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&c., but these are not unpoetical ; while the Suddenly the flame sinks down; same liveliness of fancy on the Old Bridge

Sink the rumours of renown; over the Pegnitz, in Nuremberg, stirs us, we And alone the night-wind drear

Clamours louder, wilder, rauger, confess, quite as much as one of Macaulay's

"Tis the brand of Meleager lyrics. This mannerism, in the little thing

Dying on the hearth-stone here!” before us, is manifest in The Bells of Lynn,

And I answer, -" Though it be, heard at Nahant, and perhaps more strik- Why should that discomfort me ? ingly still in the —

No endeavour is in vain;

Its reward is in the doing,
THE WIND OVER THE CHIMNEY.

And the rapture of pursuing
See, the fire is sinking low,

Is the prize the vanquished gain.
Dusky red the embers glow,

While above them' still I cower, Well, Mr. Longfellow bas written far better
While a moment more I linger,

things; but in any way, “common place” Though the clock, with lifted finger,

does not seem to us to serve his attributes Points beyond the midnight hour.

and position as a poet. But, certainly, there Sings the blackened log a tane

is no knowing what these, his critics, might Learned in some forgotten June

do if they tried, and infinitely lofty powers From a schoolboy at his play,

eagles of song, for instance, cannot be When they both were young together, expected to have much complacency for Heart of youth and summer weather grasshopper songsters. We hoped there Making all their holiday.

was truth in the long-spread report, that he

was engaged in translating Dante; we fear And the night-wind rising, hark ; that it may mean little more than that he How above there in the dark,

has been engaged in some such little sketches In the midnight and the snow,

and studies as those in this little volume Ever wilder, fiercer, grander,

studies of the Divinia Comedia — here are Like the trumpets of Iskander, All the noisy chimneys blow!

one or two :Every quivering tongue of flame

STUDIES IN ANCIENT CATHEDRALS. Seems to murmur some great name,

Seems to say to me, “Aspire !” How strange the sculptures that adorn these But the night-wind answers, "Hollow

towers ! Are the visions that you follow,

This crowd of statues, in whose folded sleeves Into darkness sinks your fire ! ”

Birds build their nests; while canopied with

leaves Then the flicker of the blaze

Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers, Gleams on volumes of old days,

And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers ! Written by masters of the art,

But fiends and dragons on the gargoyled Loud through whose majestic pages

eaves ROMs the melody of ages,

Watch the dead Christ between the living Throb the harp-strings of the heart,

thieves,

And, underneath, the traitor Judas lowers ! And again the tongues of flame

Ah! from what agonies of heart and brain, Start exulting and exclaim :

What exultations trampling on despair, “ These are prophets, bards, and seers ; What tenderness, what tears, what hate of In the horoscope of nations,

wrong, Like ascendant constellations,

What passionate outery of a soul in pain,
They control the coming years."

Uprose this poem of the earth and air,

This mediæval miracle of song!
But the night-wind cries : “Despair !
Those who walk with feet of air

I enter, and I see thee in the gloom
Leave no long-enduring marks ;

Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine !
At God's forges incandescent

And strive to make my steps keep pace with Mighty hammers beat incessant,

thine. These are but the flying sparks.

The air is filled with some unknown perfume ;

The congregation of the dead make room "Dust are all the hands that wrought; For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine ; Books are sepulchres of thought;

Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of The dead laurels of the dead

pine Rustle for a moment only,

The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb. Like the withered leaves in lonely From the confessionals I hear arise Churchyards at some passing tread. Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies,

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And lamentations from the crypts below; quiet inland river, they soothe, rest, and And then a voice celestial, that begins

engage : With the pathetic words, Although your

sins A8 scarlet be,” and ends with " as the snow.” So all night long the storm roared on;

The morning broke without a sun;

In tiny spherule traced with lines
I lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze Of Nature's geometric signs,

With forms of saints and holy men who died, In starry flake, and pellicle,
Here martyred and hereafter glorified ;

All day the hoary meteor fell ;
And the great Rose upon its leaves displays And, when the second morning shone
Christ's Triumph, and the angelic roundelays We looked upon a world unknown,

With splendour upon splendour multiplied; On nothing we could call our own.
And Beatrice again at Dante's side

Around the glistening wonder bent No more rebukes, but smiles her words of The blue walls of the firmament, praise.

No cloud above, no earth below, And then the organ sounds, and unseen choirs A universe of sky and snow !

Sing the old Latin hymns of peace and The old familiar sights of ours love,

Took marvellous shapes; strange domes and And benedictions of the Holy Ghost;

towers And the melodious bells among the spires Rose up where sty or corn-crib stood, O'er all the house-tops and through heaven Or garden-wall, or belt of wood; above

A smooth white mound the brush-pile showed, Proclaim the elevation of the Host!

