He

study of Astronomy involves of the most
useful principles in Natural Philosophy;
but every one at all acquainted with the
science, has remarked upon its tendency to
elevate and ennoble the mind. What does
this mean? That it fills the imagination
with sublime and exalted views of Him,
who built and rules these countless worlds?
This it surely does, but it stops not here;
its tendency to purify the heart, by correct-id, and resolute, patient labour?
ing our selfishness, is no less to be valued Mr Bryant does not seem to be wanting
than its power of enlarging the understand-in ambition, or in the disposition to attempt
ing. In our early years we regard this lit- arduous things; but he sustains himself at
tle globe as the greatest and most import- his loftiest height with so strong a wing,
ant in the universe, and consider the sun we cannot but think he might have gone Most of the pieces are very short, and all
and moon and stars as merely its servants. higher. We hope he is not lazy; we hope are upon subjects sufficiently trite; yet there
Just so, we regard ourselves as the centre he is willing to do what no American has is very little of commonplace in any of them.
of living beings, and consider all others as done; what no one but himself has given This is a striking characteristic of Mr
more or less useful and important in the presumptive proof, that he can do. We Bryant's poetry, and seems to arise, not
system of life, as they promote our objects trust he will attempt, with earnestness and from a determination to be eccentric, when
and are subservient to our wills. Some- determination, to make one poem, long he can be nothing better, but because his
thing of this utter self-conceit necessarily enough to task all his powers, and good mind has its own character, and will im-
leaves us as we advance in life, and more enough to reward his severest toil. Parts of press it upon all its works. He is a good
of it becomes concealed, even from our- this volume are truly admirable, and have thinker, and never uses fine words to
selves; but much, far too much remains. already won for their author an exalted adorn or conceal thoughts, which have no
There are, however, few men and certainly and extended reputation; but he must intrinsic value or beauty.
no children, whose selfishness is so obdu- know, that it is regarded as a promise In this country there is no lack of poet-
rate as not to yield in some degree to the rather than a performance; as indicating ical talent or of poetical aspirants; and it
influence of a science, which at once car- rather the possession of extraordinary pow-grieves us to see the powers that are
ries their thoughts away from themselves ers, than their exertion. Though the Eng-wasted in imitation of Goldsmith, of Scott,
and the narrow world about them, and lish critics say of him, that their poets must of Byron, and, worst of all, of Moore. This
places them in other centres and surrounds look to their laurels now that such a com- will not do; a mere imitator cannot be a
them with other spheres, and discloses to petitor has entered the lists, yet let him poet; indeed, so much had we been sick-
them a universe expanding into infinity, and remember, that a few jousts in the ring, ened by the "crambe recocta" of most of
shows them how assuming and profane is never established the reputation of a knight. our versifiers, that we had begun to despair
that self-love, which says, "I, and none If he adds not to the talents he has already of seeing an original poet formed on this
else beside me."
exhibited, a capacity for more sustained side of the Atlantic; our pleasure was
and persevering effort, than so small a equalled by our surprise, when we took up
work,-elaborate as it is,-could require, Bryant's poems, listened to the uncommon
he may make more odes and songs, beau- melody of the versification, wondered at the
tiful as such things well can be, but will writer's perfect command of language, and
never build up a lasting monument of found that they were American poems.
mighty power, strenuously, resolutely, and We were not pleased with all alike, for the
successfully put forth.
construction of some lines in "The Ages,"
and in "Thanatopsis" reminded us rather
too strongly of the Lake School; but the
ode "To a Waterfowl," is a beautiful and
harmonious blending of various beauties into

more pretension, have given the world power, which constitute a poet, would be
abundant proof, that political and economic impatient of deformity. He could not suf
wisdom came across the waters with our fer a false and gaudy glitter to mingle its
fathers and are no way stinted in their ray with purer light, nor be satisfied, while
growth in this new soil; but how many beautiful conceptions were clothed with
books have we, which exhibit, like every inadequate and clumsy expressions.
page of Mr Bryant's poetry, an union of must, by the very condition of his poetical
fine taste well taught and disciplined, with existence, do as Mr Bryant has done;
an imagination, prompt, original and splend-labour on that, which he has written;
scrutinize and meditate upon, not only his
thoughts but the forms they assume, until
it would not be easy to improve a single
page, by striking out one idea or changing
one expression.

