*

*

*

(To be continued.)

*

For the Southern Literary Messenger.
JOSEPHINE.

Suggested by a Scene in the Memoirs of the Empress Josephine.
In sorrow's stern and settled gloom,
The father sat--the silent tomb
Enclosed his earthly joy and pride;
His son, his only son had died.
His bosom heaved no natural sighs-
No tears relieved his burning eyes;
Alive to love's sweet voice no more,
The look of dark despair he wore:
Unmoved and hopeless, heeding not
Soft words of comfort, he forgot
That yet a source of joy remained--
That earth a blessing still contained.
Fair Buonaparte the mourner sought,
By pure maternal feelings taught--
Saw with an angel's pitying eye
His deep and hopeless agony.
She led, in all her beauty's pride,
His blooming daughter to his side ;
To her kind heart his babe she press'd,
And kneeling thus before Decrest,
Seemed a bright spirit from above
Sent on some embassy of love.
Surprised and startled at the view,
Across his brow his hand he drew,
While tears, the balmy dew of grief,
Gave to his bursting heart relief--
And conscious, once again he blessed,
And clasped his children to his breast.

were trying experiments upon a quart glass of genuine hour when men sit down to that nourishment they ice-crowned mint julep; and judging from the rapid fall call supper." I went to my apartment, all desolate and of the fluid in the vessel which contained it, I thought fireless as it was, to prepare for the Ball. that their experiments were likely to prove very successful. Unhappy me, that I was unable to participate in any of these conversational or bibaceous enjoyments! “I will not despair," thought 1 to myself, as between the hours of eleven and twelve the elements had ceased their strife, and a few spots of azure were already visible in the clouded vault. Presently the monarch of day himself peeped out from behind the black curtain which had hidden his shining countenance. I looked out and saw multitudes hastening to the Spring. This, said I, is the grand climacteric of my happiness!-now will I revel in the joys of that ambrosial fount which will console me for the sorrows of disappointment. The statue of the Nymph Hygeia* which surmounted the dome of the Spring house, looked more white and beautiful, as refreshed by the morning's shower bath she reflected the beams of her venerable grandsire.† Down I went to the Spring-and whilst the throng which pre ceded me were eagerly quaffing the delicious beverage, I had leisure to survey their countenances and to gather materials for reflection. It was evident that upon the pallid cheeks of some, wasting consumption had fixed her fatal seal. Others bore the jaundiced and cadaverous marks of obstructed bile. A few were the hobbling victims of hereditary or acquired gout, and were either suffering for the sour grapes which their fathers devoured, or paying the penalties of their own luxurious indulgence. By far the greater portion however had the ruddy complexions and smiling countenances of health. "Wonderful elixir!" said I to myself--" incomparable panacea! which not only cures all diseases, but is even beneficial to health itself." I hastened to dip my glass in the flowing nectar, and realize my fond anticipations. Alas! alas! the saying of the wise man of Greece rushed upon my memory-"Desire nothing too much!" My dream of bliss was suddenly dispelled! Instead of nectar, I smelt and tasted a mixture of brimstone and eggs in a state of putrescency! What an extinguisher to my air-built hopes and delusive fancies! And is it for this, I exclaimed within myself, that hundreds and thousands toil up craggy precipices and swelter under August suns? Is it worth eight dollars per week to partake of this "villainous compound?" Must we sacrifice home and comfort, and real enjoyment, in order to sacrifice also to this heathen block which sits upon the top of the dome? Reason, prudence and common sense forbid it! I left the Spring with a degree of disappointment bordering upon despair! In the fulness of time the dinner bell tolled. It was indeed the knell of sorrow rather than the merry peal which invites to innocent enjoyment. Shall I describe that dinner?-no, not for a thousand dinners, "with all their appliances and means to boot;"

'I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
Whom you all know are honorable men."

Neither will I describe what occurred "about the sixth

*The gift of Mr. Henderson, a wealthy gentleman of New Orleans.

