terested and patriotic soldier more than the biogra- | pher of Judge Chase. He loved him from the cradle to this hour. It is said, that he denied the fact in an address, which he delivered on the spot, when paying his last visit to America; and, therefore, the reviewer says it is certainly incorrect, and of course becomes an undesigned imputation on the patriotism of his fellow-soldiers. Be that as it may, the testimony of Washington cannot be set aside; the very letter of the highly respectable colonel, acting on behalf of his constituents, is before our eyes-it contains the distinct proposition, which is rejected by the father of his country in most decisive terms. The case is closed. These documents-canonized by the lapse of more than fiftysix years-sent down to posterity, by him whom the nations of the earth universally call great, as abiding proof of his lofty and incorruptible integrity and patriotism-cannot be nullified by the unsupported assertion even of the excellent and noole Lafayette. He was mistaken : no more. THE BIOGRAPHER OF JUDGE CHASE. Frederick, August, 1838. And its thin eye-lids fell so gently o'er The mother lowly bowed, That trickled down her cheek, and the deep sigh THE DYING CHILD. BY C. M. F. DEEMS. It was the holy hour of evening: The sun had set behind the western hills, Yet daylight, ling'ring, kissed their lofty tops, And bathed their summits with its mellowed light. The earth sent up to Heaven its vesper hymn, Upon the pinions of the evening breeze: The little streamlet gently rippled on, As tho' it would not break the harmony, Whose modulations hung around its course. It cannot be that such sweet melody Would make a discord in the other world, Where angels tune their golden harps to praise. The softness of its notes would mingle with The hallowed sounds that float amid the groves Of Paradise, but as a younger sister. It was at such a holy hour as this, There lay the infant in the arms of death. The veins that coursed their purple streams across A gossamer's web upon the lily's leaf; NOTES ON THE WESTERN STATES; Containing Descriptive Sketches of their Soil, Climate, Resour. ces and Scenery. By James Hall, author of "Border Tales," &c. Philadelphia: 1838. By far the greater part of the region of country, of which this work is descriptive, once belonged to Virginia. This single fact, would of itself impart an interest to this volume, among the inhabitants of the "Old Dominion." But there are other considerations of deeper import, which give an importance to all that relates to the west. It is there, that in little more than half a century, an empire has sprung, not only into existence, but a vigorous manhood, The west can hardly be said to have had a youth. Within a period, less than is usually required to take the first steps in planting a colony, an extended region has been peopled with millions of inhabitants, free, enterprising and independent. An immense avalanche of human beings, gathered from the Atlantic states and from Europe, has been gravitated upon the valley of the lakes, the Ohio and the Mississippi, carrying with them the intelligence, the arts and the social comforts of communities, highly elevated in the scale of civilization. If the agriculture, commerce and manufactures-the systems of education, moral and intellectual-the roads, canals, and numerical strength of this region, be viewed in connection with the period that has elapsed since the smoke of the lone wigwam proclaimed that its soil was pressed by none but a savage foot, the mind is lost in amazement. In vain may the history of nations be searched for a parallel case: the record of the world contains nothing that may be compared to it. More than this need not be said, to invest every attempt to depict the great and growing west, with a deep and abiding interest. The work before us, is embraced in one volume of 300 pages. It makes no claim to present a scientific exposition of the geography, history, or physical condition of the country which it describes. Its chapters constitute a series of familiar sketches of the soil, climate, resources, scenery and business of the west, drawn principally from personal observation-the author having, we are informed, resided in different parts of the west, for near a quarter of a century. These sketches, written with that spirit and gracefulness of manner, which are characteristic of the author's pen, abound with just that kind of information which is acceptable to the general reader, and especially important to those the number, we are compelled to say, is far from being a small one--who, taking leave of other lands, are pushing their barks into the great tide of western emigration, and seeking, in the fair and fertile plains of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and Michigan, a new and more inviting field of active enterprise. We shall endeavor to sustain our opinion of the value of the work, by such short extracts as may properly be crowded into an article for a monthly magazine. In speaking of the soil and mineral resources of this region, the author says: "Neither is there any supernatural fertility in our soil, which yields its rich returns only under the operation of careful and laborious tillage. It is the great breadth and continuity of our fertile surface, which gives to the west its superior advantages. It is the accumulation within one wide