Another moral use to be derived from this study results from the fact, that some sort of analogy between the material and spiritual heavens is perceived by every person, and is recognised in the Sacred Scriptures, and in the languages of all nations. This analogy is naturally and almost necessarily kept in view, while surveying the marks of wisdom and beneficence, displayed in the material heavens; and it is this which gives to the science that teaches

by this stupendous scaffolding, Creation's golden steps, to climb to Him,'" a dignity which illustrates no other science, and almost invests it with the sanctity and the influence of religion.

Poems, by William Cullen Bryant.

one.

We have been awed with the boldness and sublimity of the metaphoric language of Wordsworth, have been soothed by the deep and quiet tone of moral sentiment, which pervades many of the works of Southey, and delighted with the skilful adaptation of epithets in the odes of Collins; but we do not remember any poem, in which these high excellencies are more happily united, than in the short ode mentioned above.

We are very far from complaining, that
the poetry now published by Mr Bryant, is
not sufficiently laboured; its defects, if any
it has, arise only from excessive fondness
for certain models or styles of poetry. Our
national fashion of doing every thing, is, to
despatch the matter in hand, rather rapidly
than thoroughly. A young man, therefore,
toiling with persevering care upon a few
pieces of poetry written in the intervals of
professional exertion, is quite a strange
Cam-sight. The poetry in this volume, is strongly
marked with every characteristic which
could be impressed upon it, by the most
watchful, laborious, and repeated revision.
We may have readers, who will think this,
nothing in its favour; but we differ from
them altogether. No valuable result can
repay slight efforts, for every great
thing must "be born of great endeav-serve as a specimen.
ours;"-and this is as true of poetry as of
all other things. A fortunate accident
may throw into a poet's head, or upon his
paper, some bright thoughts or happy lines;
but it is not thus those things are written,
over which time has no power.

bridge, 1821. 12mo. 44 pages. WE are not afraid of praising Mr Bryant too much, but of praising him injudiciously. We are in little danger of giving the public too exalted an opinion of his poetic powers and works; but we feel that there is much in this little volume, which it is difficult to measure by any usual criterion, or to class with other works of kindred character. We have no hesitation in saying, that no American, whose productions are within our knowledge, has written so good poetry as Mr Bryant; and we confess, that in our opinion, no volume can be indicated more honorable to the literature of our country than this thin duodecimo.

Other works of greater magnitude and

Indeed, a true poet cannot be satisfied with imperfection; that exquisite perception of beauty, and the sensibility to its

"The Ages" is the first and longest poem, and was delivered before the BK Society, at Cambridge. It is in the Spenserian stanza; the following extract may

"Has Nature, in her calm majestic march,
Faltered with age at last? does the bright sun
Grow dim in heaven? or, in their far blue arch,
Sparkle the crowd of stars, when day is done,
Less brightly? when the dew-lipped Spring comes

on,

Breathes she with airs less soft, or scents the sky
With flowers less fair than when her reign begun?
Does prodigal Autumn, to our age, deny
The plenty that once swelled beneath his sober eye?

Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth
In her fair page; see, every season brings
New change, to her, of everlasting youth;
Still the green soil, with joyous living things,
Swarms, the wide air is full of joyous wings,
And myriads, still, are happy in the sleep
Of Ocean's azure gulfs, and where he flings
The restless surge. Eternal Love doth keep,
In his complacent arms, the earth, the air, the deep.

"Will then the merciful One, who stamped our

come,

And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glide away, the sons of men,
The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron, and maid,
The bowed with age, the infant in the smiles
And beauty of its innocent age cut off,--
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,
By those, who in their turn shall follow them.
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, that moves

To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take

His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night
Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams."

POLITICS.

Among the smaller pieces, we are most pleased with that "To a Waterfowl;" but it has been so often quoted, we dare not ON THE GROWTH OF THE UNITED STATES OF extract it. Perhaps we have quoted enough already; the book must be in many of the hands into which we should wish our Ga

zette to fall, but there cannot be any who
would be unwilling to read again a part of
the last piece in the volume, entitled
"Thanatopsis."