A fenceless drift what once was road;

The bridļe-post an old man sat We surely wish Mr. Longfellow' would With loose-flung coat and high cocked hat; bend himself to the translation of Dante. We The well-curb had a Chinese roof; fancy he has all the requisites for the pro- And even the long sweep, high aloof, duction of what, in that case, would affect In its slant splendor, seemed to tell us like a new and equal poem.

Of Pisa's leaning miracle.

All day the gusty north-wind bore ANOTHER, and to us, a fresh volume of Low circling round its southern zone,

The loosening drift its breath before ; American Herse, comes to us with a very The sun through drizzling snow-mist'shone. timely title. Snow Bound; a Winter Idyú, No church-bell lent its Christian tone with five Photographic Illustrations taken To the savage air, no social smoke from American Scenery. By John Green Curled over woods of snow-hung oak, leaf Whittier. (Alfred Bennett). We al-1 A solitude made more intense ways procure, with pleasant expectations, By dreary voiced elements, Mr. Whittier's true, tender, fresh and flow. The shrieking of the mindless wind, ing verses. Here we have a portrait of

The moaning tree-boughs swaying blind, the amiable and admirable author; but the Of ghostly finger-tips of sleet.*

And on the glass the unmeaning beat photographs are not so clear and distinct as Beyond the circle of our hearth the verses ; they tell the story, always an No welcome sound of toil or mirth attractive one, of household life among the Unbound the spell, and testified snows. “ A Flemish picture of old days,” Of human life and thought outside. a picture of old American farm-house life We minded that the sharpest ear - limned by the tender pencil of a poet's The buried brooklet could not hear, memory, abounding in sweet pathetic The music of whose liquid lip leaden-coloured cloud shades; life indoors To have an almost human tone. touches ; bright flashes of firelight and Had been to us companionship,

And, in our lonely life, had grown and out; the snow becomes to the bright vision of the author “ A weird palimpsest,"

Who they were who sat round the fire, and he sees the life beneath the monotonous that snow-bound winter time, and thoughts and obscuring snow wreath :

of where they are now, and of the changed

world they have left behind them: what Who hath not learned, in hours of faith,

stories were told in those days, what books The truth to flesh and sense unknown, That Life is ever lord of Death,

were read : And Love can never lose its own !

From painful Sewell's ancient tomo,

Beloved in every Quaker home, There is rich felicity of description in Of faith firewinged by martyrdom, these easy happy verses; they flow as freely Or Chalkley's Journal, old and quaint, as a river; and, like the waters of some Gentlest of skippers, rare sea-saint !

Such is the tale the poet tells in his etors and editors of this paper, to a great "Life's late afternoon;" with a deep love deal of annoyance and much loss of time. of, and clear insight into, nature's ways and We refer to the idea which is so strangely teachings, a Christian hope “full of im- prevalent, that almost anybody who is mortality,” lightening all his verses; a beau- capable of writing with tolerable correcttiful poem for any time, a song of faith and ness, has some education, and either has, or hope, especially appropriate for winter time. imagines that he has a large stock of ideas

and considerable store of information, is Clasp, Angel of the backward look

qualified to perform editorial duties, and And folded wings of ashen gray

may, without presumption, solicit employAnd voice of echoes far away,

ment on some daily newspaper, and have The brazen covers of thy book ; The weird palimpsest old and vast,

the right to feel surprised, and even hurt, if Wherein thou hid'st the spectral past,

his offers are not accepted. To such an exWhere, closely mingling, pale and glow

tent has this delusion obtained, that many The characters of joy and woe;

persons are willing to abandon occupations The monographs of outlived years,

and professions for which they have qualiOf smile-illumed or dim with tears,

fied themselves by practice and study, in Green hills of life that slope to death, order to embark in one of which they have And haunts of home whose vistaed trees po experience, and, for which they have Shade off to mournful cypresses

had no training. This arises from the idea With the white amaranths underneath.

that editors and newspaper writers do not Even while I look, I can but heed The restless sands' incessant fall,

require practice and training -- that reguImportunate hours that hours succeed,

lar course of study and apprenticeship which Each clamorous with its own sharp need,

are demanded in other trades and callings And duty keeping pace with all.

