While tutor at Amherst he conducted in part a

At least Mr. Edwards was disposed to maintain this view of his genealogy. Memoir by Edwards A. Park, p. 9.

weekly journal, the New England Inquirer, and was afterwards occasionally employed in superintending the Boston Recorder.

As Assistant Secretary of the American Education Society, he conducted, from 1828 to 1842, the valuable statistical and historical American Quarterly Register, a herculean work as he worked upon it, a journal of fidelity and laborious research in the biography of the pulpit and the annals of American seats of learning, and generally all the special educational interests of the country.*

In July, 1833, he established the American Quarterly Observer, a journal of the order of the higher reviews; which, after three volumes were published, was united in 1835 with the Biblical Repository, which had been conducted by Professor Robinson. Edwards edited the combined work known as the American Biblical Repository, until January, 1838.

In 1844 he became engaged in the publication of the Bibliotheca Sacra and Theological Review at Andover, which had been established the previous year at New York by Professor Robinson. He was employed in the care of this work till 1852. In January, 1851, the Biblical Repository was united with the Bibliotheca Sacra. "He was thus," adds Professor Parks, "employed for twenty-three years in superintending our periodical literature; and with the aid of several associates, left thirty-one octavo volumes as the monuments of his enterprise and industry in this onerous department." Dr. Edwards's own contributions to these periodicals were criticisms on the books of the day, the discussion of the science of education, and the cultivation of biblical literature.

Dr. Edwards's Professorship of Hebrew in the Andover Seminary dated from 1837. In 1848, on the retirement of Professor Stuart, he was elected to the chair of Biblical Literature. He had previously, in 1846-47, travelled in Europe, where he made the study of religious institutions, the universities, and other liberal objects, subservient to his professional labors. Professor Parks, with characteristic animation, has given, in his notice of this tour, the following pleasing picture of the inspirations which wait upon the serious American student visiting Europe.*

And when he made the tour of Europe for his health, he did not forget his one idea. He revelled amid the treasures of the Bodleian Library, and the Royal Library at Paris; he sat as a learner at the feet of Montgomery, Wordsworth, Chalmers, Mezzofanti, Neander, the Geological Society of London, and the Oriental Society of Germany, and he bore away from all these scenes new helps for his own comprehensive science. He had translated a Biography of Melancthon, for the sake, in part, of qualifying himself to look upon the towers of Wittemberg; and he could scarcely keep his seat in the

*This periodical was established in 1927 and called the Quarterly Journal of the American Education Society. In 1829 it took the name of the Quarterly Register and Journal of the American Education Society. In 1830 its title became the Quarterly Register of the American Education Society. From 1881 it was called the American Quarterly Register. The Rev. Elias Cornelius was associated with Mr. Edwards in editing the first and second volumes; the Rev. Dr. Cogswell in editing the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth; and the Rev. Samuel H. Riddell in editing the fourteenth volume.-Parks's Memoir, p. 76.

+Memoir, pp. 160-2.

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rail-car, when he approached the city consecrated by the gentle Philip. He measured with his umbrella the cell of Luther at Erfurt, wrote his own name with ink from Luther's inkstand, read some of the notes which the monk had penned in the old Bible, gazed intently on the spot where the intrepid man had preached, and thus by the minutest observations he strove to imbue his mind with the hearty faith of the Reformer. So he might become the more profound and genial as a teacher. This was a ruling passion with him. He gleaned illustrations of divine truth, like Alpine flowers, along the borders of the Mer de Glace, and by the banks of "the troubled Arve," and at the foot of the Jungfrau. He drew pencil sketches of the battle-field at Waterloo, of Niebuhr's monument at Bonn, and of the cemetery where he surmised for a moment that perhaps he had found the burial-place of John Calvin. With the eye of a geologist, he investigated the phenomena of the Swiss glaciers, and with the spirit of a mental philosopher he analysed the causes of the impression made by the Valley of Chamouni. He wrote tasteful criticisms on the works of Salvator Rosa, Correggio, Titian, Murillo, Vandyke, Canova, Thorwaldsen; he trembled before the Transfiguration by Raphael, and the Last Judgment by Michael Angelo; he was refreshed with the Italian music, “unwinding the very soul of harmony;" he stood entranced before the colonnades and under the dome of St. Peter's, and on the walls of the Colosseum by moonlight, and amid the statues of the Vatican by torchlight, and on the roof of the St. John Lateran at sunset, " where," he says, "I beheld a prospect such as probably earth cannot elsewhere furnish;" he walked the Appian Way, exclaiming: "On this identical road,—the old pavements now existing in many places,-on these fields, over these hills, down these rivers and bays, Horace, Virgil, Cicero, Marius, and other distinguished Romans, walked, or wandered, or sailed; here, also, apostles and martyrs once journeyed, or were led to their scene of suffering; over a part of this very road there is no doubt that Paul travelled, when he went bound to Rome." He wrote sketches of all these scenes; and in such a style as proves his intention to regale his own mind with the remembrance of them, to adorn his lectures with descriptions of them, to enrich his commentaries with the images and the suggestions which his chaste fancy had drawn from them. But, alas! all these fragments of thought now sleep, like the broken statues of the Parthenon; and where is the power of genius that can restore the full meaning of these lines, and call back their lost charms! Where is that more than Promethean fire that can their light relume!

