mighty dead," whose souls as well as faces are thus in some degree transmitted to posterity. Next to my association with the living men of genius who render illustrious the names of Englishmen, no more sensible gratification has accrued to me from my residence in this country, than that of studying the countenances of their predecessors; no employment has tended more efficaciously to improve my acquaintance with the history of the nation, to animate research, and to quicken the spirit of competition. I quitted Oxford with a fervent wish that such an establishment might one day grace our own country. I have uttered an ejaculation to the same effect when ever the great monuments of industry and refinement which Europe displays exclusively, have fallen under my observation. We have indeed just grounds to hope that we shall one day eclipse the old world. "Each rising art by just gradation moves, Toil builds on toil, and age on age improves." The only paper in the Didactics, to which we have any decided objection, is a tolerably long article on the subject of Phrenology, entitled "Memorial of the Phrenological Society of to the Honorable the Congress of sitting at ." Considered as a specimen of mere burlesque the Memorial is well enough -but we are sorry to see the energies of a scholar and an editor (who should be, if he be not, a man of metaphysical science) so wickedly employed as in any attempt to throw ridicule upon a question, (however much maligned, or however apparently ridiculous) whose merits he has never examined, and of whose very nature, history, and assumptions, he is most evidently ignorant. Mr. Walsh is either ashamed of this article now, or he will have plentiful reason to be ashamed of it hereafter. COOPER'S SWITZERLAND. Sketches of Switzerland. By an American. Philadelphia: Carey, Lea and Blanchard. These very interesting sketches are merely selections from a work of much larger extent, originally intended for publication, but which, as a whole, is, for private reasons, suppressed. There is consequently on this account, and on some others, several vacuums in the narrative. Mr. Cooper commenced the year 1828 in Paris, whence, after a short stay, he paid a visit to England. In June he returned to France by the way of Holland and Belgium. The narrative embraced in vol. i commences at Paris after his return from England, and terminates at Milan. The remainder of the year 1828, and the years 1829, 1830, and 1831, with part of 1832, were passed between Italy, Germany, France and Belgium. Volume ii recommences at Paris, and a great portion of it is occupied with matters relating to other countries than that which gives a title to the book. We either see, or fancy we see, in these volumes, and more particularly in the Preface affixed to them, a degree of splenetic ill humor with both himself and his countrymen, quite different from the usual manner of the novelist, and evincing something akin to resentment for real or imaginary ill usage. He frankly tells us among other things, that had the whole of his intended publication seen the light, it is probable their writer would not have escaped some imputations on his patriotism-for in making the comparisons that naturally arose from his subject, he has spoken in favor of American principles much oftener than in favor of American things. He then proceeds with a sneer at a "numerous class of native critics," and expresses a hope that he may be permitted at least to assert, that "a mountain fifteen thousand feet high is more lofty than one of fifteen hundred, and that Mont Blanc is a more sublime object than Butter Hill." We quote a specimen of the general tone of this Preface. The writer does not expect much favor for the politiHe has the misfortune to belong to neither of the two cal opinions that occasionally appear in these letters. great parties that divide the country, and which, though so bitterly hostile and distrustful of each other, will admit of no neutrality. It is a menacing symptom that there is a disposition to seek for a base motive, whenever a citizen may not choose to plunge into the extremes that characterize the movements of political factions. This besetting vice is accompanied by another feeling, that is so singularly opposed to that which every body is ready to affirm is the governing principle of the institutions, that it may do no harm slightly to advert to it. Any one who may choose to set up a semi-official organ of public opinion, called a newspaper, however illiterate, base, flagrantly corrupt, and absolutely destitute of the confidence and respect of every man in the community, may daily pour out upon the public his falsehoods, his contradictions, his ignorance, and his corruption, treating the national interests as familiarly as admitted vocation; the public servant, commissioned to "household terms," and all because he is acting in an execute the public will, may even turn upon his masters, and tell them not only in what light