"To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty; and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And gentle sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images

Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;
Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings, while from all around-
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air,-
Comes a still voice-Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean shall exist
Thy image.

Yet not to thy eternal resting place

Shalt thou retire alone-nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world-with kings
The powerful of the earth-the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre.-The hills
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,-the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods-rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and poured round

all,

Old ocean's grey and melancholy waste,--
Are but the solemn decorations all

Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death,

AMERICA.

summer's heat; and both in summer and winter we clothe ourselves rather for an English than an American season. But a much more serious misconception is that, which takes for granted a similarity in political and moral condition. The books, which we read and approve, on theoretical politics, were written in countries wholly or nearly stationary in numbers and wealth. The political maxims, which pass undisputed into our minds, have been established under a different kind of experience, and therefore furnish no guide to us. Nay more, as our situation and circumstances are constantly changing, our numbers rapidly multiplying, and our resources daily disclosing themselves, it is difficult rightly to interpret even our own experience. Far from listening merely to the truth and the fact of today, we cannot thoroughly reason on American politics, without wisely calculating what will be the fact and what will be the truth fifty or one hundred years hence.

Let us make the application of this remark to the subject of our national debt. No one needs be asked to reflect, that the burden of a debt depends upon its relation to the resources of the debtor. In private life, a debt of one hundred dollars hangs round one man's neck like a millstone, while his wealthy neighbour borrows THE rapid increase of population and the a hundred thousand dollars, to help make The little debt great accumulation of wealth, in this coun-up a profitable voyage. try, have been often enough the topics of remark. We have all frequently heard that our population has doubled in the period of about twenty-three years, since the earliest settlement of the country. We have all, with more or less attention, contemplated the tide of emigration, which is constantly carrying this population westward, filling the new States and yet not exhausting the old. We have become familiar with the spectacle of regions, which, but a generation ago, were an almost uninhabited wilderness, now not only the abode but the nursery of men, from which other regions, farther distant in the boundless west, are in their turn receiving their inhabitants,-to a degree to authorize the striking remark in the late powerful speech of Mr. Clay on internal improvements, that "the greatest migrating States in the Union at this time, are Kentucky first, Ohio next, and Tennessee next."

But though the United States have been and still are in a state of astonishing progress, to which the world affords no parallel,-a progress impossible, underinstitutions less free, or geographical conditions less propitious, we think that the influence of this growth, actual and prospective, has not been sufficiently studied. It we mistake not, several consequences of high practical importance result immediately from it, which have not been as yet duly estimated and borne in mind. It has been justly said that, as far as climate goes, our forefathers brought with them, and their children have preserved, the manners and modes of life of a different region. We build our houses too slightly to resist the winter's cold or the

may be ruinous to the one, the great debt may be advantageously contracted by the other. If by any turn of the wheel of fortune, the poor fellow, who is ruined by his debt of one hundred dollars, could come into possession of one hundred thousand, his former debt of course would be in the last degree insignificant. Now our country is in possession of a fund of rapidly increasing national wealth. This fund consists in the almost indefinite capacity of increase in numbers and of multiplication of resources. In the year 1850, there is no reason to doubt that this country, instead of ten millions of inhabitants, will contain twenty millions, each of whom will, in the average, be as wealthy as each one of the present population. There is no reason to doubt this; and the whole experience of the country furnishes reasons to admit it. Thus then, in the year 1350 one half of the debt of the United States will be paid off, though its nominal amount may remain the same as it is now; that is to say, the people of the United States, who owe this sum, will be a body twice as numerous, and composed of individuals, on the average, each as wealthy.

