Imágenes de páginas


greater has been our pleasure ; even as a child, the air, producing tranquillity of soul,whose eye tracks the sun-set across the sea, joined with the pleasure of looking on new and believes that the trailing pathway of gold

scenes, plants, and birds. The disinterends only on the threshold of heaven. 6. The soleinn woods have to us seemed like

ested zeal and humanity of the inhabitants the great cathedrals which God himself had are eloquently described. When St. Preux erected, as if a holier religion reigned there approaches any hamlet towards evening, than was ever found beneath the towering the inhabitants are eager to entertain and fabrics erected by the hand of man. The deep lodge him in their houses, and he to whom the roaring of the winds had a sound to us unlike preference is given was always well pleasaught earthly; the rustling of the leaves in ed. They would receive no pay, and were prayer; we felt not the same while in the midst offended when it was proffered. “The same of such shadowy scenery. The pillars hewn simplicity exists among themselves : when and carved, and upreared by mortal hands, look the children are once arrived at maturity, not so grand and reverential as an aisle of an all distinction between them and their pacient oaks, tossing their gnarled boughs above rents seems to have ceased ; their domesour heads, and admitting through the massy tics are seated at the same table with their roof partial openings of the sky. The organ masters ; the same liberty reigns in the cotnever fell upon our ears with the same solemnity as the roar of the ocean, beating upon a tage as in the republic, and each family is an solitary shore. Between the walls of high and epitome of the state.' • Ils en usent entre lofty mountains we have felt an inward awe, eux avec la même simplicité : les enfants en which the vaulted abbey could never awaken; age de raison sont les égaux de leurs pères : for over the one hung the great image of the les domestiques s'asseyent à table avec leur Creator, above the other, the builder man. " Ruins only approach the sublime when they sons et dans la republique, et la famille est

maitres; la même liberté regne dans les maiare gray and vast, and time has erased their listory. To us the Pyramids would not con

l'image de l'état." No wonder that Julia in vey such images of mysterious and melancholy her reply to this eloquent epistle exclaims : grandeur as the naked and rugged pile of “La relation de votre voyage est charmante; Stonehenge. The untraceable Past having long elle me feroit aimer celui qui l'a écrite quand since claimed it for his own, and handed it to

bien méme je ne le connoitrois pas.” Eternity, it seems tinged with the first sunshine which broke upon the world, and may fine breathing landscape, and the portrait

There is also a beautiful picture of a catch the last ray which may settle down upon the earth, ere the night of eternal silence and of a happy man, where Werter is repredarkness descends upon it.”

sented sitting beneath some lime trees,

which spread their branches over a little Some of Miller's glowing descriptions green in front of a church, where he has a of scenery, of rustic and hearty characters, fine view of the country, and is surrounded his admiration

by cottages and barns, and an old woman Of their old piety and of their glee,” (Keats,) cakes. Here Werter sits and reads Homer. *

lives close by, who sells wine, coffee and remind us at times of Rousseau. The wanderings of St. Preux in the Pays de Vaud, as described in the twenty-third It is rather strange that we have no version, in letter of the New Héloïse, are delicious. English, of the “ Surrous of Werler," direct from

the German. The English one, in common use, is We behold him at one time enveloped in a a translation from the French. We have now before drizzling cloud arising from a torrent thun us a French translation printed at Maestricht in

1776. It contains two pictures; one represents Chardering against the rocks at his feet; we

lotte culing off slices of bread and buller for the gaze on yawning abysses, gloomy woods, children, and the other is a view of Werter's room.

In the last letter of this work occurs the following suddenly opening on flowery plains,-

aflecting passage. We copy from the French:“Quand blending of the wild and cultivated,—hor- dans une belle soirée d'élé, lu te promeneras vers rid caverns, vineyards and cornfields among la montagne, ressouviens toi de moi; rappelle toi cliffs and precipices,—where are united leve les yeux vers la cimetière qui renferme ma almost all seasons in the same instant, tombe, ei vois aux derniers rayons du soleil com. every climate in the same spot; the tops la couvre. J'étois tranquille en commençant ma

me le vent du soir fait ondoyer l'herbe haute qui of the mountains are variously illuminated, lettre, mais en me retraçant vivement tous ces oba mixture of light and shade,—the thun- | jets, voilà que je pleure comme un enfant.” Now

for the English : “ When in a fine evening of sumder storms far below him,—the purity of mer you walk towards the mountains, think of me;



