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by the way, he must have had,) are described in the beautiful similitudes of Dante, as hastening to the boat

Like autumn foliage dropping to the ground,

Or falcons stooping to the fowler's call.* Again, at verse 124, Virgil says that these · lazy' souls, who, like asses at a ferry, must, it seems, be beaten with an oar to make them move, are always eager to get over; because, to use the poet's own strong language,

The justice of their Judge so pricks them on,

That fear is lost in longing. Surely, such a commentary has no need of comment. The following is the explanation I would offer. Charon, says the poet,

With eyes of fire, and guiding glance and sign

Gathers them all together. With what sign?—The answer,

one would think was obvious enough: the 'grim ferryman' batte col remo;-strikes with hisoar,--and then-qualunque s' adagia-each one takes his seat in Charon's barque,f and that willingly, and even eagerly; because in the words of Dante, above translated,

La divina giustizia gli sprona
Sì che la tema si volge in disio.

L. da Ponte.


From the German of Schiller.
Take ye the world, cried Jove from heaven's far height

To mortals :-take all things to keep, or spend ;
I give them for your heritance and right,

But share them all, as loving friend with friend.

* Come d'autunno si levan le foglie

L'una appresso dell'altra, infin che 'l ramo
Rende alla terra tutte le sue spoglie ;
Similemente il mal seme d' Adamo

Gittansi di quel lito ad una ad una

Per cenni, com'augel per suo richiamo. + This is certainly one of the significations of adagiarsi, which means not only to walk adagio or slowly, but to sit a suo agio-at one's ease-in a convenient or reclining posture. This is, in all probability, the meaning of the word as it occurs in Petrarch. Part I. CANZON, v. St. iii. vers. 10.

Il Pastor &c.-
Ivi senza pensier s'adagia e dorme.

To seize his part, in busy haste, uprose

Both young and old, whoever had but hands; The hunter through the forest lordly goes,

The farmer claims the produce of the lands. The merchant with rich wares his houses loads,

The abbot takes the generous old wine, The king bars up the bridges and the roads,

And loud proclaims- A tithe of all is mine. At last, when the division all was o’er,

From some far-distant spot the poet came; He came too late! for there was nothing more;

A jealous owner rose each gift to claim. Alas! alas! Shall I then, I of all

Thy truest offspring, be forgot alone ? Thus to the God did he complaining call,

And threw himself before Jove's awful throne. If in the land of dreams thou would'st delay,

Replied the God, then quarrel not with me; Where wast thou when the world was given away?

I was, replied the gentle bard, with thee. Mine eye hung dazzled on thy features bright,

Mine ear upon thy heavens' sweet harmonies ;
Forgive the soul, that blinded with thy light,

Lost all on earth, to revel in the skies.
What shall I do? says Jove; I've nought to give,

The harvest, market, chase, no more are mine ;
But dost thou wish with me in heaven to live,

Come when thou wilt, my home, that heaven, is thine.



LONDON, May 13th, 1825. I believe it will give you some pleasure to hear of my safe arrival in this place. I had a pleasant and quick passage of twenty-four days to this city; from New York to Havre, in twenty-three days. I have visited, since here, the royal exhibition at Somerset House several times. I am much gratified with the pictures, particularly with Turner's painting of the Harbor of Dieppe, which I shall not attempt, because I am not able to describe. There are some sea-beach scenes, by Col. lins, who is an exceedingly clever artist, and finishes with much beauty and truth. He does not possess as much power as Turner, but his finish is better. In History there is Hilton who stands first. He has a picture representing Christ crucified, and with thorns, which is wonderfully fine, and would do credit to any age.

