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words and lines which struck the editor as espe

“ MAY. cially good : " Tot homines, tot mentes”-nine Character, Budding Beauty in male and female ; Animal men out of ten will select different objects of pleas- Passion ; Luminous Vernal Coloring.- Painter, Titian. ure in an extract of any length, and we can safely

"Then came fair May, the fairest maid on ground, say, that not one in ten of Mr. Hunt's markings

Deck'd with all dainties of her season's pride, strike us as containing any thing to be admired;

And throwing flowers out of her lap around : it is, therefore, unpleasant to have obtruded upon Upon two brethren's shoulders she did ride, one, a passage or expression in which one can see The twins of Leda; which, on either side, but little or no beauty. Even where the tastes

Supported her like to their sovereign queen. agree, it mars to a great estent the effect of a

Lord! how all creatures laugh'd when her they spied,

And leap'd and danc'd as they had ravish'd been; pleasing idea, to have it thus separated and thrust And Cupid's self about her flùitěvěd all in green.” upon us. Let any one read the “ Eve of St. Agnes,” by a common edition, and then with the aid of • Raphael would have delighted, (but Titian's Mr. Hunt's markings and accents, and he will colors would be required,) in the lovely and liberal

uniformity of this picture (!),—the young goddess speedily find the difference.

May, supported aloft; the two brethren on each So much for the design. As for the execution,

ide this should be either side) ; birds in the air, it is even worse. From the whole body of Eng. and Cupid streaming overhead in his green man. lish poets, the only ones from whom he has culled tle. Imagine the lule fellow, with a body of Tiare Spenser, Marlowe, Ben Jonson, Beaumont, tian's carnation, tumbling in the air, and playfully and Fletcher, Middleton, Dekker,* and Webster, holding the mantle, which is amply flying behind

rather than concealing him. Milton, Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats. He has

“ This charming stanza beats (!) the elegant but been singularly unfortunate in his extracts. With

more formal invitation to May, by Milton, who esiall the really beautiful passages selected, every dently had it in his recollection, &c." reader of poetry is already familiar, and those that

Of such mediocre extracts; marked for especial are not common are not worth much. For instance, from Shakespeare he quotes the inagical admiration, such rambling and inconclusive critiportion of the Tempest, the witch-scene in Mac- cism, and such maundering, “jaunty," and carebeth, the fairy plot of the Midsummer's-Nightless style is a great part of this work composed. Dream, the beautiful scene of Jachimo in Imogen's A painter would not find it easy to catch the chachamber, and iwo or three liule extracts. Milton racters of these pictures from the explication of contributes L'Allegro, and Il Penseroso, Lycidas, Hunt

, darkening what before was none of the and one or two of the best known passages in

clearest. Turner, or Maclise might well hesitate Paradise Lost, and Comus. It is most easy to

if presented with such a subject as the following manufacture a book thus, extracting a dozen pages

“LANDSCAPE, at a time, as Dr. Aikin did, on a larger scale, in the so called " British Poets.” But, as might be ex

WITH DAMSELS CONVEYING A WOUNDED SQUIRE ON pected, Spenser absorbs the major part of Mr. Hunt's attentions, and accordingly one-fifth of the “Character, Select Southern Elegance, with an intimation of whole book is devoted to him. He is extolled in fine Architecture ; [ What does all this mean?] Painter, almost every conceivable manner, and

among
other

Claude. (Yet "mighty' woods hardly belong to him.)" excellences, his descriptive powers are highly praised, Mr. Hunt informing us, that, had he only

And here is another, even more difficult to comknown how to paint, “there is ground for believ- prehend. ing that England would have possessed, in the per- “THE NYMPHS AND GRACES DANCING TO A son of one man, her Claude, her Annibal Caracci,

SHEPHERD'S PIPE; her Correggio, her Titian, her Rembrandt, perhaps even her Raphael.” In order to establish the

OR, APOTHEOSIS OF A POET'S MISTRESS. truth of this amusing catalogue of incongruous and “ Character, Nakedness without Impudency : Multitudinous multitudinous excellence to the complete satisfac- and Innocent Delight; Erallation of the Principal Person tion of the most sceptical, he proceeds to give a

from Circumstances, rather than her own Ideality; Painter, "Gallery of Pictures” from Spenser's writings,

Albano." naming the painters to whom they should be as- But the supreme genius of the poet, so transsigned. Some of these, with the accompanying cends that of the highest painters, that it requires comments and descriptions, provoke our risible fa. the combined efforts of several to do justice to culties considerably, and show Mr. Hunt's critical some of his conceptions. Concerning “ U'na, (or powers in a new light.