Rural Sketches, with twenty-three illus- to make several extracts, but must content trations, was published in London by Van ourselves with one. In commenting on Voorst in 1839. We wish that we had room Browne's Britannia's Pastorals, in a most

genial manner, he makes use of the followrecollect the times you have so often seen me come

ing remarks, which form a just criticism up from the valley ; raise your eyes to the church on his own writings :yard which contains my grave; and by the light of the departing sun, see how the evening breeze “ There is a green look about his pages; he waves over the high grass which grows over me! carries with him the true aroma of the green I was calmn when I began my letter; but the recollection of these scenes makes me weep like a

forests; his lines are mottled with rich mosses, child.”

and there is a gnarled ruggedness upon the A word or two about another translation. Leigh stems of his trees. His waters have a fresh Hunt in the Indicator, in some remarks on Laza- look and a flashing sound about them, and you rillo de Tormes, observes that the English version of the work is done with great tact and spirit, he

feel the fresh air play around you while you knows not by whom, but that it is worthy of De Foe.

read. His birds are the free denizens of the Lazarillo serves a blind beggar, who, to keep his fields, and they send their songs so life-like mug of common Spanish wine safe from the inroads through the covert that their music rings upon of Lazarillo, holds it in his own hands; but this

the ear, and you are carried away with their avails him nothing, for the cunning Lazarillo contrives to suck out some with a reed ; the beggar

sweet pipings. He heard the sky-lark sing in then, to prevent this, places his hand over it. Upon the blue dome of heaven before he transferred this his antagonist makes a hole near the bottom of its warblings to his pages, and inhaled the perthe mug, and fills it up with wax, and then taps it fume of the flowers he described; the roaring gently when he feels thirsty. Lazarillo tells his adventures himself.

of the trees was to him an old familiar sound; his soul was a rich storehouse for all that is

beautiful in Nature." “You won't accuse me any more I hope (cried I) of drinking your wine, after all the fine precautions you have taken to prevent it. To that he said not

We find a pleasantly written account of a word; but feeling all about the pot, he at last un Miller in a late English work, and transcribe luckily discovered the hole, which cunningly dis- it for the gratification of the reader :sembling at the time, he let me alone till next day at dinner, not dreaming, God knows, of the old

“I had read with considerable interest a man's malicious intention, but getting in between work entitled, “A Day in the Woods,' ing into my mouth the distilling dew, and pleasing by Thomas Miller, basket-maker,' and myself with the success of my own ingenuity, my felt not a little delighted with his vivid and ing up the hard but sweet pot with both wis hands graphic descriptions of rural and forest Hung it down again with all his force upon my face; scenery. Nothing so natural and fresh by the violence of which blow, imagining the house had appeared in our literature. Even had fallen upon my head, I lay sprawling without any sentiment or judgment, my forehead, nose and

Bloomfield failed to convey so happy an mouth gushing out with blood, and the latter full idea of country life as Miller.

One mornWe think that the above translation is from the ing I inquired his address, and determined French. We have an old translation with the title to call on Mr. Miller, trusting to the frankpage as follows: “Lazarillo de Tormes. Traduc ness and amiability which pervaded every con Nouvelle. A Paris, chez Claude Barbin au Palais, sur le Perron de la sainte Chapelle. page of his book, for his excuse of my inM.D.C.L.XXVIII. Avec Privilege due Roy.” troducing myself to him. I had a long avoir bù vostre vin, lui desois-je. Vous y avés mis walk down St. George's road, Southwark, bon ordre, Dieu merci. Il ne me dit mot, mais il on a dismal, drizzling November day--and tourna tant le pot de tous côtés il le lastonna si

that was no joke, as any one familiar with bien par tout, qu'il trouva malheureusement le trou. Il n'en fit pas semblant sur l'heure : mais le lende a foggy day, at that time of the

year, main sans le porter plus loin, comme j'eus ainsté London, can testify. After much inquiry mon pot, ne pensant à rien moins qu'à ce que le malicieux aveugle me gardoji, je me mis entre ses

I found out Elliot's Row, to which place jambes comme j'avois accoustumé. Tandis que ie I had been directed, and when I had asbeuvois, le visage en haut, et les yeux à demi fermés, l'aveugle enragé prit son tems pour se vanger

certained the group of houses in one of de moi, et levant à deux mains ce doux et cruel pot which the poet resided, I had great diffide terre, il me le déchargea sur le visage de toute culty in finding out the exact dwelling. sa force. En vérité le pauvre Lazare, qui ne sy. The very people who lived next door to me ravi, s'imagina dans ce moment que le plancher Miller did not know of such a person—allui tomboit sur le tête. Le coup de pot für si bien though half of literary London was ringing en mille pièces; il m'en entra quelquesunes bien with his praises, and crying him up as a avant dans le visage, qui me le balafrèrent en plu- newly found genius. Such is fame in the sieurs endroits, et me cassèrent les dents, qui me manquent encore aujourd'hui."

mighty metropolis !


