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rang through the house. The play was of course con not only to divert themselves, but also in honour of tinued and concluded. The next morning a gentleman their distinguished fellow traveller, Henry Clay. They called upon the actress, and explained the event of the sang and danced, told amusing stories, and recited preceding evening in the following manner. The lady | poems. Of course Mrs. Mowatt did her share; but the on being carried home in a state of great agitation, ac

one who contributed most to the universal delight and companied by her husband and friends, confessed, as entertainment, by singing songs, telling stories, etc., was soon as she was able to speak, that she herself had been Mr. Davenport. This gentleman is gifted with an infion the eve of committing the same crime as the unfor- nite store of humour and this was invaluable. One tunate Mrs. Haller ; that the gentleman with whom she evening, for instance, when the company were more than had promised to elope, was at that time in the same usually merry, and were dancing in the great saloon, box with her, but that the play had struck her so to the the eyes of all were suddenly attracted by a singularheart, and had shewn her so fearsul a picture of her own looking Yankee, dressed in a somewhat caricatured depravity, that her overpowering emotion during the

down-east" style, with red hair, short jacket, striped performance was the consequence. Thus was she saved pantaloons; and his hands thrust as far as they possibly from the commission of a great crime.

could be into his pockets. Again :--One night when they were playing the

He was not recognised by the company in general, "Bride of Lammermoor," the audience became so ex

and the voice was so completely disguised, that even cited that they gradually rose from their seats, and when his most intimate friends the Mowatts' would not have Lady Ashton shewed Ravenswood the contract which Lucy known it, had they not seen that same disguised face had signed, and which made her the bride of another, once before. He made his remarks, in true Yankee a man in the audience cried out in a voice broken with style, on the company before him, aloud to a friend, emotion,-

who was in the secret, asked to be presented to Henry * Tear it up Ravenswood! Oh! tear it up!"

Clay, and in answer to that gentleman's questions, told In the year 1846, Mrs. Mowatt, after having gone the him long stories in which he pretended to relate his own tour of the United States, made the acquaintance of Mr. history and experiences in the world of fashion. Henry Davenport. Mrs. Mowatt had already found, as every Clay and everybody else on board were thrown into conactress must, that she could play much better when the vulsions of laughter, for several hours, upon which the principal male character was performed by a person who Yankee, pretending to be offended took his leave. understood her style, and who was as much engrossed

On the following day, which was their last, Mr. Daby his part as she herself was by hers. It was there-venport in his true character, gained much applause by

fore necessary that a gentleman should travel with them singing a song which Mrs. Mowatt had written in ho!! for this purpose, but many requisites beside talent nour of their distinguished fellow traveller. Mr. Clay

were needed. In Mr. Davenport, happily, all were com- had already known Mrs. Mowatt for a long time, and bined, he was a man of high moral character, and his had always taken the deepest interest in her welfare and gentlemanly manners, added to his unquestionable her success as an actress; and many of the letters which powers as an actor, caused Mr. Mowatt to make the this lady has brought with her to Europe were from his offer to him, which he accepted with great pleasure. pen.

Mrs. Mowatt commenced therefore, her second thea The voyage came to an end, and the whole company trical year, playing in company with this gentleman. separated with regret. Mr. Davenport was already held in high esteem by the

Our theatrical friends were now at Cincinnati, in the American public, and in concert with Mrs. Mowait, he state of Ohio, and here we may mention a circumstance grew more and more in favour ; his quiet, earnest, and which redounds greatly to the credit of the American truthful style of acting, making a deep impression wher- people, and which justifies the belief which we proudly ever he was seen. A theatrical tour was again com- entertain that 110 where, in the bosom even of the most menced. Everywhere they were feasted, and fêted, and scrupulously correct society, could women be found of loaded with rich presents, poems, complimentary let- a purer or nobler character ihan those female ornaments ters, and every possible mark of public and private of the stage which we have received from America. approbation were showered upon them.