Faith in Distress,)” the editor remarks, * Contrary to all authority, Hunt writes this name and Correggio united, to paint this, on account of

“May I say, that I think it would take Raphael " Decker," thereby spoiling completely its pleasant autiqua. the exquisite chiaro-scuru? Or, might not the paintsed appearance.

er of the Magdalen have it all to himself ?”

HIS HORSE.

acumen.

Mr. Hunt is not peculiarly happy in his selec

Bŭz ảnd hòm they cry,

And so do we. tions. His two favorite topics are witchcraft and

In his ear, in his nose, luxury. With respect to the latter, he quotes long

Thùs do you see? catalogues of dainties and luxuries from Marlowe,

Hè ate the dormouse; Ben Jonson, and Keats, with a kind of gloating

Else it was hè." earnestness that is quite amusing. As to the former, such scenes possess, perhaps, less interest And this little specimen of Ben Jonson's weakthan any others that could be selected. Even est moments is praised unmeasurably !* Shakespeare has mingled amid the horrors of his,

But it is not only in the poverty of many of the much that is silly and ludicrous; and it will be ob- passages selected, that Hunt has missed his aiin. served, that the terrible in it is entirely derived He calls his book “ Imagination and Fancy,” and from its human associations, the causes which states that his extracts are made to exhibit the lure Macbeth to it, and the effect produced on him. must poetical part of poetry, (such, we presume, But the iwo others, also quoted by Hunt, from Ben as the ones just instanced.) But many of them Jonson and Middleton, are purely witch-scenes; and could, with much more propriety, be classed as

Marlowe's “Come live as there are no human actors, the only impression poetry of the passions.

" Genethat they leave is disgust mingled with amusement. with me and be my Love," Coleridge's Certainly not much can be said for the taste which vieve," " Age and Youth," and many others not not only quotes the following as a fine passage, but so well known, have but small claim to their stamarks part of it for especial admiration. We ask tions here. Another instance occurs in one of our readers if they see any unusual beauty in the Shelley's beautiful little songs, which, though no lines honored with italics, by Mr. Hunt's critical doubt familiar to our readers, they will pardon us

for again presenting to their notice. We discard

the Editor's senseless italics. “ 4th Hag. And I have been choosing out this skull From charnel houses that were full;

“ One word is too often profaned
From private grots, and public pits ;

For me to profane it;
And frightened a sexton out of his wits.

One feeling too falsely disdain'd

For thee to disdain it.

One hope is too like despair, 6th Hag. I had a dagger: what did I with that?

For prudence to smother,
Killd an infant to have his fat.

· And pity from thee more dear
I scratch'd out the eyes of the owl before,

Than that from another.
I tore the bat's wing; what would you have more!

“I can give not what men call love;

But wilt thou accept not
Charm. Blacker in, and blacker come out :

The worship the heart lifts above,
At thy going down, we give thee a shout;

And the Heavens reject not?
Hoo!

The desire of the moth for the star;
At thy rising again, thou shalt have two;

or the night for the morrow ;
And if thou dost what we'd have thee do,

The devotion to something afar,
Thou shalt have three, thou shalt have four,

From the sphere of our sorrow."
Hoo! har! bar! boo!
A cloud of pitch, a spur and a switch,

This is the quintessence of feeling, wrung from
To haste him away, and a whirlwind play,
Before and after, with thunder for laughter,

the sadness of a true poet, not a mere specimen of And storms of joy, of the roaring boy,

“ Imagination and Fancy." But, beautiful as it is, His head of a drake, his tail of a snake.

there are many things in Shelley even finer, and

which more decidedly merit a place in a collection (A loud and beautiful music is heard, and the Witches like this, for Shelley was essentially the poet of vanish.")

the imagination. Leigh Hunt's faults of omission In a little book like this, collected by a man of are, however, even graver than those of commisHunt's age and literary acquirements, we have a

sion. In Shelley, for instance, why not have given right to expect an array of gems; that there shall us that exquisite piece of imagination, “The be nothing in it not worthy of all admiration. We

* To do Mr. Hunt justice, he does not praise this himsurely should not be presented with a parcel of

self, but he quotes some highly laudatory remarks on it, by follies like the above, or a little inanity, such as doing which he of course endorses ther, giving whatever the following “Catch of Satyrs," which follows additional weight his name carries with it. "It is impossibile on the same page.