At length, on inquiring at an humble, I found him out after much labor, and asked but neat looking domicile, I was told by him to write a poem for the forthcoming an interesting looking little girl, that her volume of the Offering. Miller told me father (the poet) resided there. I entered, that he was so poor then that he had not asked to see him, and presently he came pen, ink or paper; so he got some whitey down stairs. I introduced myself, told brown paper, in which sugar had been him I had read his works, which had de- wrapped, mixed up some soot with water lighted me by their truthfulness, and much for his ink, and then sat down—the back desired to see him before I left town. He of a bellows serving for a desk—and wrote very kindly shook me by the hand, and his well-known lines on an “Old Fountain.” after some agreeable chat, we made an These beautiful verses being completed, appointment to dine with each other, at a he sealed his letter with some moistened chop house in the Strand, the next day. bread for a wafer and forwarded them, with The story of his life which he told me on many hopes and fears, to the editor. the latter occasion was to the following They were immediately accepted, and Mr. effect:

Harrison forwarded the poet two guineas “ He was born on the borders of Sher- for them. I never had been so rich bewood Forest, where Robin Hood and his fore in my life,' said the basket-maker to merry men flourished in times of old.

me. 'I fancied some one might hear of From childhood (he was then about five my fortune and try to rob me of it; so, at or six and twenty) he had loved to wander night, I barred the door and went to bed, in the green woods and lanes, and uncon but did not sleep all night from delight and sciously his poetic sensibilities were thus fear.' Miller still, to his honor, continued fostered. His station in life was very hum the certain occupation of basket-making, ble, and at an early age he learned basket but he was noticed by many—among othmaking, by which occupation he earned a ers, by Lady Blessington, who sent for him, bare subsistence. He married early, and recommended his book, and did him subthe increasing wants of a family led him stantial service. Often,' said Miller, to try the experiment of publishing some have I been sitting in Lady Blessington's poems and sketches, but owing to want splendid drawing-room in the morning, of patronage, no benefit resulted to him. talking and laughing as familiarly as in the He at last determined to go to London- old house at home, and, on the same eventhat fancied paradise of young authors, ing, I might have been seen standing on that great reservoir of talent—too often Westminster bridge, between an applethe grave of genius. Thither he went, vender and a baked-potato merchant, vendleaving for the present his family behind, ing my baskets.' Miller now tried his hand and, alighting from the stage-coach, found at a novel, Royston Gower, which suchimself in the Strand—a stranger among cecded well, and then another, Fair Rosthousands, with just seven shillings and amond. He read diligently at the British sixpence in his pocket. He soon made Museum, and was perseveringly industrithe melancholy discovery that a stranger ous. Jordan took him by the hand, and in London, however great may be his tal he contributed a good deal to the Literary ents, stands but a poor chance of getting Gazette. He is, at the time I write, bimon without the assistance of some helping self a publisher in Newgate street, London. hand; so, to keep body and soul together

, Miller is rather below the middle height, he set to work making baskets. In this his face is round and rosy looking, and he occupation he continued some time, occa wears a profusion of light hair. He has a sionally sending some little contribution to strong Nottinghamshire dialect, and posthe periodicals. At length, fortune smiled sesses little or none of the awkwardness of on her patient wooer. One day, while he a . was engaged in bending osiers, he was surprised by a visit from Mr. W. H. Harrison, thing to say of Royston Gower, Henry II., Editor of the Friendship's Offering, an Godfrey Malvern, Jane Grey, etc.-Reader, English Annual. That gentleman had seen we have endeavored to give thee some idea one or two pieces of Miller's, and had been (however faint) of the genius of Thomas much struck with their originality. He Miller. We think that no one has written

ur. In a future number we shall have some

better on rural life and customs, and it was They cause us to love the lasting and true, not till lately, with but few exceptions, that in preference to that which is fleeting and this class of writings has been much culti- false. They walk the fields musing praise, vated. Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, and and find food for gratitude and admiration, Walton's Angler, had much of the spirit of from “ the cedar to the hyssop on the the green fields and woods. Then we had wall.” Their love is sincere. “This green Thomson, Cowper, Burns, and Words- flowery rock-built earth, the trees, the worth, and Keats. Leigh Hunt in all his mountains, rivers, many surrounding seas; books, especially “ The Months,” Miss that great, deep sea of azure that swims Mitford's “Our Village,” and “ Belford overhead, the winds sweeping through it Regis,” come over the mind like summer -the black cloud fashioning itself togethair filled with perfume, and the sweet er—now pouring out fire, now hail and music of country sounds gladdening to rain,” have from boyhood been viewed by the heart and filled with a cordial and Thomas Miller with wonder and delight, cheerful spirit. One can scarcely judge and deeply has he studied them. Many of the influence authors like these exercise of the oppressions of the English law he with their healthy, sweet, and innocent has attacked with “a free and wholesome strains. They see “religious meanings sharpness," and his bold and independent in the forms of nature,”