Hygeia was the daughter of Esculapius, and was granddaughter of Apollo or the Sun.

Yes, Josephine-twas thine to feel
The joys of sympathy--to heal
The wounded heart,-while he whose fate
Heaven linked with thine, was called the great,
Thine was true greatness of the soul,
Swayed by pure virtue's soft control:
Patient in sorrow--meek in power--
Beloved e'en to thy latest hour-

Thou hadst a bliss he could not know,-
Thou ne'er hadst caused a tear to flow.*
While victory's wreath his temples bound,
Thou wast with brighter honors crowned;
For by the poor thy name was blessed,
And thy sweet influence confessed
By him whose proud, ambitious mind,
Scarce earth's vast empire had confined.
Thou wast his solacer in care,
His triumphs thou didst fondly share-
And even when exiled from his throne,
Thy faithful heart was all his own.
A happier lot than his was thine!
Brighter thy name on Mem'ry's shrine!--
Whilst blood-stained laurels o'er him wave,
Love placed the marble on thy grave!† E. A. S.

In her last hours she said, that "she had never caused a

Mr. Henderson's White Lady was no doubt a liberal dona-single tear to flow." ion; but alas! it is nothing but a block of painted wood.

Her tomb was erected by her children.

of Mephistopheles, it would only be necessary to spread | paid a hundred pounds a night, and is allowed two
before our readers the scene of the Incantation in the benefits in the season which generally average a thou-
Hartz. It is replete with imagination of the most ethe-sand pounds each. While you are thus liberal to a
dancer, some of the worthiest of your ministers of reli-
rial kind is written with a glow and melody of lan-gion receive about fifty pounds per annum for wearing
guage altogether inimitable—and bears upon every sen- out their lives for the good of your souls; and many of
tence the impress of genius. It will be found a season- your most exalted men of genius are left to starve. Such
able relief from the mingled coxcombry, pedantry, and is the consistency of human nature.'”
gall which make up the body of the book. But we will
confine ourselves at present to an extract of a far differ-
ent nature, as affording a better exemplification of what
we have previously said.

ance.

deserves.