they are to view him and his conduct, but in what light they are also to view the conduct of his associates in trust; in short, tell them how to make up their judgments on himself and others; and all because he is a public servant, and the public is his master: but the private citiIzen, who mrely forms a part of that public, is denounced for his presumption, should he dare to speak of matters of general concernment, except under such high sanction, or as the organ of party. has not been permitted to influence the tone of these It may be well to say at once, that this peculiar feeling letters, which have been written, in all respects, as if the republic did not contain one of those privileged persons, honored as "patriots" and "godlikes," but as if both classes were as actually unknown to the country as they are certainly unknown to the spirit and letter of its institutions. The spirit of these observations seems to be carried out (we cannot say with what degree of justice,) in many other portions of the book. On page 71, vol. i, we observe what follows. dent, on the work of a recent French traveller in the Among other books, I have laid my hands, by acciUnited States. We read little other than English books at home, and are much given to declaiming against English travellers for their unfairness. but, judging from this specimen of Gallic opinion, our ancient allies rate us quite as low as our quondam fellow subjects. further into the matter, and I am now studying one or A perusal of the work in question has led me to inquire two German writers on the same interesting subject. I must say that thus far, I find little to feed national vanity, and I begin to fear (what I have suspected ever since the first six months in Europe) that we are under an awkward delusion respecting the manner in which the rest of Christendom regards that civilization touching which we are so sensitive. It is some time since I have made the discovery, that 'the name of an American is not a passport all over Europe,' but on the other hand, that where it conveys any very distinct notions flattering or agreeable.... I shall pursue the trail on at all, it usually conveys such as are any thing but which I have fallen, and you will probably hear more of this, before these letters are brought to a close. At page 113 of the same volume we have something of the same nature, and which we confess astonished us in no little degree. It is at all times a very difficult thing to convey vivid and, at the same time, accurate impressions of grand scenery by the use of words. When the person to whom the communication is made has seen objects that have a becomes less difficult, for he who speaks or writes may illustrate his meaning by familiar comparisons; but who in America, that has never left America, can have a just idea of the scenery of this region? A Swiss would readily comprehend a description of vast masses of grastantly before his eyes; but to those who have never looked upon such a magnificent spectacle, written accounts, when they come near their climax, fall as much short of the intention, as words are less substantial than things. With a full consciousness of this deficiency in my craft, I shall attempt to give you some notion of the two grandest aspects that the Alps, when seen from this place, assume; for it seems a species of poetical treason to write of Switzerland and be silent on what are certainly two of its most decided sublimities. We have just had a visit from two old acquaintances--general similarity to those described, the task certainly Manhattanese. They tell me a good many of our people are wandering among the mountains, though they are the first we have seen. There is a list of arrivals published daily in Berne; and in one of them I found the name of Captain C, of the Navy; and that of Mr. O., an old and intimate friend, whom it was vexa-nite capped with eternal snow, for such objects are contious to miss in a strange land. Mr. and Mrs. G-, of New York, are also somewhere in the cantons. Our numbers increase, and with them our abuse; for it is not an uncommon thing to see, written in English in the travellers' books kept by law at all the inns, pasquinades on America, opposite the American names. What a state of feeling it betrays, when a traveller cannot write his name, in compliance with a law of the country in which he happens to be, without calling down upon himself anathemas of this kind! I have a register of twenty-three of these gratuitous injuries. What renders them less excusable, is the fact, that they who are guilty of the impropriety would probably think twice before they performed the act in the presence of the party wronged. These intended insults are, consequently, so many registers of their own meanness. Let the truth be said; I have never seen one, unless in the case of an American, or one that was not written in English! Straws show which way the wind blows. This disposition, in our kinsmen, to deride