The remaining years of Edwards's life were spent in the duties of his Profe-sorship at Andover, in which he taught both Greek and Hebrew. To perfect himself in German he took part in translating a volume of Selections from German Literature; and for a similar object engaged with President Barnes Sears, of the Newton Theological Institution, and Professor Felton of Harvard, in the preparation of the volume on classical studies entitled Essays on Ancient Literature and Art, with the Biography and Correspondence of Eminent Philologists. Professor Edwards's portions of this interesting and stimulating work were the Essays on the "Study of Greek Literature” and of "Classical Antiquity," and the chapter on "the School of Philology in Holland."

* Published by Gould, Kendall, & Lincoln. 1843.

In 1844 Professor Edwards was associated with Mr. Samuel H. Taylor in translating the larger Greek Grammar of Dr. Kuhner, and in 1850 revising that work for a second edition.

While undergoing these toils and duties the health of the devoted student was broken and feeble. Symptoms of a pulmonary complaint had early appeared, and the overworked machine was now to yield before the abors imposed upon it. In the fall of 1845 Professor Edwards was compelled to visit Florida for his health, and the following spring, on his return to the north, sailed immediately for Europe, passing a year among the scholars and amidst the classic associations of England and the continent. He bestowed especial attention upon the colleges and libraries. In particular he visited the Red Cross Library in Cripplegate, London, founded by the Rev. Dr. Daniel Williams, an English Presbyterian Minister, who lived from 1644 to 1716. It is a collection of twenty thousand volumes, chiefly theological. The sight of this led Professor Edwards to propose a similar Puritan library to the Congregationalists of New England, which has been since, in part, carried out.*

He returned to Andover in May, 1847, resumed his studies, aud while "yielding inch by inch to his insidious disease, with customary forethought, persisted in accumulating new materials for new commentaries." He prepared expositions of Habakkuk, Job, the Psalms, and the First Epistle to the Corinthians, and was engaged in other labors. In the autumn of 1851 he again visited the South fatally stricken, took up his residence in Athens, Georgia, and died at that place April 20, 1852, in the forty-ninth year of his age.

An honorable tribute to his memory was paid the following year in the publication, in Boston, of two volumes, The Writings of Professor B. B. Edwards, with a Memoir by Edwards A. Park. The selection contains sermons preached at Andover, and a series of essays, addresses, and lectures, not merely of scholastic but of general interest. The Memoir is a minute and thoughtful scholar's biography.

WILLIAM LEGGETT.

WILLIAM LEGGETT, an able and independent political writer, was born in the city of New York in the summer of 1802. He entered the college at Georgetown, in the district of Columbia, where he took a high scholastic rank, but in consequence of his father's failure in business, was withdrawn before the completion of his course, and in 1819 accompanied his father and family in their settlement on the then virgin soil of the Illinois prairies. The experience of western pioneer life thus acquired, was turned to good account in his subsequent literary career.

În 1822 he entered the navy, having obtained the appointment of midshipman. He resigned his commission in 1826, owing, it is said, to the harsh conduct of the commander under whom he sailed, and shortly after published a volume of verses, written at intervals during his naval ca

*Edwards's plan and arguments for the work are published 1. Professor Parks's Memoir.

reer, entitled Leisure Hours at Sea.* The poems show a ready command of language, a noticeable youthful facility in versification, and an intensity of feeling; beyond this they exhibit no peculiar merit, either of originality or scholarship. A single specimen will indicate their quality.

SONG.

Improbe amor, quid non mortalia pectora cogis!
ENEID, lib. 4.

The tear which thou upbraidest
Thy falsehood taught to flow;
The misery which thou madest
My cheek hath blighted so:
The charms, alas! that won me,
I never can forget,
Although thou hast undone me,
I own I love thee yet.
Go, seek the happier maiden
Who lured thy love from me;
My heart with sorrow laden
Is no more prized by thee:
Repeat the vows you made me,
Say, swear thy love is true;
Thy faithless vows betrayed me,
They may betray her too.

But no! may she ne'er languish

Like me in shame and woe;
Ne'er feel the throbbing anguish
That I am doomed to know!
The eye that once was beaming
A tale of love for thee,
Is now with sorrow streaming,
For thoù art false to me.