and connected plain, of the most vast resources of agricultural and commercial wealth; and the facilities afforded by our country, for concentrating and using an unlimited amount of wealth, and bringing into combined action the energies of millions of industrious human beings, on which are based the broad foundations of our greatness. With the breadth of an empire, we have all the facilities of intercourse and trade, which could be enjoyed with more limited boundaries. Our natural wealth is not weakened by extension, nor our vigor impaired by division. The riches of soil, timber and minerals, are so diffused as to be everywhere abundant; and the communication between distant points is so easy, as to render the whole available. The products of the industry of millions, may be here interchanged with unparalleled ease and rapidity; and when our broad lands shall be settled, there will be a community of interest, and an intimacy of intercourse, between myriads of men, such as were never before brought under the operation of a common system of social and civil ties." A passage, descriptive of the upper portions of the Ohio river, will give the reader an idea of the graphic manner in which our author portrays natural scenery. "The river Ohio, for some distance below Pittsburg, is rapid, and the navigation interrupted in low water by chains of rocks, extending across the bed of the river. The scenery is eminently beautiful, though deficient in grandeur, and exhibiting great sameness. The hills, two or three hundred feet in height, approach the river and confine it closely on either side. Their tops have usually a rounded and graceful form, and are covered with the verdure of an almost unbroken forest. Sometimes the forest trees are so thinly scattered as to afford glimpses of the soil, with here and there a mass, or a perpendicular precipice of grey sandstone, or compact limestone, the prevailing rocks of this region. The hills are usually covered on all sides with a soil, which, though not deep, is rich. Approaching towards Cincinnati, the scenery becomes more monotonous. The hills recede froin the river, and are less elevated. The bottom lands begin to spread out from the margin of the water. Heavy forests cover the banks and limit the prospect: but the woodland is arrayed in a splendor of beauty, which renders it the chief object of attraction. Nothing can be more beautiful than the first appearance of the vegetation in the spring, when the woods are seen rapidly discarding the dark and dusky habili. ments of winter, and assuming their vernal robes. The gum tree is clad in the richest green; the dogwood and red-bud are laden with flowers of the purest white and deepest scarlet; the buckeye bends under the weight of its exuberant blossoms. The oak, the elm, the walnut, the sycamore, the beech, the hickory, and the maple, which here tower to a great height, have yielded to the sunbeams, and display their bursting buds and expanding flowers. The tulip tree waves its long branches and its yellow flowers high in the air. The wild rose, the sweetbriar, and the vine, are shooting into verdure; and, clinging to their sturdy neighbors, modestly prefer their claims to admiration, while they afford delightful promise of fruit and fra grance." In depicting the surface of the country, we find the following general remarks: "The traveller who visits our valley for the first time, advancing from the east to the Ohio river, and thence proceeding westward, is struck with the magnificence of the vegetation, which clothes the whole surface. The vast and gloomy gran deur of the forest; the gigantic size and venerable antiquity of the trees; the rankness of the weeds; the luxuriance and variety tallest branches; the parasites that hang in clusters from the of the underbrush; the long vines that climb to the tops of the boughs; the brilliancy of the foliage, and the exuberance of the fruit, all show a land teeming with vegetable life. The forest is seen in its majesty; the pomp and pride of the wilderness is here. Here is nature unspoiled, and silence undisturbed. A few years ago, this impression was more striking than at present; for now farms, villages, and even a few large towns are scattered over this region, diversifying its landscapes, and breaking in upon the characteristic wildness of its scenery. Still there are wide tracts remaining in a state of nature, and displaying all the savage luxuriance which first attracted the pioneer; and upon a general survey, its features present, at this day, to one accustomed only to thickly populated countries, the same freshness of beauty, and the same immensity, though rudeness of outline, which we have always been accustomed to associate with the idea of a western landscape. I know of nothing more splendid than a forest of the west, standing in its original integrity, adorned with the exuberant beauties of a powerful vegetation, and crowned with the honors of a venerable age. There is a grandeur in the immense size of the great trees-a richness of coloring in the foliage, superior to any thing that is known in corresponding latitudes-a wildness, and an unbroken stillness that attest the absence of man--above all, there is a vastness, a boundless extent, an uninterrupted continuity of shade, which prevents the attention from being distracted, and allows the mind to fill itself, and the