This one reflection, of a nature obvious enough to approve itself even to a hasty reader, will suffice to show the wonderful felicity of our situation. Could any statesman lay claim to the glory of having, by an act of policy, a judicious investment, a fortunate commutation of stocks, reduced a public debt of one hundred millions to fifty millions, in the space of twenty-three or four years, without any tax upon the people, direct or indirect, and without the appropria

tion of a cent of their money, he would nation of customers, therefore, not in being which have our vast quantity of unoccupied pass rather as the inventer of the philoso- when its wheels began to move eleven land, acting as a constant stimulus to popupher's stone, than as a skilful financier. years ago, has since sprung into exist-lation; nor any country where a populaAnd yet this effect has been and is produc-ence. A population, as large as that of tion, doubling every twenty-three years, is ed by the simple progress of our country; the thirteen United States when they es- constantly employed in extracting abundby the mere healthful action of its political tablished their independence, has in the ance from a boundless extent of soil. Still, organization. short space of thirteen years risen up and however, in many of the countries of EuIn saying, however, that every twenty-three calls aloud for cheap cottons. Is there any rope strong principles of improvement are or four years the population of this country is thing in diplomacy like this? to add three at work; and consequently of increase in doubled and its aggregate amount of wealth millions of a vigorous kindred population wealth. In England, the great perfection doubled also, it is plain we are far, very far to our country in thirteen years;-not on to which the mechanical arts have been within bounds, as it concerns the latter. a distant coast, not in a ceded province, brought within seventy years, and the inThe increase of the wealth of this country not to be kept subject to us by regiments crease of wealth resulting from this and is going on in a ratio of astonishing magni- of bayonets; but brethren, within our bor- some other causes, have produced effects tude. We may easily convince ourselves ders, friends, countrymen, to bear with us almost as important as those which, in this of this, by looking ceither at our cities or our the public burdens, and share the public country, we trace to the mere healthy ac villages; on our Atlantic coasts, or in our blessings. tion of our system. The author of the arwestern regions. The number and size of To revert then to the train of reasoning ticle, to which we have alluded, in the the dwelling-houses, the public edifices, the from which we started, it is plain, that, if, Edinburgh Review, has made use of this tonnage, the stores in the cities;-the in consideration of our duplication in num- circumstance to save the credit of Hume's steam-boats, bridges, canals, roads; the ag-bers attended only by a corresponding du- prediction, relative to a national bankruptricultural stock of all kinds; the factories; plication of national wealth, our public cy, when the debt should amount to one the quantity of land cleared and clear- debt may be looked on as half paid off at hundred millions of pounds. The author of ing, if estimated at the same periods with the end of twenty-three or four years, this article says this event has been kept the population, will be found to have ad- when we consider that our national wealth off, not by the efficacy of the funding sysvanced with a far more rapid progression. increases much more rapidly than this, the tem, but by the Arkwrights, Watts, &c. This increase will go on for ages,-not burden of the public debt will decline much But the true principle we take to be that, equally in all the things we have enumerat- more rapidly also. The number of fertile which we have stated already, that increase ed; for the very causes, which check it in acres over which the burden is equalized, the of national wealth is diminution of national some, will promote it in others. As the in- number of vigorous and industrious arms debt. It admits little doubt that England is crease of population in the new countries able to contribute toward defraying the ten times richer than she was when Hume declines by their becoming filled up, the in- public charges, is increasing in stupend- made his prediction: although it may be crease of another species of wealth, manufac-ous progression. granted that he went too far, in saying that turing or commercial, will begin. But, upon Without yielding any apology for public a debt of one hundred millions, even in the the whole, an almost indefinite multiplica- extravagance, for which nothing can apol- middle of the last century, would have protion of national resources will be going on.ogise; the state of things, to which we have duced a bankruptcy in England. If EngThe means, by which this multiplication will adverted, shows the propriety of permitting land is ten times richer than when Hume be effected, are very various. In one in- the existence of a moderate and well regu- made his prophecy, then, as her debt does stance, a treaty gives us a vast tract of lated funding system in this country. An not amount to ten times one hundred milland; and judicious laws to settle its land ingenious essay is contained in the last num-lions of pounds, the case, which he puts, has titles will throw open the flood gates of ber of the Edinburgh Review, of which the not yet occurred. How much farther the emigration. In another case, it will seem object is to show the vicious policy of rais-debt of that nation may run, without bankto be the steam-boat, which, by presenting ing money by loans, instead of by supplies the means of breasting an impetuous current, within the year. In a stationary or in a very will connect the source and the mouth of slowly advancing state, the loan policy is of rivers four thousand miles in length. In course entirely delusive, incapable of dianother case, it is a fortunate discovery of minishing the burden of the public charga machine like the saw-gin, which has of es, and if carried to great lengths must itself centupled the wealth of the cotton-end in national bankruptcy, if not in revogrowing States. In another instance, the lution. But in a country whose wealth is noble enterprise of a canal will, as it were, rapidly increasing, it is a sound and good turn the continent inside out, and bring policy to divide the burden of an extraorits centre to the sea coast, within the reach dinary conjuncture of affairs, not merely of the trade of the world. In these and with a posterity as able as ourselves to pay innumerable other ways, to be devised and it, but far richer, far abler. This principle executed by the ever-active ingenuity and is constantly acted upon in private life. How the awakened sagacity of a free people, many of our young men procure their eduthe wealth of this country is growing be- cation at an expense far beyond their immeyond the power of figuring to estimate: diate resources, and to be defrayed out of and with it the size of all markets of de- the fruits of their industry in life. The mand and of supply will increase in the term posterity hardly applies to a prospersame ratio. This calculation already be-ous and growing nation. It is the same gins to be made by our intelligent manu- political and social organization, stronger facturers. Ask them if they are not afraid and richer, better able to make efforts, and of overstocking the market; and, while to bear burdens. Such a posterity surely is they admit indeed that such a thing is pos- not wronged by being made to bear a part sible, they bid you nevertheless remember, of the burden of revolutions and wars, to that this market is expanding with wonder-which it owes its privileges. ful rapidity. Since the Waltham factory In thus setting forth the astonishing prowas established in 1813, the population of gress of our own country, in numbers and the United States has increased three mil-wealth, we of course do not mean to say lions; an amount equal to our whole num-that other countries are making no progress. bers in the revolutionary war. A whole It is true there are no countries in Europe,