and abuse America, is observed and freely commented on by the people of the continent, who are far from holding us themselves in the highest respect. And again, on page 327, vol. ii. One of these appearances is often alluded to, but I do not remember to have ever heard the other mentioned. The first is produced by the setting sun, whose rays of a cloudless evening, are the parents of hues and changes of a singularly lovely character. For many minutes the lustre of the glacier slowly retires, and is gradually succeeded by a tint of rose color, which, falling on so luminous a body, produces a sort of "roseate light;" the whole of the vast range becoming mellowed and subdued to indescribable softness. This appearance gradually increases in intensity, varying on different evenings, however, according to the state of the atmosphere. At the very moment, perhaps, when the eye is resting most eagerly on this extraordinary view, the light vanishes. No scenic change is more sudden than that which folI have made this comparison as the last means I know lows. All the forms remain unaltered, but so varied in of to arouse you from your American complacency on hue, as to look like the ghosts of mountains. You see the subject of the adjectives grand, majestic, elegant and the same vast range of eternal snow, but you see it splendid, in connection with our architecture. The lat- ghastly and spectral. You fancy that the spirits of the ter word, in particular, is coming to be used like a house- Alps are ranging themselves before you. Watching the hold term; while there is not, probably, a single work peaks for a few minutes longer, the light slowly departs. of art, from Georgia to Maine, to which it can with pro-The spectres, like the magnified images of the phantaspriety be applied. I do not know a single edifice in the Union that can be considered more than third rate by its size and ornaments, nor more than one or two that ought to be ranked even so high. When it comes to capitals, and the use of the adjectives I have just quoted, it may be well to remember, that there is no city in the Republic that has not decidedly the air and the habits of a provincial town, and this too, usually without possessing the works of art that are quite commonly found in this hemisphere, even in places of that rank, or a single public building to which the term magnificent can with any fitness be adjudged. magoria, grow more and more faint, less and less material, until swallowed in the firmament. What renders all this more thrillingly exquisite is, the circumstance that these changes do not occur until after evening has fallen on the lower world, giving to the whole the air of nature sporting in the upper regions, with some of her spare and detached materials. This sight is far from uncommon. It is seen during the summer, at least, in greater or less perfection, as often as twice or thrice a week. The other is much less frequent; for, though a constant spectator when the atmosphere was favorable, it was never my fortune to witness it but twice; and even on these occasions, only one of them is entitled to come within the description I am about to attempt. It is necessary to tell you that the Aar flows toward Berne in a north-west direction, through a valley of some width, and several leagues in length. To this fact the Bernese are indebted for their view of the Ober We can only say, that if the suppressed portions of Mr. Cooper's intended publication embraced any thing more likely than these assertions and opinions to prove unacceptable to American readers at large, it is perhaps better, both for his own reputation, and for the interest of his publishers, that he finally decided upon the sup-land Alps, which stretch themselves exactly across the pression. Yet Mr. Cooper may be right, and not having the fear of punishment sufficiently before our eyes, we, for ourselves, frankly confess that we believe him to be right. The passages which remain of a similar nature to those we have quoted, will only serve we hope, to give additional piquancy to these admirable Sketches. As a work affording extensive and valuable information on the subject of Switzerland, we have seen nothing in any shape, at all equal to the volumes before us. The extract we now subjoin, will prove beyond doubt, that the fine descriptive powers of the author of the Prairie, are in as full vigor as ever. mouth of the gorge, at the distance of forty miles in an * Jung Frau, or the virgin; (pronounced Yoong Frow.) The mountain is thus called, because it has never been scaled. In lake of Thun, on whose margin it stands; and at 7340 French, or nearly 8000 English feet above the sea short, it is rather higher than the highest peak of our own White Mountains. The Jung Frau rises directly behind this mass, rather more than a mile nearer to heaven. The day, on the occasion to which I allude, was clouded, and as a great deal of mist was clinging to all the smaller mountains, the lower