There exists throughout the United States a strong deTheir voyage up the Misissippi was delightful. We sire to purify the theatres, and to make them all that will endeavour to communicate to our readers some of they are capable of becoming—that is, not merely the pleasure which the relation of it afforded to our places of amusement, but of the highest instruction. In selves.

Cincinnati this desire was acted upon, and although they The journey to Louisville occupies about five or six had already a very handsome theatre, another was days, so that everything is done to make the voyage as erected, which it was intended should be of this still agreeable as possible; the steam-boats resemble float- more elevated character. To this building was given the ing hotels of the most sumptuous description; costly literary name of an Athenæum, and Mrs. Mowatt and furniture fills the large state room; the walls are Mr. Davenport were requested to open it, the inaugural covered with immense mirrors; an excellent piano is address for which was written and delivered by this always to be met with, and the tables are spread with lady. So completely indeed did this new theatre answer every delicacy of the season. A band of music is in all the wishes of its friends, that it was crowded night attendance to which the company may dance in the after night, even by persons who hitherto could never evening, and the toilets of the ladies are carefully made, be persuaded to enter the doors of a theatre. Many and two, and even three times in the day. In spite how valuable testimonials of kindness were bestowed upon ever of this latter formality, all actual ceremony is cast Mrs. Mowatt and Mr. Davenport before they left; to the aside, and everybody tries to be as agreeable as possible. latier a handsome gold watch and chain, with a compliOn the occasion to which we allude, when our friends mentary inscription, was presented by the young men of were passengers in one of these magnificent steamers, the town at a public supper which they gave to him. Henry Clay was also one of the company, and added After a series of engagements of the most profitable greatly by the brilliancy of his conversation, to the description, and accompanied by every possible token of general pleasure.

public admiration and esteem, Mrs. Nowatt returned to The whole journey was the most delightful that can her father's house in New York, then her only home; and be conceived. At all the principal towns where they in July (1847) her husband sailed for England to make stopped, they were cheered by the crowds on land; the arrangements for her appearance in this country. It was weather was the most brilliant imaginable, and the believed that the voyage would perfectly establish her talents of all the company were called into requisition, health, and her countrymen wished thai she should re

ceive the stamp of approbation from the parent-country, self and Mr. Davenport at this theatre continued for sethe opinions of which they venerate so highly.

veral weeks, during which time Mrs. Mowatt appeared, All her numerous sisters, with the exception of one among other characters, in Juliet, in Rosalind in “ As whose domestic circumstances would not permit it, as. You Like It,” and Beatrice in “ Much Ado about Nosembled to celebrate a joyful reunion at the paternal thing." hearth. It was a happy time, and frequently they for The severest trial of an actor's powers, as is well got that they were not once more thoughtless children known, is Shakespere; none but talent and genius, akin with no other interests or hopes than those which con to that of the great poet himself, can fully comprehend, centered them in one common-home.

much more impersonate, his wonderfully drawn concepDuring this time Mrs. Mowatt wrote a five-act dramations. Our American friends have been subjected to this called " Armand; or, the Child of the People,” the plot trial and have stood it. They enact faithfully and worof which she had sketched cut while travelling, and thily our own Shakespere, and this will endear them to which was already engaged by the manager of the Park British hearts. Theatre. Early in September, Mr. Mowatt returned, Coming before a London public without flourish of and on the 1st of November she was to set sail for trumpets; almost unannounced and unknown, from England, and to make her first appearance in Manches- America too, where they speak our own language, and ter. The new play was completed, but there was only not either French, German, Italian or Swedish, Mrs. time to produce it in two cities, New York and Boston, Mowatt has instantly been acknowledged as an actress, whence they were to sail. It was instantly put in re- of no ordinary stamp. She will rise higher still, for, as hearsal, and produced after little more than a week's yet, we have not seen her do her best. We know not preparation at the Park theatre.

what she can do; in fact we believe, as yet she her. The day of its first appearance, in that New York self does not know the extent of her own powers. where she had experienced such singular vicissitudes of A future engagement under, as we hear, very favourfortune was, as may beexpected, one of greatexcitement able circumstances, will bring her out in her own play, to her; her sisters, who had returned to their homes, and at this moment, when all eyes are turned to France, again arrived to witness its representation, and she who how well timed would be a play in which a child of the had so important a part to act that very night was, at people triumphs over even the power of a king. In that the moment of dressing, in a complete bewilderment of case the public will have an opportunity of witnessing anxiety and joy.