The District School, or National Education, by J. Orville Taylor. Third Edition. Philadelphia: Carcy Lea & Blanchard. This work has met with universal appro"Between the acts the curtain rose for a divertisement, bation, and is worthy of it. The book was first pubin which the incomparable Taglioni made her appear-lished only a short time ago, and the third impression She was greeted with the loudest demonstrations will speedily be exhausted, as parents have a direct of popularity from her numerous patrons, which she acknowledged by several graceful courtesies. Behold! personal concern in the matter, and in the important said Mephistopheles, directing my attention to the evo-truths, duties, and responsibilities, herein pointed out. lutions of the dancer, the progress of civilization. If all Mr. Taylor is entitled to the gratitude of his countrythis were not so graceful it would be indecent, and that men for that beneficial impulse which his work has been, such an exhibition has a moral tendency is more than and will be the means of giving to the great cause of doubtful. Look at that young girl in the pit. She has General Education. "If a parent," says Mr. Taylor, seen sufficient to crimson her face, neck, and shoulders does not educate his child-the world will." We sinwith a blush of shame, and she hides her head from a sight which has shocked her sense of decency. There cerely hope so. As the District School now appears it is no affectation there. She is an innocent girl fresh has been entirely re-written, and such alterations and from the country who never saw a ballet in her life. additions made as the experience of the author suggestYet all the rest, man, woman and child, gaze on de-ed. We heartily wish it all the success it so eminently lighted. Every glass is raised the more closely to watch the motions of the figurante. Look!-she makes a succession of vaults, and her scanty drapery flying above her hips discloses to her enraptured admirers the beauty The New England Magazine for September is unusuof her limbs. A thousand hands beat each other in approbation. Now she pirouettes, and observe the tumultally rich. Among its numerous and very excellent arof applause which follows. She stands on her left foot, ticles we would particularly notice a paper called "My on the point of her great toe nail, extending her right | Journal"—and more especially Scraps of Philosophy leg until the top of her foot is in a parallel line with the and Criticism from a recent work of Victor Hugo's. crown of her head. In this position she bends with an One of these Scraps on Style, we are sure we shall be appearance of the greatest ease, till her body nearly touches the ground, and then gradually rises with the pardoned for extracting. same infinite grace amid enthusiastic bravos and ecsta- "If the name here inscribed were a name of note--if tic applause. Now on her tip-toe, her right leg still the voice which speaks here were a voice of power-we extended, she moves slowly round, liberally extending would entreat the young and brilliant talents on which to all her patrons within sight the most favorable oppor-depends the future lot of a literature for three ages so tunity of scrutinizing the graces of her figure, while the magnificent to reflect how important is their mission, whole house testify their infinite gratification at the and to preserve in their manner of writing the most sight by every species of applause. Again she comes worthy and severe habitudes. The Future-let them from the back of the stage, turning round and round think well of it-belongs only to the masters of style. with the speed of a tetotum but with an indescribable Without referring to the admirable works of antiquity, and fascinating grace that seems to turn the head of and confining ourselves to our National Literature, try every young man in the theatre. During the storm of to take from the thought of our great writers the expres approbation which ensues she stands near the footlights,sion which is peculiar to it. Take from Moliere his smiling, courtseying, and looking as modest as an angel. lively, ardent, frank, and amusing verse, so well made, Then comes Perrot, who is as much the idol of the ladies so well turned, so well finished-take from Lafontaine as Taglioni is the goddess of the gentlemen. He leaps the simple and honest perfection of detail-take from about as if his feet were made of India rubber, and spins the phrase of Corneille the vigorous muscle, the strong around as if he intended to bore a hole with his toe in cords, the beautiful forms of exaggerated vigor, which the floor of the stage. Then a little pantomime love would have made of the old poet half Roman, half Spabusiness takes place between the danseur and the dan-nish, the Michael Angelo of our tragedy if the elements seuse, and they twirl away, and glide along, and hold of genius had mingled as much fancy as thought-take eloquent discourse with their pliant limbs; and the af- from Racine that touch in his style which resembles fair ends by the gentleman clasping the lady round the Raphael, a touch chaste, harmonious, and repressed like waist, while he, bending his body in the most graceful that of Raphael, although of an inferior power-quite as attitude, so that his head shall come under her left arm, pure but less grand, as perfect though less sublimelooks up in apparent ecstacy into her smiling face as take from Fenelon, the man of his age who had the best the lady raised high above him on the extreme point of sentiment of antiquity, that prose as melodious and her left foot, extends her right hand at right angles with severe as the verse of Racine of which it is the sister-her body, and looks down admiringly upon her compa-take from Bossuet the magnificent bearing of his penion. Thus grouped the curtain drops, and every oneriods--take from Boileau his grave and sober manner cries bravo! thumps the floor with his stick, or beats his at times so admirably colored--take from Pascal that palms together till such a din is raised as is absolutely original and mathematical style with so much approdeafening.' priateness in the choice of words, and so much logic in "She is a charming dancer,' I observed. every metaphor--take from Voltaire that clear, solid, "Yes'-replied he-'she understands the philosophy and indestructible prose, that crystal prose of Candide, of her art better than any of her contemporaries: it is and the Philosophical Dictionary--take from all these to throw around sensuality such a coloring of refine-great writers that simple attraction-style: and of Volment as will divest it of its grossness. For this she is 'taire, of Pascal, of Boileau, of Bossuet, of Fenelon, of

Racine, of Corneille, of Lafontaine, of Moliere-of all | which the observation must have been made. As soon these masters what will remain? It is style which insures duration to the work, and fame to the poet. Beauty of expression embellishes beauty of thought, and preserves it. It is at the same time an ornament and an armor. Style to the idea is like enamel to the tooth."