atmosphere was much charged with vapor. The cap of the Niesen was quite hid, and a wide streak of watery clouds lay along the whole of the summits of the nearer range, leaving, however, their brown sides misty but visible. In short the Niesen and its immediate neighbors looked like any other range of noble mountains, whose heads were hid in the clouds. I think the vapor must have caused a good deal of refraction, for above these clouds rose the whole of the Oberland Alps to an altitude which certainly seemed even greater than usual. Every peak and all the majestic formation was perfectly visible, though the whole range appeared to be severed from the earth, and to float in air. The line of communication was veiled, and while all below was watery, or enfeebled by mist, the glaciers threw back the fierce light of the sun with powerful splendor. The separation from the lower world was made the more complete, from the contrast between the sombre hues beneath and the calm but bright magnificence above. One had some difficulty in imagining that the two could be parts of the same orb. The effect of the whole was to create a picture of which I can give no other idea, than by saying it resembled a glimpse, through the windows of heaven, at such a gorgeous but chastened grandeur, as the imagination might conceive to suit the place. There were moments when the spectral aspect just mentioned, dimmed the lustre of the snows, without injuring their forms, and no language can do justice to the sublimity of the effect. It was impossible to look at them without religious awe; and, irreverent though it may seem, I could hardly persuade myself I was not gazing at some of the sublime mysteries that lie beyond the grave. A fortnight passed in contemplating such spectacles at the distance of sixteen leagues, has increased the desire to penetrate nearer to the wonders; and it has been determined that as many of our party who are of an age to enjoy the excursion, shall quit this place in a day or two for the Oberland. MELLEN'S POEMS.* The Martyr's Triumph; Buried Valley; and other Poems. By Grenville Mellen. Boston, 300 pp. us. wild and magnificent spot upon which this terrible catastrophe occurred is perfect, and the description of the circumstances and incidents of the scene most faith ful. The Scenery of the White Mountains of New Of quenchless eye and tireless wing; Thou stoop'st to earth so lowly now! Voice of the view less spirit! that hast rung Were we looking for faults, doubtless we should be able to find them, for who is faultless? But that is not our aim. Yet would we suggest to the author that the use of the word dulce in stanza six, is somewhat forced,—and though a sweet word in itself, is yet “like sweet bells jangled, harsh, and out of tune,” on account of its rarity, which induces the reader to note its strangeness rather than to admire its application. The whole book abounds with proofs of Mellen's fine musical ear, and therefore does it seem to us a fault that he should have suffered the compositor to do him the injustice of printing such a line as this. We took up this book with the conviction that we should be pleased with its contents, and our highly wrought expectations have not in any degree been disappointed. It is as high praise as we are able to bestow upon it, that we have read most of its contents with the very associations around us, which are required for the perfect production of the impressions intended to be produced by the poet-and that we have, in each and all, still found those impressions strengthening and deepening upon our minds, as we perused the pages before "The Buried Valley," in which is portrayed the "Before ill-starr'd Dunsinane's waving wood!" well remembered tragedy of the avalanche, which, in 1826, buried a peaceful cottage situated at the foot of But it is for the minor, or shorter pieces which the the White Mountains, with all its inhabitants, at mid-volume contains, that it is most highly to be valued. night, is not perhaps the best, though a most deeply interesting part of the volume. It is too unequal in its style, and at times too highly wrought, perhaps, as a picture. But the idea which it gives the reader of the *We have received this notice of Mellen's Poems from a personal friend, in whose judgment we have implicit reliance-of course we cannot deviate from our rules by adopting the criticism as Editorial. Mellen is delightful in his "occasional poems." Take TO HELEN. That ceaseless round thee flows; Should Joy's fast waves dash o'er thy soul, In free and reckless throng, What Music answers from the whole, In thy resistless song! Oh! Music came a boon to thee, To charm us from our tears! Should Grief's dim phantoms then conspire To lure from its long sorrows hence For thou wert born of melody, Thy soul was bath'd in song! σε Το There are many such, as, for instance, "To Sub Rosa," "Death of Julia," ""The Eagle," "The Bugle," Gabriella R-, of Richmond," &c. &c. Mellen is