what we believe, has not been seen since the days of The success of the play was brilliant in the extreme, Mrs. Inchbald, an actress performing in her own five-act and the young author and actress returned to her fa- play. ther's house, as she believed the happiest of human How excellent in character, how brave-hearted in beings.

adversity; how energetic, unselfish, devoted, is this inThe play was acted every night for the rest of the en- teresting woman, to say nothing of her extraordinary gagement. They then went to Boston, where it was in- powers of mind, our readers are capable of judging from stantly produced, and its success there was equally ihe foregoing memoir. great. We have heard her speak with emotion of the of some of her qualifications as an actress we cannot last night that she appeared before an American audi- do better than use the words of a competent authority

It was her benefit night, and so great was the whose opinion lies before us. “ The great merit of Mrs. public enthusiasm about her, that crowds were turned Mowatt's acting is the force and refinement of imaginaway from the door, there not being standing room even ation which she displays in the embodiment of characleft. When at the commencement of the second act the ter. Her mind is uncommonly flexible, and rises or heroine (Mrs. Mowatt) runs laughingly upon the stage falls into the mould of character with singular ease. as a díay Queen, she was so overpowered by the sight of She reproduces the creation of the poet in her own that crowded audience and their unusually long and imagination--makes all its thoughts and emotions real rapturous greeting, that she could not speak. In a mo to herself, stamps on the impression of each the pecument the thought flashed across her mind that perhaps liar individuality she is representing, and loses all sense she might never again stand before them; she remem- of herself in the vividness of her realization of the part. bered their ever increasing kindness; their unchanging She ensouls as well as embodies her characters. In the encouragement; and above all, she thought of the friends most important intellectual requisite of acting, we therewho had watched over her with affectionate anxiety-fore think her pre-eminently gifted; and from the exhow much will not the thought of a moment contain! treme ductility of her imagination, she is capable of inand unable to controul her feelings, she burst into tears. definite improvement in her profession, and of embodyThey applauded; they tried to re-assure her, and many ing, eventually, almost every variety of character. To wept with her; but it was not easy for her to recover this great mental advantage she joins singular advantages herself, spite of the violent efforts which she made. The of person. Her form is slight and graceful and her face good people of Boston, however, were never more her remarkably lovely, not only from expression, but from friends than at that time.

possessing all the ordinary requisites of beauty, remarkMr. and Mrs. Mowatt, accompanied by Mr. Davenport, ably fine hair, eyes, complexion and features. Her arrived in Liverpool on the 15th of November, and on the voice well justifies the impression which would be re7th of December they made their first appearance in this ceived from her appearance. In its general tone it has country, at Manchester. The inhabitants of this intelli- a clear sweetness, and it is capable of great variety of gent town have a high appreciation of the stage, and modulation. She does not seem herself aware of all its next to a London audience that of Manchester may take capabilities, or to have mastered its expression. In ! its rank for critical judgment. Their reception of the passages of anguish, fear, pride, supplication, she often ! American strangers was of the most cordial and flatter- brings out tones which seem the echoes of the heart's ing kind; and without waiting to hear what some great emotions. It is said that this is wonderful in her imAristarchus in London would say, as too many of our personation of the ‘Bride of Lammermoor.' The provincial critics in art and literature often do, pro- exquisite beauty and purity of her voice are, however, nounced upon them the most unqualified praise, and sped best evinced in the expression of sentiment, and pathos; them on their way to the capital with their best wishes.

in the clear, bird-like carol of inward content and Knowing hardly any one in London, and almost with- blissfulness, in the expression of the soul's best and out announcement, Mrs. Mowatt made her first appear- brightest affections." ance in this city on the 5th of January, at the Princess's

To the above may be added, that she has an intense Theatre, in the “ Hunchback.” The engagement of her love for her profession, and a high estimate of the uses



it was destined to perform. She feels her destiny in her woman, and an excellent actress to our profession, and hence with her entire soul, she wishes readers, and to bespeak for her that esteem and admito ennoble it.

ration, which the good and the nobly gifted always deWe wish that our space alle red us

nter into the serve and always shall receiv at our hands. merits of her various representations, but we are not Of Mr. Davenport, of whom we think most highly, theatrical critics, our object is to introduce a noble we shall probably speak at large on a future occasion.