ruptcy, is matter of doubt. Upon the whole, we think there is little reason to charge Hume, on this occasion, with extravagant miscalculation.

The mighty increase of our country in numbers and wealth, admits several other applications; at which, however, we have room only to hint.

The intellectual character of a nation and of an age results of course from the combined action and mutual reaction of the individuals who compose them. In a country whose numbers are very slowly increasing, are stationary, or are declining, the rising and risen generations are equally balanced; and an easy transmission of manners and opinions, as of hereditary titles, fortunes, and domains, is made from father to son. The case is very different in a country, where every period of ten years makes new divisions in society; where new towns, counties, and states are continually springing up; where men are born, not to a narrow inheritance of obsolete functions, but to go out into new regions, and be the legislators and the chieftains of rising generations; where new prizes for industry are perpetually offered; new markets for trade opened; new conjunctures in civil administration brought about; new positions, social, political, and moral, taken. If to

this novelty of career, we add the extraor-confidence. The scene itself is dreadful | farther, and the light of the sun no longer dinary life and activity resulting from our enough, and its natural terrors, if armed shone upon us. There was a grave-like rapid growth, and the earnestness of com- with the persuasion that our design cannot twilight, which enabled us to see our way, petition, which will spring from it, we have be accomplished, will inevitably defeat it. when the irregular blasts of wind drove the reason to predict that our country will It is a general impression, that, to go un-water from us; but most of the time it was make a call on the efforts of her sons, der the falls, we must walk upon the level, blown upon us from the sheet with such such as has scarce ever been felt in any where they spend their fury, and within fury that every drop seemed a sting, and other region. It will ere long, if it does arm's length of the torrent; but it is not in such quantities that the weight was alnot already, demand an enterprise, an en-so; our path lies upon the top of a bank at most insupportable. My situation was disergy, a courage, a manliness of character least thirty feet above the bottom of the tracting; it grew darker at every step, and from its children, proportioned, not merely abyss, and as far in a horizontal line from in addition to the general tremor with to the extent of its territories, but to the the course of the falls, and close under the which every thing in the neighbourhood of indefinitely increasing numbers of its think- immense rock which supports them. This Niagara is shuddering, I could feel the ing, reasoning, voting men. The old spe- bank overhangs us, as one side of an irreg- shreds and splinters of the rock yield as I cifics for strong government, the sword and ular arch, of which the corresponding side seized them for support, and my feet were the axe, will be here of no avail: and those is formed by the sheet of water; and thus, continually slipping upon the slimy stones. who administer our affairs will be required instead of groping our way at the foot of a I was obliged, more than once, to have reto bring to their duty a singleness and a dis- narrow passage, we stand mounted in a stu- course to the prescription of the guide to interestedness of purpose, as well as a pow- pendous cavern. cure my giddiness, and though I would have er and skill, not called for from the inmates On a fine morning in August last, soon given the world to retrace my steps, I felt of the luxurious cabinets of Europe. What after sunrise, I set out with a friend and a myself following his darkened figure, vanwill be the character of the next age in guide to visit this sublime scene. The first ishing before me, as the maniac, faithful to this country is to be decided, not by pre- thing to be done, after descending the tow- the phantoms of his illusion, pursues it to scriptions descending from the former, but er of steps, is to strip ourselves of all cloth- his doom. All my faculties of terror seemby the direction, which may be taken by ing, except a single covering of linen, anded strained to their extreme, and my mind twice as many active minds as now exist in a silk handkerchief tied tight over the ears. lost all sensation, except the sole idea of the country, influencing, modifying, and This costume, with the addition of a pair of an universal, prodigious, and unbroken mobalancing each other. We are much in pumps, is the court-dress of the palace of tion. the wrong if the effect of this state of Niagara. things be not, to give new importance in education, to the study of human nature and to the arts more immediately exercised in social intercourse, and to throw into the shade the merely speculative and learned acquisitions.