as he perceived the flame, he applied over it both his hands open, united at their edges, and closely impacted upon and around the burning surface. These means were employed by Mr. H. for the purpose of extinguishing the flame by the exclusion of the contact of the atmosphere, which he knew was necessary to the continuance of every combustion. The result was in conformAs soon as the flame was extinguished, the pain began sensation usually the effect of a slight application of to abate in intensity, but still continued, and gave the heat or fire to the body, which induced him to seize his pantaloons with one of his hands and to pinch them up into a conical form over the injured part of the leg,

below. This operation was continued for a minute or two, with a design of extinguishing any combustion which might be present in the substance of his apparel, but which was not visible at the time. At the beginning of the accident, the sensation of injury was confined to a spot of small diameter, and in its progress the pain was still restricted to this spot, increasing in intensity and depth to a considerable extent, but without much if any enlargement of the surface which it occupied at the beginning. A warmth was felt to a considerable distance around the spot primarily affected, but the sensation did not by any means amount in degree to the feeling of pain. This latter sensation was almost, bounded the seat of the first attack, and this sensation if not entirely confined to the narrow limits which was no otherwise modified during the progress of the accident, than by its increasing intensity and deeper penetration into the muscles of the limb, which at its greatest degree seemed to sink an inch or more into the substance of the leg.

The Western Journal of the Medical and Physical Sciences,ity with the design, for the flame immediately went out. edited by Daniel Drake, M. D. Professor of the Theory and Practice of Medicine in Cincinnati College, and formerly Professor of the same in Transylvania University, and the Jefferson Medical College. Doctors C. R. Cooper and S. Reed, Assistant Editors and Proprietors. Vol. IX, No. 33. We have received this Journal with the greatest plea-thereby to remove them from any contact with the skin sure, and avail ourselves of the present opportunity to express our opinion concerning it. It is an invaluable addition to our Medical and Scientific Literature, and at the same time one of the very cheapest publications in the country, each number containing 168 pages of closely printed matter, and the subscription price being only $3 per annum. The work is issued on the first day of July, October, January, and April, and has lately been incorporated with the Western Medical Gazette. We sincerely wish the publication every possible success-for it is well worthy of it. Its typographical and mechanical execution altogether are highly creditable to Cincinnati, and the able and well known collaborators, a list of whose names is upon the opening page of each number, and whose editorial offices are engaged in the service of the Journal, will not fail to impart a sterling character and value to the Medical, as well as purely Literary portions of the work. We take the liberty of extracting from page 79, of the present number, (that for July) an interesting account of a cure of partial spontaneous combustion, occurring in the person of Professor H. of the University of Nashville. The portion extracted is contained in a Review of An Essay on Spontaneous Combustion, read before the Medical Society in the State of Tennessee, at their annual meeting in May 1835. By James Overton, M. D. "Prof. H., of the University of Nashville, is a gentleman 35 years old, of middle size, light hair, hazle eyes, and sanguinolymphatic temperament; he has been extremely temperate as to alcoholic stimulation of every kind; led a sedentary and studious life; and been subject to a great variety of dyspeptic affections. On the 5th of January, 1835, he left his recitation room at 11 o'clock, A. M., and walked briskly, with his surtout "His drawers, composed of silk and wool, immedibuttoned round him, to his residence, three quarters of ately over the abraded skin, were burnt entirely through, a mile. The thermometer was at 8°, and the barome-but the scorching had not extended in the slightest deter at 29.248--the sky clear and calm. On reaching home he engaged in meteorological observations, and in 30 minutes, while in the open air about to record the direction of the winds-