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and those grand trees full of shade, those fields, those

mountains, and those valleys, the mute witnesses of the (Translated from the French of M. DE CORMEN IN.)

games of a free and happy childhood. By GOODWYN BARMBY.

My mother,” says he somewhere, “received from

her mother on the pillow of death, a beautiful Bible beIn loving, praying, singing, see my life.”

longing to the Crown, in which she taught me to read

LAMARTINE, 1820. when I was a little child. That Bible had engravings on “Social labour is the daily and obligatory work of every one sacred subjects in every page. When I had recited my who participates in the perils and benefits of society."

lesson well, and read with few errors, the half page of LAMARTINE, 1839. Sacred History, my mother uncovered the engraving,

and holding the book open upon her knees, prompted ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE was born at Mâcon, theme to look, and explained it to me for my recompense. 21st of October, 1790: his family name was De Prat; The silvery affectionate sound, solemn and passionful he has latterly taken the name of his maternal uncle. of her voice, added to all that which she said a powerHis father was major of a regiment of cavalry under ful, charming, and love-like accent, which rings again Louis XVI., and his mother was daughter of Madame at this moment in my ears, alas! after six years of sides Rois, under governess of the Princes of Orleans. At- lence!” Do you not see here the beautiful child with tached thus to the old order of things, his family was large blue eyes, who was to be Lamartine ? Do you not broken down by the Revolution, and his most early re- see him leaning on the knees of his mother, listening to collections carried themselves back to a sombre jail, her speech, opening his mind to all the harmonies of where he went to visit his father. Those most wicked oriental nature, and drawing from the book of books his days of terror passed over, and M. de Lamartine retired first instincts of poetry. to an obscure estate, at Milly, where his young years

Soon was the child Obliged to quit his paternal roof; calmly glided away. The remeinbrance of the domestic they sent him to finish his education at Belley, in the serenity of his first days has never been effaced from his college of the Fathers of the Faith. The religious germs mind, and at many a later time of his life, as a traveller which were sown by his mother, developed themselves and as a poet, he has invoked the sweet images of that strongly, in that melancholy solitude of the cloister: the humble tower of Milly, with its seven linden trees, his beautiful episode of Jocelyn is full of remembrances aged father, his grave and affectionate mother, his sis- imprinted by the calm and austere life of that holy resiters who were nourished at the same womanly bosom, dence.

After his departure from college, M. de Lamartine melancholy and veiled love, it was yours; that reverie passed some time at Lyons, made a first brief excursion soft and sweet, it was yours; that fretting doubt, it was into Italy, and came to Paris during the last days of the yours; that thought sometimes smiling, sometimes fuempire. Brought up in the hatred of the imperial re- nereal, passing from despair to hope, from dejection to gime, M. de Lamartine made his entry into the world enthusiasm, from the Creator to the creature; a thought without well knowing to which side he should turn his vague, uncertain, and floating, it was your thought-10 steps. Far from maternal care, forgetful sometimes of you, to us, to all, it was the thought of the age, which those severe precepts inculcated into his mind, the had been hived up in the depths of the soul, and which young man, they say, gare himself up a little to the in- at last had found a language and a form; and what form? citations of vice, dividing his hours between study, and a rhythm of celestial melody, a ringing rerse full of cathe distractions incident to his age, gadding off to make dence, and sound which vibrates as sweetly as an Eolian merry with Jussien in the wood of Vincennes, and cut- harp trembling in the evening breeze. ting into whistles the bark of oaks; while dreaming al Every thing possible has been said on this first work ready of literary, especially of dramatic glory, and well of the poet's. All the world knows by heart the “Ode received by Talma, who was pleased to hear him recite, to Byron," the “ Evening,” the “ Lake and Autumn. with his vibrating and melancholy voice, the unpublished In four years, 45,000 copies of the “Meditations” were fragments of a tragedy on Saul.