MISCELLANY.

NIAGARA.

The thoughts are strange, which crowd into my brain,
While I look upward to thee. It would seem
As if God poured thee from his hollow hand,
And hung his bow upon thy awful front,

We passed about fifty rods under the Table rock, beneath whose brow and crumbling sides we could not stop to shudder, our minds were at once so excited and oppressed, as we approached that eternal gateway, which nature has built of the motionless rock and the rushing torrent, as a fitting entrance to her most awful magnificence. We turned a jutting corner of the rock, and the chasm yawned upon us. The noise of the cataract was most deafening; its headlong grandeur rolled from the very skies; we were drenched by the overflowings of the stream; our breath was checked by the

And spoke in that loud voice which seemed to him violence of the wind, which for a moment

Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour's sake,
The sound of many waters; and thy flood
Had bidden chronicle the ages back,
And notch his centuries in the eternal rocks.
Deep calleth unto deep. And what are we,
Who hear this awful questioning; O what
Are all the stirring notes that ever rang
From war's vain trumpet, by thy thundering side!
Yea, what is all the riot man can make
In his short life, to thy unceasing roar!
And yet, bold babbler, what art thou to Him
Who drowned a world, and heaped the waters far
Above its loftiest mountains? A light wave,
That breaks and whispers of its Maker's might.

ANON.

Notwithstanding the number of people, who constantly visit Niagara from all parts of the country, yet there are, with whom it is matter of some doubt, whether a man may go beneath the falls, and live. Many, when they look upon this scene, are overcome with terror and cannot approach it. Others, of firmer nerves, venture into the ancillary droppings of this queen of waters, and, confounded by the noise, wind, and spray, and still more by their own imagination, scramble into daylight, fully persuaded they could not have lived there a moment longer.

But effectually to achieve this performance, it is only necessary that we have

scattered away the clouds of spray, when a
full view of the torrent, raining down its
diamonds in infinite profusion, opened upon
us. Nothing could equal the flashing bril-
liancy of the spectacle. The weight of
the falling waters made the very rock be-
neath us tremble, and from the cavern that
received them issued a roar, as if the con-
fined spirits of all who had ever been
drowned, joined in an united scream for
help! Here we stood,-in the very jaws
of Niagara, deafened by an uproar, whose
tremendous din seemed to fall upon the ear
in tangible and ceaseless strokes, and sur-
rounded by an unimaginable and oppressive
grandeur. My mind recoiled from the im-
mensity of the tumbling tide; and thought
of time and of eternity, and felt that noth-
ing but its own immortality could rise against
the force of such an element.