"Believing the combustion to have been extinguished by the means just noticed, and the pain having greatly subsided, leaving only the feeling usually the effect of a slight burn, he untied and pulled up his pancondition of the part which had been the seat of his suftaloons and drawers, for the purpose of ascertaining the fering. He found a surface on the outer and upper part of the left leg, reaching from the femoral end of the fibula in an oblique direction, towards the upper portion of the grastrochnemi muscles, about three-fourths of an inch in width, and three inches in length, denuded of the scarfskin, and this membrane gathered into a roll at the lower edge of the abraded surface. The injury resembled very exactly in appearance an abrasion of the skin of like extent and depth, often the effect of slight mechanical violence, except that the surface of it was extremely dry, and had a complexion more livid than that of wounds of a similar extent produced by the action of mechanical causes.' pp. 25-26.

gree beyond. The pantaloons, made of broadcloth, were uninjured; but over the affected spot, the extremities of the wool were tinged with a kind of dark, yellowish matter, which could be easily scraped off with a knife.

"He felt a pain as if produced by the pulling of a hair, on the left leg, and which amounted in degree to a "Considering the injury not to be of a serious chastrong sensation. Upon applying his hand to the spot racter, Mr. H. bestowed upon its treatment no particu pained, the sensation suddenly increased, till it amount-lar care or attention, but pursued his usual avocations ed in intensity to a feeling resembling the continued within doors and in the open air, which was very cold, sting of a wasp or hornet. He then began to slap the until the evening of the succeeding day. At this time part by repeated strokes with the open hand, during the wound became inflamed and painful, and was dresswhich time the pain continued to increase in intensity, ed with a salve, into the composition of which the rosin so that he was forced to cry out from the severity of his of turpentine entered in considerable proportion. This suffering. Directing his eyes at this moment to the treatment was continued for four or five days, during suffering part, he distinctly saw a light flame of the ex- which time the wound presented the usual aspect of a tent, at its base, of a ten cent piece of coin, and having burn from ordinary causes, except in its greater depth a complexion which nearest resembles that of pure quick-and more tardy progress towards cicatrization, which silver. Of the accuracy in this latter feature in the ap-did not take place till after thirty-two days from the pearance of the flame, Mr. H. is very confident, not-date of the infliction of the injury. The part of the withstanding the unfavorable circumstances amidst ulcer which healed last was the point of inception and

intensity of the pain at the time of attack, and which terrible spirit of predestination, sometimes mellowed point was evidently the seat of deeper injury than any down towards the catastrophe of their dramas into the other portion of the wounded surface. About the fifth

day after the accident, a physician was requested to unseen, yet not unfelt hand of a kind Providence, or take change of the treatment, and the remedies employ-overruling God, becomes in the handling of Euripides ed were such chiefly, as are usual in the treatment of the mere blindness of accident, or the capriciousness o burns from other causes, except that twice a week the chance. He thus loses innumerable opportunities-opsurface of the ulcer was sprinkled over with calomel, portunities which his great rivals have used to so good and a dressing of simple cerate applied above it. In an effect of giving a preternatural and ideal elevation the space between the wound and the groin there was a considerable soreness of the integuments to the touch, to moral fortitude in the person of his heroes, by means which continued during the greatest violence of the ef- of opposing them in a perpetual warfare with the arbifects of the accident, and then gradually subsided. The trations and terrors of Destiny. cicatrix is at this time, March 24th, entire; but the surface is unusually scabrous, and has a much more livid aspect than that of similar scars left after the infliction of burns from common causes. The dermis seemed to have been less perfectly regenerated than is usual from burns produced by ordinary means, and the circulation through the part is manifestly impeded, apparently in consequence of atony of its vessels, to an extent far beyond any thing of a similar nature to be observed after common burns.'" pp. 27-28.