circulated. Five years afterwards the sublime voice of In 1813, the poet revisited Italy: the greater part of “Renè ” found an harinonions echo, and with one bound his “Meditations" were inspired by its beautiful sky, and only M. de Lamartine placed himself on the same pedesthat delicious page of the “Harmonies,” entitled "First tal, by the side of the demi-gods of the epoch, ChateauLove,” was sounded forth, it is believed, by some sweet briand, Goëthe, and Byron. first mystery of the heart buried within a tomb. At the This literary success, the most brilliant of the age fall of the empire he offered his services to the ancient since the Genius of Christianity, opened to M. de Lamarrace, who had had the blood and the love of his fathers, cine the career of a diplomatist. Attached to the emand was entered in a company of the guards.

bassy at Florence, he departed for Tuscany, and there After the Hundred Days, M. de Lamartine quitted the in its land of inspiration, in the midst of the splendours service. One passion absorbed him entirely—that pas- of an Italian festival, it is said that he heard a foreign sion made his glory. Love came and agitated the foun-voice-a tender and melodious voice, murmuring in his tain of poesie which slumbered in the depths of his soul. car, these verses of the “ Meditations”. It was needful to open a passage for the gushing wave.

A hopeless return of the bliss which has flown, The object of that mysterious passion, that loving and Perhaps in the future is stored for me still, loved Elvira was snatched from his arms by death. She And perhaps in the crowd a sweet spirit unknown, lived again in his verses. Lamartine sung to give eter Will answer me kindly and know my soul well. nity to her name, and France consecrated him her poet. The soul of the poet was known, he found a second El

This was in 1820. The mythologic, descriptive, and vira, and some months after he became the happy husrefined versifiers of the Voltairian school, had so com- band of a young and rich English woman, entirely smitpletely murdered poetry, that one wished for no more. ten with his person and his fame. A young man, scarcely recovered from a cruel illness,

From that time to 1825, the poet resided successively his visage paled by suffering, and covered with a veil of at Naples, as Secretary of the Embassy, some while in „şickness, on which could be read the loss of a worship- London in the same office, and then returned to Tuscany left, being, went timidly hawking about, lorem bookseb in the quality of a Chargé d'Affaires. In the interval her's to bookseller's, a roor little copy book of verses, his fortune, already considerable from his marriage, in

ct with tears. Everywhere thoy politely shifted off the crcased again through the inheritance of an opulent unpoetry and the poet. At last a bookseller, less pru-cle, but neither diplomacy nor the splendours of an arisdent, or perhaps engaged by the infinite grace of the tocratic existence were able to tear M. de Lamartine young man, decided to accept the MS. so often refused. from the worship of poetry. The good-natured bookseller was, I believe, named Nicolle. Thanks to you, M. Nicolle. Posterity owes you I was noticed in this new collection, a more correct,

The “ Second Meditations" appeared in 1823. There a remembrance. Who knows, but that without you, the more balanced, more precise versification. The poet discouraged poet' would perhaps have hurled into the had been abroad in the domain of the sonl. Grand hisfames his precious treasure, and the world might have toric facts had furnished him with noble inspirations. lost Lamartine.