imagination to realize the actual presence, and true character, of that which had burst upon it, like a vivid dream." The fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth chapters treat of the prairies of the west, which certainly present one of the most striking features in the formation and aspect of the country. The author goes somewhat at large into various writers upon the subject, and advancing his the theory of the prairies, examining the suppositions of own upon their formation. Without entering upon this mooted question, we may quote the latter. "The prairies afford a subject of curious inquiry to every traveller who visits these regions. Their appearance is novel and imposing; and he who beholds it for the first time experiences a sensation similar to that which fills the imagination at the first sight of the ocean. The wide and unlimited prospect, calls up perceptions of the sublime and beautiful; its peculiarity awakens a train of inquisitive thought. Upon the mind of an American especially, accustomed to see new land clothed with timber, and to associate the idea of a silent and tangled forest, with that of a wilderness, the appearance of sunny plains, and a diversified landscape, untenanted by man, and unimproved by art, is singular and striking. Perhaps, if our imagination were divested of the impressions created by memory, the subject would present less difficulty; and if we could reason abstractly, it might be as easy to account for the origin of a prairie as for that of a forest. "It is natural to suppose that the first covering of the earth | beauty consists in the vicinity of the surrounding margin of would be composed of such plants as arrive at maturity in the woodland, which resembles the shore of a lake, indented with shortest time. Annual plants would ripen and scatter their deep vistas, like bays and inlets, and throwing out long points, seeds, many times, before trees and shrubs would acquire the like capes and headlands; while occasionally these points appower of reproducing their own species. In the meantime, the proach so close on either hand, that the traveller passes through propagation of the latter would be liable to be retarded by a a narrow avenue or strait, where the shadows of the woodland variety of accidents-the frost would nip their tender stems in fall upon his path, and then again emerges into another praithe winter--fire would consume, or the blast shatter them--and rie. When the plain is large, the forest outline is seen in the the wild grazing animals would bite them off, or tread them far perspective, like the dim shore when beheld at a distance under foot; while many of their seeds, particularly such as from the ocean. The eye sometimes roams over the green assume the form of nuts or fruit, would be devoured by ani- meadow, without discovering a tree, a shrub, or any object in mals. The grasses, which are propagated both by the root and the immense expanse, but the wilderness of grass and flowers; by seed, are exempt from the operation of almost all these while, at another time, the prospect is enlivened by groves, casualties. Providence has, with unerring wisdom, fitted every which are seen interspersed like islands, or the solitary tree, production of nature to sustain itself against the accidents to which stands alone in the blooming desert. If it be in the spring which it is most exposed, and has given to those plants which of the year, and the young grass has just covered the ground constitute the food of animals a remarkable tenacity of life; so with a carpet of delicate green, and especially if the sun is that although bitten off and trodden, and even burned, they still rising from behind a distant swell of the plain, and glittering retain the vital principle. That trees have a similar power of seif upon the dew-drops, no scene can be more lovely to the eye. protection, if we may so express it, is evident from their present The deer is seen grazing quietly upon the plain; the bee is on existence in a state of nature. We only assume, that in the the wing; the wolf, with his tail drooped, is sneaking away to earliest stage of being, the grasses would have the advantage his covert with the felon tread of one who is conscious that he over plants less hardy and of slower growth; and that when has disturbed the peace of nature; and the grouse, feeding in both are struggling together for the possession of the soil, the flocks, or in pairs, like the domestic fowl, cover the whole surformer would at first gain the ascendency; although the latter, face--the males strutting and erecting their plumage, like the in consequence of their superior size and strength, would finally, peacock, and uttering a long, loud, mournful note, something if they should ever get possession of any portion of the soil, like the cooing of the dove, but resembling still more the sound entirely overshadow and destroy their humble rivals." produced by passing a rough finger boldly over the surface of a tambourine. The grasses, as our author supposes, having originally the ascendency over the trees, would maintain it, -by the fires which annually sweep over them destroy ing all the young timber within their range. The fact that along the small streams which run through the prairies, trees are found, is explained on the supposition that the herbage in such places remains green until late in