The Classical Family Library. Numbers XV, XVI, and XVII. Euripides translated by the Reverend R. Potter, Prebendary of Norwich. Harper & Brothers, New York. These three volumes embrace the whole of Euripides Eschylus and Sophocles having already been published in the Library. A hasty glance at the work will not enable us to speak positively in regard to the value of these translations. The name of Potter, however, is one of high authority, and we have no reason to suspect that he has not executed his task as well as any man

Again; the Chorus, which appears never to have been thoroughly understood by the moderns-the Chorus of Euripides is not, alas! the Chorus of his predecessors. That this singular, or at least apparently singular feature, in the Greek drama, was intended for the mere purpose of preventing the stage from being, at any moment entirely empty, has been an opinion very generally, and very unaccountably received. The Chorus was not, at any time, upon the stage. Its general station was in the orchestra, in which it also performed the solemn dances, and walked to and fro during the station was upon the thymele, an elevation somewhat choral songs. And when it did not sing, its proper raised as high as the stage, and opposite to the scenelike an altar, but with steps, in front of the orchestra, being also in the very centre of the entire theatre, and serving as a point around which the semi-circle of the amphitheatre was described. Most critics, however, fluous and absurd, urging the folly of enacting passages have merely laughed at the Chorus as something supersupposed to be performed in secret in the presence of in the infancy of the art, it was continued merely an assembled crowd, and believing that as it originated through caprice or accident. Sophocles, however, wrote a treatise on the Chorus, and assigned his reasons for and what we certainly should not believe if he did. At persisting in the practice. Aristotle says little about it, all events, it must be a subject of general congratula- and that little affords no clew to its actual meaning or tion, that in the present day, for a sum little exceeding purpose. Horace considers it "a general expression of three dollars, any lover of the classics may possess him-moral participation, instruction, and admonition ;" and self of complete versions of the three greatest among the

living could have done it. But that these, or that any poetic versions can convey to the mind of the merely

general reader the most remote conception of either the manner, the spirit, or the meaning of the Greek dramatists, is what Mr. Potter does not intend us to believe,

ancient Greek writers of tragedy.

Ardent admirers af Hellenic Literature, we have still no passion for Euripides. Truly great when compared with many of the moderns, he falls immeasurably below his immediate predecessors. "He is admirable," says a German critic, "where the object calls chiefly for emotion, and requires the display of no higher qualities; and he is still more so where pathos and moral beauty are united. Few of his pieces are without particular passages of the most overpowering beauty. It is by no means my intention to deny him the possession of the most astonishing talents: I have only stated that these

talents were not united with a mind in which the austerity of moral principle, and the sanctity of religious feelings were held in the highest honor."

ance.

this opinion, which is evidently just, has been adopted and commented upon, at some length, by Schlegel. Publicity among the Greeks, with their republican habits and modes of thinking, was considered absolutely essential to all actions of dignity or importand was thus made to display a spirit of conscious inTheir dramatic poetry imbibed the sentiment, dependence. The Chorus served to give verisimilitude tator. It stood in lieu of the national spirit, and representto the dramatic action, and was, in a word, the ideal speced the general participation of the human race, in the events going forward upon the stage. This was its most extended, and most proper object; but it had others of a less elevated nature, and more nearly in accordance with the spirit of our own melo-drama.

But the Chorus of Euripides was not the true and unadulterated Chorus of the purer Greek tragedy. It is even more than probable that he did never rightly ap

The life, essence, and characteristic qualities of the ancient Greek drama may be found in three things. First, in the ruling idea of Destiny or Fate. Secondly,preciate its full excellence and power, or give it any in the Chorus. Thirdly, in Ideality. But in Euripides we behold only the decline and fall of that drama, and the three prevailing features we have mentioned are in him barely distinguishable, or to be seen only in their perversion. What, for example is, with Sophocles, and still more especially with Eschylus, the obscure and

portion of his serious attention. He made no scruple of admitting the parabasis into his tragedies*—a license which although well suited to the spirit of comedy, was entirely out of place, and must have had a ludicrous ef

The parabasis was the privilege granted the Chorus of addressing the spectators in its own person.