The “Ode to Bonaparte,” “ Sappho," the “ Preludes," The book was printed, and thrown, without name, and the “ Dying Poet” were admired. This volume was without interest, on that stormy sea, which then as now, also well followed by the “ Poetic Sketch of Socrates, swallowed up so many thousand volumes, You remem- and by the last cantó of the “ Pilgrimage of Childe-Haber it in its modest 18mo., thrown perhaps by chance rold.” In these verses, intended to complete the epic into your hands when you were fifteen, with a hopeful of Byron, the poct finished with an eloquent tirade on soul and a loving heart. No name, no preface, nothing the abasement of Italy:pastoral, nothing warlike, nothing noisy-" Poetic Meditations” only. You have opened it carelessly ; you

Pardon me, shade of Rome! for seek I must have glanced at the first two lines

Elsewhere for men, and not in human dust. Often on the mountain by an ancient oak-tree brown,

This apostrophe appeared offersive to Colonel Pépé, a At the setting of the sun I have lain me sadly down,

Neapolitan ollicer. In the name of his country he de. You have found that it is not very bad. You have con- defended his poetry with the sword, and received a se

manded satisfaction from M. de Lamartine. The poet tinued-you are arrived at the last stanza

vere wound, which for a long while put his life in dan. When falls into the meadow the autumn forest leaf, ger. When scarcely recovered he hastened to intercede The evening breeze uplifts it, and whirls it to the vale, with the Grand Duke in favour of his adversary: And I, alas, resemble that fading leaf of grief,

After having in 1825 published the " Song of the Sa. Like it, I am borne along by the stormy northern gale. cred," the poet returned to France in 1829, and in the Your soul is moved; you have proceeded further, the month of May of the same year appeared the " Harmoemotion has redoubled; you have gone on to the very nies, Poetic and Religions." In that work, the intimate end, and then you have raised a long cry of admiration, revelation of liis every day thought, M. de Lamartine you have wept, you have hid up the book under your puts everything into metre. Since that sweet hymn of cushion that you may re-read it again; for that chaste, First Love to that gigantic invocation of all human mis



chief, (verba novissima), the poet had run over that vast mestic fireside, by the sympathies and admiration of the poetical gamut which flowing from reveries, mounted as crowd, who bids adieu to all which he loves, takes by high as enthusiasm, or descended as low as despair. Less the hand his wife and his daughter, equips a vessel and accessible to the vulgar on account of their psychologic entrusts to the waves those two portions of his heart ; intuition, and thrown besides into the midst of a great po- and all this because when a child, he read the Bible on litical commotion, the “ Harmonies” remained the book his mother's knees, and that a commanding voice cried of classic souls, the book which they loved to look over to him, without ceasing,~"Go, weep upon the mounin the silent hours when they collected themselves, to tain where Christ wept; go, sleep beneath the palm listen for the inward voice.

where Jacob slept!” And then when the anchor is M. de Lamartine was received at the Academy, and weighed, when the wind filled the sails, how people when the Revolution of July broke out, he departed for followed with anxiety the ship that bore a noble woman, Greece in the character of Minister Plenipotentiary. The a gracious child, and the poetic fortune of France. new government offered to preserve him his title. He How they read with pleasure all the details of interior refused, but remained to say farewell to three genera- arrangements. How they loved the anxieties of the tions of kings, forced by fatality to a new exile. Like husband and father,--thai crew of sixteen men who beM. de Chateaubriand, the poet dreamed that after the longed body and soul to the poet, that library of five three days, there would be an alliance of the past and hundred volumes, that tent raised at the foot of the of the future, over the head of a child. Destiny decided main mast, that arsenal of guns, of pistols and of saotherwise. His tribute of sympathy once paid to the bres, and those four cannon charged with barrel shot. unfortunate great, M. de Lamartire dashed gallantly “I have to defend two lives which are dearer to me than into the new road opened to the mind by the Revolution my own," said M. de Lamartine, with mingled solicitude of July.

and fierceness. In the passage from Marseilles to Bey" The past is nothing more than a dream,” said he, ruth, the voyager wrote his book day by day, at the

we must regret it, but we ought not to lose the day in back part of his cabin, or at evening on the deck amid weeping to no purpose. It is always lawful, always ho- the rolling of the vessel. It is a varied mosaic confused nourable, for one to take his share in the unhappiness but attractive, with moral reflections, with reliances of others, though he ought not gratuitously to take his looking backward at the past, with babblings of the share in a fault which one has not committed * * present, with thoughts thrown towards the future ; the He should return into the ranks of his fellow citizens, to whole intermingled with landscapes, the colours of think, to speak, to act, to fight, with his country-the which might have been envied by Claude Lorraine. The family of families.”