the fall, and the soil being wet, the fire is prevented from taking effect. Thus the shrubs and young trees would escape from year to year, and finally the margins of the streams would become fringed with thickets of trees that would eventually destroy the grass, and thus grow up into forests. Those of our readers who have never seen a prairie, will be pleased with the following description, while such as have revelled amid their thick grass and brilliant flowers, will be struck with the faithfulness of the picture here given. "When the eye roves off from the green plain, to the groves robed in the most attractive hues. The rich undergrowth is in or points of timber, these also, are found to be at this season, full bloom. The red-bud, the dogwood, the crab-apple, the wild plum, the cherry, the wild rose, are abundant in all the rich lands; and the grape vine, though its blossom is unseen, fills the air with fragrance. The variety of the wild fruit, and flowering shrubs, is so great, and such the profusion of the blossoms with which they are bowed down, that the eye is regaled almost to satiety. The gaiety of the prairie, its embellishments, and the absence of the gloom and savage wildness of the forest, all contribute to dispel the feeling of lonesomeness, which usually creeps over the mind of the solitary traveller in the wilderness. Though he may not see a house, nor a human being, and is conscious that tude complete. he is far from the habitations of men, he can scarcely divest himself of the idea that he is travelling through scenes embel. lished by the hand of art. The flowers so fragile, so delicate, and so ornamental, seem to have been tastefully disposed to adorn the scene. The groves and clumps of trees appear to have been scattered over the lawn to beautify the landscape; and it is not easy to avoid the illusion of the fancy, which persuades the beholder that such scenery has been created to gratify the refined taste of civilized man. Europeans are often re"The scenery of the prairie country excites a different feel-minded of the resemblance of this scenery to that of the extening. The novelty is striking, and never fails to cause an ex- sive parks of noblemen, which they have been accustomed to clamation of surprise. The extent of the prospect is exhilarat- admire, in the old world; the lawn, the avenue, the grove, the ing. The outline of the landscape is sloping and graceful. copse, which are there produced by art, are here prepared by The verdure and the flowers are beautiful: and the absence of nature; a splendid specimen of massy architecture, and the shade, and consequent appearance of a profusion of light, pro-distant view of villages, are alone wanting to render the simili. duces a gaiety which animates the beholder. It is necessary to explain that these plains, although preserving a general level in respect to the whole country, are yet in themselves not flat, but exhibit a gracefully waving surface, swelling and sinking with an easy slope, and a full, rounded outline, equally avoiding the unmeaning horizontal surface, and the interruption of abrupt or angular elevations. It is that surface, which in the expressive language of the country, is called rolling, and which has been said to resemble the long heavy swell of the ocean, when its waves are subsiding to rest after the agitation of a storm. It is to be remarked also, that the prairie is almost always ele-ness, and shoots up to the height of eight or nine feet, throwvated in the centre, so that in advancing into it from either side, you see before you only the plain, with its curved outline marked upon the sky, and forming the horizon; but on reaching the highest point, you look around upon the whole of the vast scene. The attraction of the prairie consists in its extent, its carpet of verdure and flowers, its undulating surface, its groves, and the fringe of timber by which it is surrounded. Of all these, the latter is the most expressive feature-it is that which gives character to the landscape, which imparts the shape, and marks the boundary of the plain. If the prairie be small, its greatest "In the summer, the prairie is covered with long, coarse grass, which soon assumes a golden hue, and waves in the wind like a ripe harvest. Those who have not a personal knowledge of the subject, would be deceived by the accounts which are published of the height of the grass. It is seldom so tall as travellers have represented, nor does it attain its highest growth in the richest soil. In the low wet prairies, where the substratum of clay lies near the surface, the centre or main stem of this grass, which bears the seed, acquires great thick ing out a few long, coarse leaves or blades; and the traveller often finds it higher than his head as he rides through it on horseback. The plants, although numerous and standing close together, appear to grow singly and unconnected, the whole force of the vegetative power expanding itself upwards. But in the rich undulating prairies, the grass is finer, with less of stalk, and a greater profusion of leaves. The roots spread and interweave so as to form a compact, even sod, and the blades expand into a close thick sward, which is seldom more than eighteen inches high, and often less, until late in the season, As boundaries, nor to divide the proceeds of the sales of these lands among the state governments. The