that anything could better express than this, either the wild

and practical joking of the Satyrs, or the action of the “ Silenus bids his Satyrs awake a couple of Sylvans, who have thing described, or the quaintness and fitness of the imafallen asleep while they should have kepl watch." ges, or the melody and even the harinony, the intercourse of

the musical words one with another. None but a boon “ Buz, quoth the blue fly,

coinpanion, with a very musical ear, could have written it." Hum, quoth the bee;

And this is criticism!

go

Cloud;" some passages from Alastor, “ The Sen-, no microscopic eye in many of the passages quoted. sitive Plant," " Lioes written among the Euganean His old coined words, “sphery," " prosaicalness," Hills,” “ The Spirit of Delight,” or a hundred " unsuperfluousness," "one-ness," &c., still occaother equally beautiful gems, in place of the tire- sionally futter round his pen, and force themselves some lines “ To a Lady with a Guitar,” which is in, despite his better judgment. He speaks of a specimen of his flattest moods. But, if we be- “ Boitom and his brother mechanicals" in Midsomgin to enumerate what should have been here, we mer's Night Dream, and defines Count Cenci, in shall not soon have done. We know Hunt to be Shelley's magnificent tragedy, to be “a potent ruffond of the elder poets, then why have we nothing fan.” Sometimes, indeed, he ambitiously attempts from Raleigh, Giles, and Phineas Fletcher, Carew, a higher flight than his ordinary, careless, slipDrayton, Ford, Massinger, Suckling, Cowley, Love- shod, chatiy, rambling style, and then his hippolace and Waller ? Why that hiatus valdè deflendus griff, ascending into unaccustomed regions, befrom Milton to Coleridge? Is there nothing in comes so utterly bewildered, that its devious course Dryden, Parnell, Prior, Gay, Pope, Thomson, Col. can scarcely be traced. How lucid is the followlins, Gray, Young, Akenside, Goldsmith, Burns, ing final definition of verse! He evidently feels Cowper, Campbell, Byron, Scott, or Southey, that in it he has exhausted the subject; there is worthy to adorn Mr. Hunt's pages ? Was imagina- nothing more to be said concerning it, and that tion a faculty totally dormant ihroughout the eigh- from so self-evident a decision there is no appeal. teenth century ? The truth of the matter is, that Hunt feels his slender claims to immortality as “ Verse, in short, is that finishing and rounding, poet are entirely destroyed, if any of the writers, and tuneful planetting of the poet's creations, from Milton to Coleridge, are admitted to be poets, which is produced of necessity by the smooth tenand he therefore endeavors to hug himself into a lihe harmonious dance into which they are attract

dencies of their energy, or inward working, and theory and a belief, by which they shall be entirely ed round the orb of the beautiful.” excluded. It remains now hut to say a few words concern

Well done! We especially like that idea of the ing the style in which the editor's part of the work poet's creations skipping it on the light fantastic is written. We have given a specimen or two of toe, and many-twinkling feet, round the word of his commentaries on the selected passages. These the beautiful.” The only regret it leaves with us are sometimes produced in a style rambling, chatty, is, that we had not been there 10 see it. diffuse, and incomprehensible, as the following on

Of Leigh Hunt, it may verily be said " nihil a line in Spenser, “ The World of Waters, Wide quod teligit non inquinavit.He attempts to and Deep."

praise nothing that he does not tend to lower in our “ How complete a sense of the ocean under one

estimation. His panegyric on Shelley, in " Byron of its aspects ! Spenser had often been to sea, and and his Cotemporaries,” for a while almost gave us his pictures of it, or in connection with it, are fre- a dislike to that noble and nearly blameless chaquent and fine accordingly, superior, perhaps, to racter. He has a trilling, childish manner of any other poet, Milton certainly, except in that one praising, that frequently disgusts one with the obfamous imaginative passage, in which he describes

How disagreeable are a fleet at a distance as seeming to hang in the clouds. jects of his admiration. And Shakespeare throws himself wonderfully into the following remarks concerning Shakespeare, a storm at sea, as if he had been in the thick of whom he is comparing with Dante ! it, though it is not known that he ever quitted land. But nobody talks so much about the sea, or its in- “It is far better, that as a higher, more univerhabitants, or its voyagers as Spenser," &c. sal, and more beneficent variety of the genus Poet,

he should have been the happier man he was, and Sometimes, however, he is equally terse and ele- left us the plump cheeks on his monument, instead gant, as in the following remark on Coleridge's of the carking visage of the great, but over-serious pretty verses on “ Youth and Age."