poet notes as he passes, the ship flies, the waves flow, Here then commenced the revelation of a tendency in and meanwhile valleys, mountains, monuments, men, M. de Lamartine until then unperceived. • In loving, sea, and sky, all are seized and fixed by the aid of a praying, singing, see my life," said the happy lover of goose-quill, and described with an inexpressible charm. Elvira, but lo! after having led us to the threshold of The interest goes on increasing. The varied episodes of the mysterious sanctuary of the heart, whereof he maritime and oriental life accumulate. Nothing is deknew all the secrets, M. de Lamartine, smitten with a ficient in the drama-not even the catastrophe. For love for the outward life, aspires to the storms of the each time that the name or image of Julia comes under tribune, descends the heights of the empyrean to enter the pen of M. de Lamartine, they cause an oppression the forum, and wears the parliamentary toga as well as of the heart, and we sympathize with the passionful acthe poetic robe. His first step in this new career was cents of a father, who broods with love over his beautimarked by a check. The electors of Toulon and Dun- ful child, and is pleased to paint her Detached from kirk refused him their suffrages. They had not forgot- amid all those harsh and masculine figures, her locks ten the discourteous verses which were addressed by unbound and falling on her white robe, her beautiful him to their vassal, the poet Barthélemy. The public rosy face, happy and gay, surmounted with a sailor's gained by it an epistle sparkling with beauties, in which straw hat tied under her chin, playing with the white from the height of his glory M. de Lamartine crushed cat of the captain, or with a nest of sea pigeons, woke the author of " Nemesis."

up as they were sleeping on the carriage of a cannon, Some while afterward he decided upon putting into while she furnished crumbs of bread to their taste.” execution the project of his whole life, and on the 20th

Alas! now we behold the coast of Asia, we see Libaof May, 1842 he was at Marseilles, ready to embark for nus, we see Beyruth, the fatal town, the town in which Asia.

Julia was to die. The voyager disembarks. He buys After a travel of six months, M. de Lamartine re- five houses for his wise and daughter. He leaves them turned from the East, with grand ideas, and a beautiful to enjoy all the magnificence of oriental life, and debook, a treasure alas! right dearly bought, as he had parts for Jerusalem, with his own escort of twenty lost there his only child, his fair Julia, whom the noble horsemen. The sheiks of the tribes come to meet him. heart of the father, and of the poet wept for, like Ra- All the towns open to him their gates; and their gochel who would not be comforted. The book of M. de vernors answer for his safety with their heads, accordLamartine had a very confined success. It seems as if ing to the will of Ibrahim Pacha. Lady Stanhope, the critics, and the public had taken in earnest the that miniature Semiramis, half sublime, and half foolmodest lines of the preface, in which the author cheap-1 ish, predicted him marvellous destinies, and the Arabs ened his work, but although unsatisfactory to the pub. delighted with the beautiful and imposing figure, tall lic, to the critics, and to M. de Lamartine, those pages in height, straight, and sparkling with arms, of him do not appear so negligent to us, as they were said who passed at a gallop with twenty horsemen over the or believed to be. Apart from the justness, more or desert, bowed the head to him they called the Frank less contestible, of the political views, it is certain that Emir, the French Prince, or simply the Emir, who was if richness of style, elevation of thought, freshness of that poor poet who had hitherto vainly prayed the oil imagery, and besides all that rapid and varied succes- merchants and the manufacturers of sugar from beet sion of scenes the most moving, constitute a beautiful root, to please to open for him the doors of the chamwork, the “ Travels in the East," is a book which will bers. not die.

We should never finish if we were to stay as we Religion, History, Philosophy, Politics, each contri- wish over all these beautiful pages, each of which is bute to this book. Let us try to analyse it rapidly.-- in itself a picture. Is there in the world a scene more And at first we see a man, rendered happy by glory, by gracious, more picturesque or more novel than this ? opulence, by the heart, by sacred affections of the do- M. de Lamartine is reclining upon the odorous slopes of


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