ERASTUS W. ELLSWORTH. [Born 1822.] ERASTUS W. ELLSWORTH was born in East | Windsor, Connecticut, in November, 1822. His father was at that time a merchant, doing business in New York, in which city our author passed his boyhood until 1833, when the family retired to a farm, in his native town, where they have ever since resided, He was graduated at Amherst College, in 1844, and soon after commenced the study of the law, but a predilection for natural philosophy induced the devotion of much of his time to experimental studies, chiefly relating to machinery and mechanical inventions, and in 1845 he took out two patents, one for a drawing or copying instrument, and the other for a device for making a syphon discharge a portion of its contents at the highest point, or curve, thus making it available | or elevating water or other fluids. Both these inventions are now in practical though not extensive use; and their reception led him to abandon his legal studies, and to enter an extensive foundry and machine shop, where he remainel, among tools and machinery, until he acquired a competent knowledge of the art and mystery of making steam-engines. If his profession is now demanded, he calls himself a machinist, but he has never since the completion of his novitiate given the trade much attention His first published poem, entitled "The Yan kee," appeared in 1849, and he has since been an occasional contributor to the literary journals. His best and longest poem, the finest structure in Eng lish verse from the suggestive materials furnished by the classical legend, is "Ariadne," originally printed in the "International Magazine" for 1852. It reminds us, in some passages, of "Comus,” but its peculiar merits as a specimen of poetical art are decided and conspicuous. In the spring of 1855 he published his first volume, containing not a complete collection, nor perhaps the best selection that might have been offered of his fugitive pieces, but such as exhibited in the most striking manner the variety of his tastes and talents. The leading poem is entitled “The Chimes,” the main idea of which is, that poets derive a portion of their inspiration from each others' songs, and for its illustration he pays Mr. LONGFELLOW a delicate compliment by imitating the melody of one of his beautiful productions. His success led to a ridi culous but offensively-stated charge of plagiarism. in one of the monthly magazines. Of Mr. ELLSWORTH's shorter poems one of the most thoughtful and impressive is, "What is the Use?" It might be abridged without injury, but it is a performance to be pondered and remembered. who can guess?' For some things said and done before their eyes, And so they grope, and grope, and grope, and cruise Quite overcast, and in a restless muse, On, on, till life is lost, At blindman's with a ghost. What is the use? "The strife for fame and the high praise of power, Seeing this man so heathenly inclined— Is as a man, who, panting up a tower, So wilted in the mood of a good mind, Bears a great stone, then, straining all his thews, I felt a kind of heat of earnest thought; Heaves it, and sees it make And studying in reply, Thou dost amaze me that thou dost mistake An end that none attain, Plainly, this world is not a scope for bliss, Whispers where man aspires. But what and where are we? what now-to-day! Their gonfalons have set. Dust though we are, and shall return to dust, Then since we see about us sin and dole, Grasping the swords of strife, Yea, all that we can wield is worth the end, Let us not use them ill. As for the creeds, Nature is dark at best; Nature was dark to the dim starry age But rouse thee, man! Shake off this hideous death Approach and say: "Well done!" That, to be greatly good, THOMAS BUCHANAN READ. [Born, 1822.-Died, 1872.] | already touched on this ground very successfully "In lands less free, less fair, but far more known, MR. READ was born in Chester county, Pennylvania, on the twelfth of March, 1822. His family having separated, in consequence of the death of his father, he in 1839 went to Cincinnati, where he was employed in the studio of CLEVENGER the sculptor, and here his attention was first directed to painting, which he chose for his profession, and soon practised with such skill as to arrest the favourable notice of some of the most eminent persons of the city and adjoining country, several of whom, including the late President HARRISON, sat to him for portraits, which he carried as specimens of his abilities to New York, when he settled in that city in 1841, while still under twenty years of age. After a few months he removed to Boston, where he remained until 1846, and then went to Philadelphia, where he practised his profession, occasionally writing for the periodicals, until 1850, in which year he made his first visit to Europe. After spending a few months in Great Britain and on the continent, he returned, in 1852, passed the following winter in Cincinnati, and in the summer of 1853 went abroad a second time, accompanied by his family, and settled in Florence, where he has since resided, in