and one-sided Florentine. Even the imagination " This is

of Spenser, whom we take to have been a one of the most perfect poems for style, feeling, vous gentleman” compared with Shakespeare, was and every thing (!) that ever were wrillen."

visited with no such dreams as Dante. Or, if it Hunt has somewhat improved his language since was, he did not choose to make himself thinner, liis palmy days, when he wrote the Lingua Cock- (as Dante says he did.) with dwelling upon them. neyana, and was truculently blackguarded by Chris. He had twenty visions of nymphs and bowers, to

one of the mud of Tartarus." topher North. He still retains, however, à portion of the old leaven, and some of his vulgar

It were shame to interfere with the effect of so smartness and "jauntiness,” may be discerned with

poetical a passage, by any more of our own re• How contemptibly Hunt here shows his envy of By- marks. ron; not eveu mentioning the name of him, whose descrip

L. tions of the sea are much more masterly than those of any other writer.

Philadelphia, 1845.

ner.

The shore was wild, and frail their bark,

The river white with foam, THE SACHEM'S DAUGHTER.

The storm-wind loud, and night hung dark

Around that island-home. The golden sheaf, the costly flower

But strong his arm, and quick his eye; To other hands I leave,

His heart beat firm and true; From the poor gleanings of an hour

And, smiling at the dangers nigh, My humble wreath to weave.

Across the foam they flew.
It is a tale of the olden time,
of fair things passed away,

Alas! alas! What foe has seen
A true and sad, though simple rhyme
Of the Indian maid Naray. *

Their flight across the flood ?
Whence came that arrow, swift and keen?

And whose this red life-blood ?
Fair as the moon, long time ago,

Back sinks the Chief !-down drops the oar! Beside the Saco's wave,

The voyage is well-nigh through! Grew up “ The Daughter of the Roe,”

For, whirling madly from the shore, And there she found her grave :

Down darts the light canoe.
Of all her tribe the flower and pride,

A Sachem's only child, -
And, proud and stern to all beside,

Swift, and more swiftly, on it flies,
On her alone he smiled.

Swept by the current's might,
While, from the shore, a thousand cries

Or horror wake the night.
Forgotten is the maiden's fame!

Naray! My Daughter! seize the oar !"
Gone, like a mist, her race !
The Pale-Face and his daughters claim

The Sachem wildly cried ;

She heard amidst the water's roar, Their long-lost dwelling. place.

And proudly thus replied : of prouder air, and brighter hue,

Right lovely maids are they ; And yet, I ween, as fair, more true

“ Cease, Sachem! All I love is here ! Was she,-the maid Naray.

'Tis well! For me he died !

A Sachem's daughter knows no fear! E'en from the Saco's mountain home,

No fear, a Sachem's bride !" Where first it springeih free,

The death-chant then the maiden sung, To where,-a roaring sheet of foam,

With voice all wild and clear, It leaps into the sea,

While to her lover's corpse she clung,
Each Indian youth, with troubled breast,

And watched the rapids near.
In dreams by night and day,
Worn with the chase, or stretched at rest,

Poised on the cataract's awful brow,
Sighed only for Naray.

She hears the deafening roar!
One look,

-one leap -to the golf below! But on them all she looked unmoved,

Their bridal voyage was o'er! As cold and pure as snow,

He beat his breast, he turned away, And sadly smiled,- for ah, she loved

-The Sachem of that isle, Her father's mortal foe!

And from that day, old legends say,
A thousand warriors to the field

He ne'er was seen to smile.
He led in fierce array,
But at her feet the warrior kneeled, -
And won the maid Naray.

Long may the sparkling Saco flow,

But never will be seen

Another “ Daughter of the Roe," The day has come, the hour, to claim

Upon its banks, I ween. His long-expected bride;

And shouldest thou chance those rocks to climb, And stealthily the chieftain came,

Thou mayest recall my lay ;And clasped her to his side.

This idle rhyme of the olden time, “ Haste! Haste !" he cries, “my dark-eyed queen!

And the Indian maid Naray,
I've kept my plighted word,
And come unarmed, alone, unseen!