- that an editor springs into existence Shut down and clasp the heavy lids;

somewhat in the manner of Minerva's birth I hear again the voice that bids

- fully prepared by nature and education The dreamer leave his dream midway to do battle with the veteran and skilled For larger hopes and graver fears :

masters of the profession, without the slightLife greatens in these later years,

est previous discipline and drill, that in fact The century's aloe flowers to-day !

the old Latin maxim is a misprint, and instead of “poeta

» should read "editor Yet, haply, in some lull of life, Some Truce of God which breaks its strife,

nascitur, orator fit.” The worlding's eyes shall gather dew,

Unhappy infatuation! Unhappy for the Dreaming in throngful city ways

victim ; unhappier for the public, and unOf winter joys his boyhood knew;

happiest for the conductor of a daily newsAnd dear and early friends — the few

paper, who has to devote a large portion of Who yet remain – shall pause to view his valuable time to the unpleasant task of

These Flemish pictures of old days ; declining, and giving the gentlest reason Sit with me by the homestead hearth,

he can imagine for declining, the offers of And stretch the hands of memory forth

scores of misguided aspirants for editorial To warm them at the wood-fire's blaze!

fame who daily and hourly favor him with And thanks untraced to lips unknown

visits. Shall greet me like the odors blown From unseen meadows newly mown,

Were it not for the obviously innocent Or lilies floating in some pond,

motives and good intentions of some of Wood-fringed, the wayside gaze beyond ; these parties, we might be provoked, our The traveller owns the grateful sense

amour propre offended, by the- apparent Of sweetness near, he knows not whence, superciliousness or depreciatory estimate of And, pausing, takes with forehead bare the labors, the duties and demands of our The benediction of the air.

profession indicated by this very erroneous and contemptuous view of its necessities qualifications. A greater folly and delu

sion never prevailed among intelligent peoFrom The New York Weekly Times. ple than this idea. The editorial conduct

of a daily paper, a successful and popular EDITORIAL ASPIRANTS.

one, requires a longer experience and a

rarer combination of qualities, intellectual One of the most common delusions of the and moral, more general knowledge, fact, large number of unemployed, or inade- and industry, than are demanded in any of quately employed persons in our city, is the professions and callings in which our that which subjects us, meaning the propri- | people are engaged. Such editors, too, are

to us

more difficult to find - are, in fact, not- | their vera causa lies, not in the mind, which withstanding the demand, fewer than the works through the features of Mr. Schulz, number of competent persons in other but in the minds worked upon, which in the employment. Good lawyers, skilful and freedom of their own constructive power learned physicians, eloquent and able di- shape the materials offered to them to their vines, artisans of great skill, machinists of own imaginings, and therefore " sit loose to wonderful powers of invention, merchants the mechanism of expression." The case is profoundy versed in all the laws of trade an illustration of that production of being and all the intricacies of finance, abound in out of seeming," ably discussed by the late large communities, but editors, capable, Professor Grote in a remarkable paper pubable, fully qualified to conduct aan 'inde- lished in Macmillan's Magazine for this pendent daily newspaper, have to be sought month. for with great diligence and perseverance, Mr. Schulz's own character I conceive to and are very rarely found in the largest, be truly indicated by the sensible, obsermost enlightened, and higbly educated com- vant, slightly humorous, otherwise not very munities. The editorial talent is the rarest remarkable face,” which you describe. of all other talents among even this high- Endow such a mind with flexible facial musly gifted and versatile people of ours. cles, and it has all that it requires for putWriters, able, learned, elegant, and witty, ting on the marked lines commonly assoare as numerous as butterflies in summer, ciated with particular characters. These but when, with their qualifications, we seek lines Mr. Schulz makes conspicuous by intento find combined the judgment, tact, skill, sifying the light and shadows, and on this and readiness needed in the editor of a hint 'the imagination of the spectators imdaily journal, our quest is rarely indeed re- mediately acts, building all the lines of his warded with success, and the exacting face into the types supposed to belong to the nature of the standard of competency in particular characters indicated. Let a Lavthe profession is painfully brought home ater criticize the performance, and proba

bly he would tell us that nine-tenths of Mr. We hope that this view of the subject Schulz's face was out of keeping with the will now be duly and properly considered, rest; that Mr. Schulz's own natural expres and reflected upon by the scores of young sion, which you observe that you could men who are seeking places in the editorial “trace clearly enough beneath the new one, department of newspapers, and that they until the intense light of the lamps was cast will perceive the folly and misapplication of upon it," was the only one which his face their talents and energies when they em- ever really indicates, because the only one bark in a profession in which they will be consistent with itself. But ordinary spectasubjected to such severe tests, without the tors are not Lavaters, and give free reins to strongest assurances and conviction of their imaginations in interpreting human their ability to meet all its demands in a expression, from the want of sufficient knowlcreditable and efficient manner.

edge of its subtle varieties to hold them in check.