The guide now stopped to take breath.
He told us, by hollooing in our ears at the
top of his voice, "that we must turn our
heads away from the spray when it blew
against us, draw the hand downwards over
the face if we felt giddy, and not rely too
much on the loose pieces of rock." With
these instructions he began to conduct us,
one by one, beneath the sheet. A few steps

Although the noise exceeded by far the extravagance of my anticipation, I was in some degree prepared for this. I expected too, the loss of breath from the compression of the air, though not the suffocation of the spray; but the wind, the violence of the wind exceeding, as I thought, in swiftness and power the most desolating hurricane-how came the wind there? There, too, in such violence and variety, as if it were the cave of Eolus in rebellion. One would think that the river above, fearful of the precipice to which it was rushing, in the folly of its desperation, had seized with giant arms upon the upper air, and in

its half-way course abandoned it in agony.

We now came opposite a part of the sheet, which was thinner, and of course lighter. The guide stopped, and pointed upwards; I looked-and beheld the sun, "shorn of his beams" indeed, and so quenched with the multitudinous waves, that his faint rays shed but a pale and silvery hue upon the cragged and ever humid walls of the cavern.

Nothing can be looked at steadily beneath Niagara. The hand must constantly guard the eyes against the showers which are forced from the main body of the fall, and the head must be constantly averted from a steady position, to escape the sudden and vehement blasts of wind. One is constantly exposed to the sudden rising of the spray, which bursts up like smoke from a furnace, till it fills the whole cavern, and then, condensed with the rapidity of steam, is precipitated in rain; in addition to which, there is no support but flakes of the rock, which are constantly dropping off; and nothing to stand upon but a bank of loose stones covered with innumerable eels.

Still there are moments when the eye, at one glance, can catch a glimpse of this magnificent saloon. On one side the enormouse ribs of the precipice arch themselves

with Gothic grandeur more than one hun- | Yet feared to alight on the guarded ground.
dred feet above our heads, with a rotten-And, when the shadows of twilight came,
And heard at my side his stealthy tread,
I have seen the hyena's eyes of flame,
But aye at my shout the savage fled;
And I threw the lighted brand, to fright
The jackal and wolf that yelled in the night.
Ye were foully murdered, my hapless sons,
Ye fell, in your fresh and blooming prime,
All innocent, for your father's crime.
He sinned-but he paid the price of his guilt
When his blood by a nameless hand was spilt;
When he strove with the heathen host in vain,
And fell with the flower of his people slain,
From his injured lineage passed way.
And the sceptre his children's hands should sway

He had tasted of the water of Zemzeim holy well,
And could read the monarch's magic ring, and speak
the direful spell.

And there he watched, that aged man, till they had
Calpe past,

And saw, with eye of boding gloom, the land reced-
ing fast.

"Blow, blow ye winds, and waft us far from Xeres' glorious plain,

Then be ye calm, while I pronounce a Moor's curse on Spain.

ness more threatening than the waters under which they groan. From their summit is projected, with incalculable intensity, a silvery flood, in which the sun seems to dance like a fire-fly. Beneath, is a chasm of death; an anvil, upon which the ham-By the hands of wicked and cruel ones; mers of the cataract beat with unsparing and remorseless might; an abyss of wrath, where the heaviest damnation might find new torment, and howl unheard. We had now penetrated to the inmost A pillar of the precipice juts directly out into the sheet, and beyond it no human foot can step, but to immediate annihilation. The distance from the edge of the falls, to the rock which arrests our progress, is said to be forty-five feet, but I do They should wean my thoughts from the woes of "The days, which saw our martial deeds, are fled

recess.

not think this has ever been accurately as-
certained. The arch under which we pass-
ed, is evidently undergoing a rapid decay
at the bottom, while the top, unwasted, juts
out like the leaf of a table. Consequently
a fall must happen, and, judging from its ap-
pearance, may be expected every day; and
this is probably the only real danger in
going beneath the sheet. We passed to
our temporary home, through the valley
which skirts the upper stream, among gilded
elouds and rainbows and wild flowers, and
felt that we had experienced a consumma-
tion of curiosity; that we had looked upon
that, than which earth could offer nothing
to the eye or heart of man more awful or
more magnificent.
O. W.

POETRY.

RIZPAH.

And he delivered them into the hands of the Gibeonites, and they hanged them in the hill before the Lord; and they fell all seven together, and were put to death in the days of harvest, in the first days, in the beginning of barley-harvest.