H. G. s. Fly! Fly, thou forest bird !"

Maine. * The name Naray, signifies, The Daughter of the Roe.

force, the panegyrics of yet warmer admirers, and RUSH'S RESIDENCE AT THE COURT OF LONDON,*

the tremendous invective of Robert Hall, how is

poor, puzzled Posterity to make up its estimate of This is not a book to excite raptures in the the great Premier ? His monument, however, seen reader, nor to keep his fancy or his risibles per-|by Mr. Rush in Guildhall, has an inscription petually tickled, as Mr. Willis' notes of travel do. pithily stating three facts, which can scarcely be Mr. Rush's small talk is of a more dignified kind, reconciled with the idea of the extreme corraptas beseems an ambassador; mingling itself, not un-ness imputed to Pilt by his enemies : “ He dispengracefully, with high diplomatic and political mat- SED FOR TWENTY YEARS THE FAVORS OF THE Crown, ters.

Altogether, therefore, his performance is LIVED WITHOUT OSTENTATION, AND DIED POOR." more than ordinarily pleasant and instructive. It We may hereafter shew that Lord Castlereagh has one tendency, which alone would suffice to was another conspicuous example of ill-appreciastamp a high value upon the work : and that is, to ted merit, or el se of wrongly-lauded worthlessness. to make us think better both of the English people Our author visited a rare collection of curiosities, and the English government than we Americans belonging to a Mr. Weeks, who valued the whole are just now prone to do. For even in the ad. at 400,000 pounds. lis wonders of mechanism ministration of Lord Castlereagh, which has com- would be enough to astonish even this more wonmonly passed here for bigoted, arrogant, and, to-der-rife age—birds that not only sung, but hopt wards America as towards Ireland, greedy of all from stick to stick in their cages ; mice, of pearl, unfair advantages,-Mr. Rush plainly shows us a that could run about nimbly; human figures of full courtesy, liberality, and fair dealing almost equal size, playing on musical instruments, in full band;" to what are now to be looked for in Baring and all, as Mr. Rush gravely adds, without “a particle Peel, or in their yet more liberal opponents, Ma- of life in them.” There were silver swans swimcaulay and Lord John Russell. This, however, ming in water, serpents winding themselves on is but the general effect of making nations acquaint- trees, &c. Mr. Weeks had prepared his museum ed with each other : we might indeed say, of ma- for the Chinese market : but the exclusiveness of king men acquainted with each other. For in the Celestials had kept him out, and he was in desnineteen cases out of twenty, better liking comes pair of success. “ However," said he, “one of from better acquaintance.

these days England will oblige China to receive Through the intercourse, formal and informal, of her wares, by making her feel the strong arm of Mr. Rush and the British ministers, there runs her power.” A remarkable prediction, which in much of that spirit of straightforwardness which, three and twenty years we have seen verified. it may be hoped, is now getting to be a fixed cha- Mr. Rush declares that he wrote it down in Weeks' racteristic of diplomacy. And if it was so with own words, in 1819. Castlereagh and Vansittart, (Lord Bexley,) whom It is curious, that while many able and conscienTom Moore has so unsparingly transfixed with the tious men in this country were heaping censure arrows of his satire, and doomed to a bad noto- upon General Jackson for his execution of Arbuthriety,—how much more is to be hoped from the not and Ambrister,—and mainly, because it viowise and temperate statesmanship which now rules lated the Law of Nations, and gave England a the councils of England! There is to be discerned, cause of war against us—the British ministry were even in the distant days of 1818, when the absur. acklowledging among themselves, and declaring in dity of war had not impressed itself upon the com- Parliament, that they could not complain of it, since mon sense of, mankind half so vividly as now, a those two men had put themselves out of their coungreat deal of that open, humane, and forbearing try's protection, by going into a foreign territory, and temper between negociators, which, now pervading intermeddling in a foreign quarrel. The English nations, promises far more than legions or armadas, Press, and the opposition speakers in the House of to keep the peace of the world.

Commons, made fierce assaults upon Ministers for The questionableness of all History has been a taking such ground: but Ministers persisted in it, frequent subject of sneering, or of regret : and no and the nation sustained them, as did the general part of History is more clouded with doubts, than opinion of other nations. Mr. Canning the part in which she hands down the characters of member) in one of his speeches, dis! great personages. The Younger Pitt, for example, the right of Great Britain to cl how hard it is to assign him his true place in the It was the same principle of in Temple of Fame ! Between the eulogy of Wilber- obliged our government to

the massacre of Fanning + Memoranda of a Residence at the Court of London, horrid atrocities perpetra comprising incidents official and personal from 1819 10 1825. countrymen, who had inte Including negotiations on the Oregon qnestion, and other unsettled questions between the United States and Great gle. The execution of Britain. By Richard Rush, Envoy Extraordinary, &c. however, brought us nean I vol. 8 vo., pp. 640.

gined by any common p

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