nature shines brightly through all his

writings. He is a noble instructor
“ Or in verse and music dress
Tales of rustic happiness."

“In the great church of Nature
Where God himself is Priest.”

G. F. D.


SCIENCE of a generous mind,
Precious use in thee I find :
Use, to show what honor feels,
And to hide what love conceals;
Use, to show the charm of living
And the joy of boundless giving,
Leaving givers doubly blest,
And receivers unoppressed ;
Opening fountains in the heart,
Healing anger's jealous smart.
Let me, though in humble speech,
Thy refined maxims teach.

Honor's every gift should be
Proof of Love's equality -
Haughty givers most oppress
When they most intend to bless,--
Vested gifts are made in vain,
They reap a curse who give to gain. -
Spirits grave and bosoms kind
Greatest joy in giving find,
When the gift is heart, or mind.

These thy founded maxims be,
Test of Love's equality.


The scenes and actors in the war of our the days of the opposition to the Stamp Revolution have been familiar to us from Act; and yet, for long years prior to that, boyhood. Bunker Hill, Lexington, Sara- the character of her population was detoga, and Valley Forge, are names which veloping, under the wise but severe dispenconvey distinct ideas to us of the heroic sation of an overruling Providence, to that achievements of our immediate ancestors; very point when it would successfully rewhile Gates, Schuyler, Putnam, Greene, sist that tyrannous enactment. The threeand a host of others no less patriotic, are and-thirty years which preceded the outwell known to us as household friends. break of 1774, were occupied by a generaWe have been acquainted with them long; tion worthy to be the fathers of those who we have seen the stage upon which they achieved our independence. They were acted their parts nobly; we ourselves, in the years of toil, of suffering, of undismayed the sense that they lived for posterity, have effort,of manly counsel, and fervent prayer, witnessed the characters which they as which made the men of the Revolution sumed, and have pronounced our verdict what they were. Patiently, but with a upon them. Though much is still to be firm resolution, ever planting itself deeper written, and doubtless well written, of the in the soul, “the fathers had eaten sour war of our Revolution, and of those who grapes, and the children's teeth were set achieved our independence, the day will on edge.” And it was not the Stamp Act, never come in which we or our children nor the Boston Port Bill, nor the levies of will better know those great souls, or more foreign troops, nor the haughty bearing of truly honor their imperishable renown. colonial governors, but the long and steady

But there are other pages of our history purpose of the British Parliament, mani. with which we are less acquainted. Back fested in the oppressive measures of forty of those days when we first emerged into years, which gave strength to the arm the world of nations, while we were but and indomitable purpose to the effort, “ in the gristle of our youth,” and not yet which contended for and won our indehardened into the bone of manhood, we, of pendence. the present age, seldom look. Content From among these fathers of the Revoluthat we achieved all that we demanded tion, the names of a few have descended when the days of our majority came, and to our own day, while those of others, no that not even the strength or discipline of less true-hearted, earnest and patriotic, our natural mother could hold us in dis have been well nigh lost in the crowded honorable tutelage, we forget the early current of subsequeut events. Of these culture which fitted us for mature action, latter, Col. Seth Pomeroy, whose name and the occasions which opened to us in stands at the head of this article, was no our minority the secret of our strength. mean representative. Fortuitously gainWe honor those who made us freemen, but ing possession of his manuscript writings, forget those who taught us to be men. a very small portion of which have ever Like the Olympian victor, we count our seen the light, it has appeared to us not years from the first crown we won, over undesirable to select a few of such as elulooking those which witnessed the frequent cidate contemporaneous and doubtful defeats, the constant struggles, the undis- events, and introducing them by a slight mayed reverses, and the unmitigated toil, notice of the writer, and the scenes which which prepared us for the conflict, and they chronicle, to usher them in this way finally gave us the victory.

before the public. The history of New England, in the Col. Pomeroy was a native and a resimind of the great mass of the present dent of Northampton, in Massachusetts generation, dates little farther back than Bay. He was descended from one of the

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