He also wrote in the Atlantic Souvenir, one of the earliest of the American annuals, a prose tale,

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met with such great success, from the novelty of its subject as well as its excellence of execution, that it was speedily followed by other tales of sea as well as land. The whole were subsequently collected under the title of Tales by a Country Schoolmaster.

In 1828 Mr. Leggett married Miss Elmira Leggett of New Rochelle, and in November of the same year commenced The Critic, a weekly literary periodical, in which the reviews, notices of the drama and the arts, the tales, essays, and entire contents, with the exception of a few poems, were from his own pen. Several of the last numbers were not only entirely written, but also set in type, and distributed to subscribers by himself. The editor displayed great ability as well as versatility, but the work was discontinued at the end of six months, for want of support, and united with the Mirror, to which its editor became a regular contributor.

In the summer of 1829 Leggett became, with Wm. C. Bryant, one of the editors of the Evening Post, a position which he retained until December, 1836. It is somewhat singular, that at the outset he stipulated that he should not be called upon for articles on political subjects, on which he had no settled opinions, and for which he had no taste. Before the year was out, however, adds his associate, Mr. Bryant, he found himself a zealous Democrat, and took decided ground in favor of free trade, against the United States Bank, and all connexion by the federal or state governments, with similar institutions, contending that banking, like other business operations, should be untrammelled by government aid or restriction. In 1835, during the riots, in which certain abolition meetings were attacked and dispersed with violence, he defended the right of liberty of speech with the same freedom with which he treated other questions. In October of this year he was attacked by a severe illness, that interrupted his editorial labors for a twelvemonth, which, in consequence of the absence in Europe of his associate, included the entire charge of the paper. Not long after his recovery he left the Post, which, it appeared after investigation on Mr. Bryant's return, had suffered in its finances, on account of his course on the abolition question, and the withdrawal of advertisers in consequence of the removal, by his order, from the notices of "houses for sale and to let," of the small pictorial representation of the article in question, for the sake of uniformity in the typographical appearance of the sheet.*

He then commenced a weekly paper, with the characteristic title of The Plaindealer. It was conducted with his usual ability, in its literary as well as political departments, and was widely circulated, but was involved in the failure of its publisher and discontinued at the expiration of ten months. Mr. Leggett did not afterwards engage in any new literary project, but passed the short remainder of his life, his health being greatly impaired, in retirement at his country place at New Rochelle, on Long Island Sound, which had been his home since his marriage.

In May, 1839, he was appointed by Mr. Van Buren Diplomatic Agent to the Republic of Gua

Bryant's History of the Evening Post.

temala, an event which gave pleasure to his friends, not only as a recognition of his public services, but from their hopes that a residence in a southern climate would be beneficial to his health. It was but a few days after, however, that the public were startled by the announcement of his death, in the midst of his preparations for departure, from a severe attack of bilious colic, on the evening of May 29, 1839.

Mr. Bryant has noted the peculiarities of Leggett in his published account of the Evening Post, and has dedicated a poetical tribute to his me mory. In the first he speaks of him as “fond of study, and delighted to trace principles to their remotest consequences, whither he was always willing to follow them. The quality of courage existed in him almost to excess, and he took a sort of pleasure in bearding public opinion. He wrote with surprising fluency and often with eloquence, took broad views of the questions that came before him, and possessed the faculty of rapidly arranging the arguments which occurred to him in clear order, and stating them persuasively."

In the following the same pen expresses the sentiment inspired by these facts:—

IN MEMORY OF WILLIAM LEGGETT.

The earth may ring, from shore to shore,
With echoes of a glorious name,
But he, whose loss our tears deplore,

Has left behind him more than fame.
For when the death-frost came to lie

On Leggett's warm and mighty heart,
And quench his bold and friendly eye,
His spirit did not all depart.

The words of fire that from his pen

Were flung upon the fervid page,
Still move, still shake the hearts of men
Amid a cold and coward age.

His love of truth, too warm, too strong
For Hope or Fear to chain or chill,
His hate of tyranny and wrong,

Burn in the breasts he kindled still.

A collection of Leggett's political writings, in two volumes, edited by his friend Mr. Theodore Sedgwick, was published a few months after.

In person Mr. Leggett was of medium height, and compactly built, and possessed great powers of endurance.*

THE MAIN-TRUCK, OR A LEAP FOR LIFE
Stand still! How fearful

And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low!

The murmuring surge,
That on the unnumbered idle pebbles chafes.
Cannot be heard so high:-I'll look no more,
Lest my brain turn, and the deficien sight
Topple down headlong.—Shakespeure,

Among the many agreeable associates whom my different cruisings and wanderings have brought me acquainted with, I can scarcely call to mind a more pleasant and companionable o te than Tom Scupper. Poor fellow! he is dead and gone now-a victim to that code of false honor which has robbed the navy of too many of its choicest officers. Tom and I were messmates during a short and delightful cruise, and, for a good part of the time, we belonged to the same

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