The secret of the whole effect is, I sus pect, spoken in your own observations upon the apparant change of expression produced

by slight changes of accessories in forms of From the Spectator.

countenance otherwise absolutely unaltered,

namely,“ how much our natural interpreta-. CHARACTER AND EXPRESSION. tion of the meaning of certain lines and attiTo the Editor of the Spectator. context in which we find them, which is

tudes of the face depends . . . on the Sır, - I have not seen the curious enter-made [i.e., taken occasion of by our imagintainment by Mr. Ernst Schulz which has ation) to suggest to us an interpretation of led to the interesting remarks on “ The its own.” Mr. Schulz is no doubt very Clothes of the Mind" in your current num- clever in conjur og with the signs of charber, but taking your account of the effects acter, but the true magician is in ourselves. produced to be Mithful, it seems to me that March 4, 1867.

E. V. N.

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From the Eclectic. own. The study of science usually awakens

in ordinary minds little interest, until it deBIR JOHN HERSCHELS ESSAYS.*

finitely answers some cui bono question

until it is shown to be related to some imIt is really very pleasing to find such a mediate increase of worldly fortune ; while, man as Sir John Herschel publishing such a meantime, it is pushing its experiments and volume as this; a little collection of most observations upon regions of thought and readable, and to ordinarily cultured minds, discovery, which perhaps few learn to resimple papers ; opening up some of the great gård as interesting; but which produce in vistas and results, and further speculations the mind, hovering even momentarily in of modern science, from the pen of one of their peighbourhood, impressions of prothe chief scientific sages of our day – him- foundest wonder and awe – perbaps it is self occupied in those deeper and wider the case that most persons have some fear of fields of mathematical and scientific thought, science, apd scientific results - religious, but in which only savants and sages can accom- partially educated people cherish a trempany him. Sir Jobn Herschel has long de bling, and hesitating dread, under the imserved and received this double meed of pression that science will, in the end, desgratitude; he is not only known and revered poil the soul of some of its most cherished as a distinguished veteran in the ranks of conclusions, and essential hopes ; and we bethe higher observers and discoverers, but as lieve the best cure for such fears is to accusthe author of that priceless little book, which tom the mind to come often and reverently is still unique as a piece of healthful reading face to face with those results of number, and disipline, for minds first exercising calculation, enquiry, and observation which themselves in clear and right thinking may certainly infinitely enlarge the horizon The Discourse on Natural Philosophy,t and of human knowledge, but which, inasmuch that other equally valuable and invaluable, as they only increase the fullness and intenas an introduction to the subject to which it sity of human consciousness, and serve to refers, his discourse on Astronomy. The vol- enlarge the perception man has of the bounume before us is of a much more miscella- daries of his own powers and spiritual being, Deous character, but it is written in a like can dever, by a really thoughtful mind, be popular and entertaining manner, and is regarded as his foes. All the papers in this composed of lectures given to village au- volume seen to have such an influence on diences and Mechanics Institutions, or pa- the mind; none of them can be read for the pers contributed to Good Words, or other purposes of mere amusement; sensational such magazines. There is something, we say, excitement and scientific discovery can very right and healthful in such a man never be regarded as exactly twins, but teaching the more rudimentary principles of there is a marvel felt in the mind, which science to the people ; for it is to be regret- even tingles along the perves and through ted that readers in general seldom feel inte the blood, and produces upon the spirit rested in scientific in subjects, except in the even what may be called a sensation of rapmatter of merely professional routine; the ture and wonder; and if less human than almost infinite conclusions upon which men than some of the miserable plots and counof science are occupying themselves

, the terplots which go to make up man's concepboundless fields which open on every hand, tion of romance, yet wing the spirit with a are, in general almost unknown; while even sense of the wonderfulness of nature's ways, scientific men themselves, it is to be thought, more wildly and marvelously romantic than permit themselves to follow one particular anything which even Dante could, dream, line of rail, and take partial views of the or Doré describe. “ That only is little,” universe - failing, in the routine and per- says our author," which cannot rise to great sistency of their own particular department conceptions." One of the highest marks of of enquiry, to perceive the great correlations an extended civilisation is the creation of of other departments lying outside of their want and desires higher than material gra

tification, and the desire of “extending * Familiar Lectures on Scientific Subjects. By Bir knowledge for the sake of knowing ; the craJohn F. w. Herschel, Bart., K.M., &o., &c. Alex. vings after a larger grasp, a clearer insight, ander Strahan.

If we had the honour of speaking to Sir John a more complete conception in all its relaHerschel, we would take the liberty to beg him to tions, of the wondrous universe of which we publish in these, his later, ripe, and still we are glad form a part.” And Sir John, in the paper ble compendium, which, published about forty years nishes us at once with one of the most sinlarged, and revised edition of this beautiful and no on Celestial Measurings and Weighings, fursince, has never been retouched. We are not aware if it be now in priut.

gular and beautiful illustrations both of this

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