friendly intercourse with an agreeable society of artists and men of letters. Here, in July, 1855, his wife and Mr. READ's distinguishing characteristic is a de daughter died suddenly of a prevailing epidemic.licate and varied play of fancy. His more ambi Mr. READ's earliest literary performances were a series of lyrics published in the Boston Courier" in 1843 and 1844. In 1847 he printed in Boston the first collection of his "Poems;" in 1848, in Philadelphia, “ Lays and Ballads;" in 1849, in the same city, "The Pilgrims of the Great Saint Ber-parison, his muse most delights in common and nard," a prose romance, in the successive numbers of a magazine; in 1853 an illustrated edition of his "Poems," comprising, with some new pieces, all he wished to preserve of his other volumes; and in 1855 the longest of his works, "The New Pastoral," in thirty-seven books. Familiar experiences enable him to invest his descriptions with a peculiar freshness. His recollections are of the country, and of the habits of the primitive Pennsylvania farmers, in many respects the most picturesque and truly pastoral to be found in these active and practical times. A school of American pastoral poetry is yet to be established. The fresh and luxuriant beauty of our inland scenery has been sung in noble verse by BRYANT and WHITTIER, and with less power in the sweet and plaintive strains of CARLOS WILCOX, and the striking productions of STREET and GALLAGHER; bat the life of an American farmer has not yet received a just degree of attention from our poets. Mr. READ has made it the subject of a work in every way creditable to his talents and taste. He had The poem consists of a series of sketches of rustic and domestic life, mostly of primitive sim plicity, and so truthful as to be not less valuable as history than attractive as poetry. tious productions display its higher exercise, rather than that of a distinct and creative imagination; he is a lark, flickering aloft in the pure air of song, not an eagle, courting its storms and undazzled by its meridian splendour. And, to extend the com humble subjects. The flowers that spring by the dusty wayside, the cheerful murmur of the meadow brook, the village tavern, and rustic mill, and all quiet and tender impulses and affections, are his favourite sources of inspiration. He excels in homely description, marked frequently by quaintness of epithet and quiet and natural pathos. His verse, though sometimes irregular, is always musical. Indeed, in the easy flow of his stanzas and in the melody of their cadences, he seems to follow some chime of sound within his brain. This is the pervading expression of his poems, many of which might more properly be called songs. Though he has written in the dramatic form with freedom and unaffected feeling, and extremely well in didactic and descriptive blank verse, his province is evidently the lyrical. Like most of our poets, in his earlier poems Mr READ wrote from the inspiration of foreign song and story, and he seems but lately to have per ceived that the most appropriate field for the exer cise of his powers is to be found at home. THE BRICKMAKER. I. LET the blinded horse go round Long, and dark, and smother'd aisles: Of the resinous yellow pine; Hear him shout his loud alarms; Then, when this shall break asunder, l'here shall grow a stately building— Blazing through its pillar'd hal's. In those chambers, stern and dreaded, Old defenders of the land. There shall mighty words be spoken, But anon those glorious uses In these chambers shall lie dead, But this wrong not long shall linger- But when break the walls asunder, There shall grow a church whose steeple To the music of the choir. On the infant, robed in whiteness, There shall stand enwreathed in marriage Shall bring forms and hearts grown stilli Deck'd in garments richly glistening, Rustling wealth shall walk the aisle; But these wrongs not long shall linger--- For, behold! the fiery finger 111. Let the blinded horse go round Not the hall with column'd chambers, With a throbbing, burning head, There shall groan some desperate mother Nor deny the stolen bread! There the veteran, a poor debtor, Mark'd with honourable scars, Listening to some clanking fetter, Shall gaze idly through the bars: Shall gaze idly, not demurring, Though with thick oppression bow'd, While the many, doubly erring, Shall walk honour'd through the crowd. THE STRANGER ON THE SILL. And when you crowd the old barn eaves, THE DESERTED ROAD. ANCIENT road, that wind'st deserted Through the level of the vale, Sweeping toward the crowded market Like a stream without a sail; Standing by thee, I look backward, And, as in the light of dreams, See the years descend and vanishı Like thy whitely-tented teams. Here I stroll along the village As in youth's departed morn; Filling buckets at the wells, Waiting for the few who pass, In the thickly-springing grass. Ancient highway, thou art vanquish'd The usurper of the vale Rolls in fiery, iron rattle, Exultations on the gale. Thou art vanquish'd and neglected; Shall be deathless as the sun. |