It was purchased by the British Institution, for 1000 Guineas. A picture representing a combat between two men, one of whom has had his sword broken, and is struck down on his knees, but still struggling, and a female endeavouring to save his life, is a very beautiful thing, in the Venetian style of coloring; and was painted by Mr. Etty. The deliverance of the children of Israel from the Egyptian host, who are overwhelmed by the sea, is a painting of true epic character, by Danby. In the cabinet line of painting, Messrs. Wilkie and Leslie stand unrivalled, although there are many respectable painters in that line. They have only one picture each. Mr. Leslie's is a scene from Shakspeare-Master Slender, assisted by Shallow, courting Anne Page; for character, coloring and expression, it is really admirable. Indeed, Leslie is near the top, and will soon be up. Mr. Wilkie's picture represents a Highland Family., I will merely say, that it is every way worthy of him. In animals, Mr. Ward has the reputation of being first; but, in my opinion, Landseer, son of the engraver by that name, is the best. Landseer finishes with a fine, delicate, yet decided pencil. Mr. Ward paints his pictures unnecessarily rough. The effect is forcible and fine, if the spectator can get at sufficient distance; but speaking distance will not answer. I think that the paintings of the English School are unnecessarily coarse without justification in the result. Of most of the works of the English Painters, we may say, “'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view." I have seen some real Claudes, and do not find the British artists justified in their abuse of colours by that master, or by Titian or Rubens. In portrait Sir T. Lawrence is prodigious; his painting is poetry. There are many very fine painters in the portrait line: Sir William Beachy for instance, Jackson, Philips, Shee, Pekersgill, and some others who excel, besides a host of indifferent painters of the human face divine. The society of water-colour painters have an exhibition, and I was astonished to find to what perfection that branch of painting has been carried. It almost rivals oil pictures, of every subject, simple or complex; is equally as well managed, and that with a freedom too, which I supposed belonged only to oil colours. I am certain, however, that there is much trick in producing effects in water painting.

I have visited many collections of a public character, but have not seen any private collections. I find it difficult to get sight of them, not being of the privileged order. I shall go to Paris next week to spend some time; how long I know not ; it will depend on the facilities I may find to acquire knowledge in my profession. I have seen some prints by Woollet, but they are scarce, and difficult to be obtained.

Yours, &c.

Wild birds, wild birds ! ye rejoice mine eye,
For ye tell that the rose-wreathed Spring is nigh,
And your warblings fall on my charmed ear
Like the wafted notes of some happier sphere,
Where all beneath, around, above,
Is breathing of peace, and joy, and love.
Wild birds ! ye come in the year's young prime,
That “greenest spot” on the waste of time;
And when, in the bloom of our summer bowers,
Ye have sported away the sunny hours,
It is but to lift the light wing, and away!
To a milder clime, and a brighter day.
So, from the clouds of earth and time,
Be it ours to pass to that better clime,
Where night never gathers, and storms never blight,
For God and the Lamb are its joy and light-
Who, from that bosom of boundless bliss,
Would return, wild birds! to a world like this?



I stand upon my native hills again,

Broad, round, and green, that in the southern sky,
With garniture of waving grass and grain,

Orchards and beechen forests, basking lie ;
While deep the sunless glens are scooped between,
Where brawl o'er shallow beds the streams unseen.
A lisping voice and glancing eyes are near,

And ever-restless steps of one who now
Gathers the blossoms of her fourth bright year.

There plays a gladness o'er her fair young brow
VOL. ).


As breaks the varied scene upon her sight,
Upheaved and spread in verdure and in light.
For I have taught her with delighted eye,

To gaze upon the mountains—to behold
With deep affection, the pure ample sky,

And clouds along its blue abysses rolled;
To love the song of waters, and to hear
The melody of winds with charmed ear.
Here I am scaped the city's stifling heat,

Its horrid sounds and its polluted air ;
And, where the season's milder fervors beat,

And gales, that sweep the forest borders, bear
The song of bird, and sound of running stream,
Am come awhile to wander and to dream.
Ay, flame thy fiercest-sun!-thou canst not wake

In this pure air, the plague that walks unseen;
The maize leaf and the maple bough but take

From thy fierce heats a deeper glossier green ;
The mountain wind, that faints not in thy ray,
Sweeps the blue steams of pestilence away.
The mountain wind-most spiritual thing of all

The wide earth knows—when, in the sultry time,
He stoops him from his vast cerulean hall,

He seems the breath of a celestial clime;
As if from heaven's wide-opened gates did flow
Health and refreshment on the world below.



Arts, Science, and Philosophy. Lectures on Geology; being Outlines of the Science ; delivered in the New-York Atheneum in the year 1825. By Jer. Van Rensselaer, M. D. Associate, and Lecturer on Geology to the Atheneum ; Member of the Royal Medical Society, Edinburgh ; Corresponding Member of the Royal Academy of Sciences, Naples ; of the Linnean Society-of the Society of Encouragement, and of the Medico-physical Society, Paris; Director of the American Academy of Fine Arts; Corresponding Secretary of the Lyceum of Natural History, and of the New-York Horticultural Society-Secretary of the Literary and Philosophical Society, and Member of the Historical Society, New-York; Member of the Society of Natural History, Leipzic—of the Society for Promotion of Arts, and Correspondent of the Lyceum, Albany. 8vo. pp. 358. New-York. E. Bliss & E. White.

A Catalogue of American Minerals, with their Localities, including all which are known to exist in the United States and British Provinces,

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