distinguished for his lyric powers. His Odes are all very fine. That "To Music," in the volume before us, is deserving of particular mention, as indeed are those "To Shakspeare," "To Byron," "To Lafayette," and others, written on several public occasions. The volume has but one general fault, and that is, its deficiency in the lighter and gayer strain, in which we have private proofs that Mellen certainly excels. It were to be regretted that the poet did not throw into his collection some touches of that delicate and graceful humor, which none can more happily hit off than himself. The general tone of the volume is grave, if not indeed severe-though relieved by many exquisite verses like those already alluded to, and of which the following may serve as another specimen. TO SUB ROSA. Lady, if while that chord of thine, So beautifully strung To music that seem'd just divine, Still sweetly round me rung, I should essay a higher song Than humblest minstrel may, Shame o'er my lyre would breathe the wrong, And lure my hand away. Forgive me then if I forbear, Where thou hast done so well, Nor o'er my harp strings idly dare What I should feebly tell. 'Tis woman that alone can breathe These holier fancies free Ah, then, be thine the fadeless wreath I proudly yield to thee. 0. We may add to the critique of our friend O. that in looking over cursorily the poems of Mellen, we have been especially taken with the following spirited lyric. STANZAS, Sung at Plymouth, on the Anniversary of the landing of our Fathers, 22d Dec. 1820. Wake your harp's music!-louder-higher, And smite again each quiv'ring wire, Shout like those godlike men of old, On this bless'd soil their anthem roll'd, From native shores by tempests driven, And found beneath a wilder heaven, An altar rose-and prayers-a ray Broke on their night of wo The harbinger of Freedom's day, Two hundred years ago! They clung around that symbol too, And swore while skies and waves were blue, They stood upon the red man's sod, Oh! 'twas a hard unyielding fate And Persecution strove with Hate, But safe above each coral grave, A God was on the western wave, They knelt them on the desert sand, Alone upon the dreary strand They look'd upon the high blue air, The Warrior's red right arm was bar'd, The dark chiefs yell'd alarm-and swore And his hewn bones should bleach their shore, But lo! the warrior's eye grew dim, His arm was left alone; The still black wilds which shelter'd him, No longer were his own! Time fled-and on this hallow'd ground His highest pine lies low, And cities swell where forests frown'd, Two hundred years ago! Oh! stay not to recount the tale, The firmest cheek might well grow pale, To hear it to the last. The God of Heaven, who prospers us, And shield us from the red man's curse, Come then great shades of glorious men, From your still glorious grave; Look on your own proud land again, We call ye from each mould'ring tomb, To bless the world ye snatch'd from doom, Then to your harps—yet louder-higher- And smite again each quiv'ring wire, Shout for those godlike men of old, On this bless'd soil their anthem roll'd, The RICHMOND, FREDERICKSBURG AND POTOMAC RAIL ROAD COMPANY, in connection with the other Rail Road and Steamboat Companies on the route, have adopted the following Schedule, by which the daily Mail is now carried. The whole time required between Blakely and New York, being Northwards, 54 hours; Southwards, 57 hours. Between New Orleans and New York, Northwards, 12 days and 13 hours; Southwards, 13 days and 8 hours. Of the whole distance between Blakely and Baltimore, 126 miles is travelled upon Rail Roads, and 50 miles by Steamboat. The Stage Travelling, which is conducted by Messrs. J. WOOLFOLK & Co. and Messrs. J. H. AVERY & Co. in the handsomest manner, being now only 67 miles, is becoming rapidly reduced by the extension of this Rail Road. P Passengers are never in danger of delay, preference being given to such as enter and continue on the line. By arrangements which this Company is making, Passengers, with their baggage, will be conveyed to and from the Depot, without charge. On the Rail Road, a coach will be especially appropriated to Northern and Southern Travellers; and in general, the Company's Agents will adopt all measures calculated to expedite and facilitate their journey. Carriages and Horses are safely and expeditiously transported; enabling those travelling in them, with the additional use of the Potomac Steamboat, and the Petersburg Rail Road, to accomplish, without fatigue to their horses, the journey between Washington and Blakely, N. C. in two days. The Mail Train leaves Richmond at 6 o'clock, A. M.; returning, leaves the North Anna at 4 o'clock, P. M. The alternate Trains for Passengers and Freight, leave the North Anna at half past 8 o'clock, A. M.; and Richmond at half past 1 o'clock, P. M. All possible care will be taken of baggage, but it will be carried only at its owner's risk. RAIL ROAD OFFICE, Richmond, May 30, 1836. |