And Rizpah, the daughter of Aiah, took sackcloth,
and spread it for her upon the rock, from the begin-
ning of harvest until the water dropped upon them
out of heaven, and suffered neither the birds of the
air to rest on them by day, nor the beasts of the
field by night.
2 Samuel, xxi. 9, 10.

Hear what the desolate Rizpah said,
As on Gibeah's rocks she watched the dead.
The sons of Michel before her lay,

And her own fair children, dearer than they:
By a death of shame they all had died,

And were stretched on the bare rock, side by side.
And Rizpah, once the loveliest of all

That bloomed and smiled in the court of Saul,
All wasted with watching and famine now,
And scorched by the sun her haggard brow,
Sat, mournfully guarding their corpses there,
And murmured a strange and solemn air;
The low, heart-broken, and wailing strain
Of a mother that mourns her children slain.

I have made the crags my home, and spread
On their desert backs my sackcloth bed;
I have eaten the bitter herb of the rocks,
And drank the midnight dew in my locks;
I have wept till I could not weep, and the pain
Of my burning eyeballs went to my brain.
Seven blackened corpses before me lie,
In the blaze of the sun and the winds of the sky.
I have watched them through the burning day,
And driven the vulture and raven away;
And the cormorant wheeled in circles round,

But I hoped that the cottage roof would be
And that while they ripened to manhood fast,
A safe retreat for my sons and me;

the past.

side,

And my bosom swelled with a mother's pride,
As they stood in their beauty and strength by my
of his stately form, and the bloom of his face.
Tall like their sire, with the princely grace

Oh, what an hour for a mother's heart,
When the pitiless ruffians tore us apart!
When I clasped their knees and wept and prayed,
And struggled and shrieked to heaven for aid,
Till the murderers loosed my hold at length,
And clung to my sons with desperate strength,
And bore me breathless and faint aside,
In their iron arms, while my children died.
They died-and the mother that gave them birth
Is forbid to cover their bones with earth.

The barley harvest was nodding white,
When my children died on the rocky height,
And the reapers were singing on hill and plain,
When I came to my task of sorrow and pain.
But now the season of rain is nigh,
The sun is dim in the thickening sky,
And the clouds in sullen darkness rest,
When he hides his light at the doors of the west.
I hear the howl of the wind that brings
The long drear storm on its heavy wings;
But the howling wind, and the driving rain
Will beat on my houseless head in vain:
I shall stay, from my murdered sons to scare
The beasts of the desert, and fowls of the air.

B.

"Thou did'st bow, Spain, for ages, beneath a Moorish yoke,

And save Asturia's mountain sons, there were none to strike a stroke;

On mountain top and lowland plain, thy fate was still the same,

Thy soldiers drew dull scymitars, and the crescent

overcame.

to come no more;

A warrior monarch rules thee now, and we give the battle o'er;

Abencarrage wakes not, when the battle trumpets

call,

That magic can invoke no fiend, worse than thy kings will be.

"And that blind faith, thou holdest from the Prophet of the Cross,

A faith thy children have profaned, and its better doctrines lost;

By the lords that faith shall give thee, not less shalt thou be gored,

Because they grasp a crucifix, instead of spear and sword.

'Bright eyes are in thy land, Spain, and thy virgins
But thou art cursed to know no truth in either
want no charms,
heart or arms;

Their bosoms shall no pillow be, for aught is kind
or brave,

But lull in mere illicit love, the sensual priest and slave.

"Thy sway shall reach to distant lands, shall yield thee gold and gem,

But a burning and a bloody sword, shall thy sceptre be o'er them,

Till vengeance meet the murderous bands, from

And give them of the land they seek,—

thine accursed shore,

clotted gore."

-a grave of

The Guadalquiver's banks shall be divested of
The castles of our valiant race deck no more the
their pride,
mountain side,

And Ruin's mouldering hand shall sweep to Spain's

remotest shore,

And all her fertile regions weep the exile of the

Moor.

J.

We do assure friend J. that his rhymes are very acceptable to us, and, we doubt not, will be so to the public; wherefore we will thank him for all he may choose to send. ED.