twelfth chapter, which treats of western steamboats, presents, perhaps, as forcible an illustration of the wonderful growth of the west, as any other in the book. In 1794, four keel boats, carrying twenty tons each, were sufficient for the trade between Pittsburg and Cincinnati. These had an armed force on board to defend them, and were pushed up the stream by poles. Down to the year 1817, nearly all the business on the western waters, was carried on in keel boats and barges. At that period "about twenty of the latter, averaging one hundred tons each, comprised the whole commer cial facilities for transporting merchandize from New Orleans to the upper country;' each of these performed one trip down and up again to Louisville and Cincinnati within the year. The number of keel boats when the seed-bearing stem shoots up. The first coat of grass is mingled with small flowers; the violet, the bloom of the straw berry, and others of the most minute and delicate texture. the grass increases in size, these disappear, and others, taller and more gaudy, display their brilliant colors upon the green surface; and still later, a larger and coarser succession rises with the rising tide of verdure. A fanciful writer asserts that the prevalent color of the prairie flowers, is in the spring, a bluish purple; in midsummer red; and in the autumn yellow. This is one of the notions that people get, who study nature by the fire side. The truth is, that the whole of the surface of these beautiful plains, is clad throughout the season of verdure, with every imaginable variety of color, from 'grave to gay. It is impossible to conceive a more infinite diversity, or a richer profusion which forms the beautiful ground, and relieves the exquisite brilliancy of all the others. The only changes of color, observed at the different seasons, arise from the circumstance, that in the spring the flowers are small, and the colors delicate; as the heat becomes more ardent, a hardier race appears, the flowers attain a greater size, and the hue deepens; and still later a succession of coarser plants rise above the tall grass, throwing employed on the upper Ohio cannot be ascertained, but out larger and gaudier flowers. As the season advances from it is presumed, that a hundred and fifty, is a sufficiently spring to midsummer, the individual flower becomes less beauti- large calculation to embrace the whole number. These ful when closely inspected, but the landscape is far more varie-averaged thirty tons each, and employed one month to of hues, or to detect any predominating tint, except the green, gated, rich and glowing. "In winter, the prairies present a gloomy and desolate scene. The fire has passed over them, and consumed every vegetable substance, leaving the soil bare, and the surface perfectly black. That gracefully waving outline, which was so attractive to the eye when clad in green, is now disrobed of all its ornaments. Its fragrance, its notes of joy, and the graces of its landscape have all vanished, and the bosom of the cold earth, scorched and discolored, is alone visible. The wind sighs mournfully over the black plain; but there is no object to be moved by its influence not a tree to wave its long arms in the blast, nor a reed to bend its fragile stem--not a leaf, nor even a blade of grass to tremble earth and the bare mound, which move not--and the traveller, with a singular sensation, almost of awe, feels the blast rushing over him, while not an object visible to the eye, is seen to stir. Accustomed as the mind is to associate with the action of the wind its operation upon surrounding objects, and to see nature bowing and trembling, and the fragments of matter mounting upon the wind, as the storm passes, there is a novel effect produced on the mind of one who feels the current of air rolling heavily over him, while nothing moves around." in the breeze. There is nothing to be seen but the cold dead make the voyage from Louisville to Pittsburg, while the more dignified barge of the Mississippi made her trip in the space of one hundred days, if no extraordinary accident happened to check her progress." There are now, 1838, not less than FOUR HUNDRED steamboats navigating the western waters! Comment is unnecessary. The mind is lost in astonishment at the wonderful revolution that has taken place in twenty years, throughout the valley of the Mississippi. The thirteenth and last chapter of the work, relates to the trade and commerce of the west, embracing the exports and imports for a series of years—a list of the banks in Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana and Illinois-some statistics of the Miami canal, and a list of the steamboats navi gating the Louisville and Portland canal during the year 1837, amounting to four hundred and twelve, and passing in the aggregate, during that year, fifteen hundred times through the same; another fact illustrative of the vast resources and business of the west. The author examines in detail, the soil, water and timber of the prairies, and the question how far the The length of our extracts from this interesting and want of the latter is likely to interfere with the agri- valuable book, leave us no room for further notices of it. cultural occupancy of these treeless plains. The chap- Although not in point of literary merit equal to some ters upon the wild and domestic animals, the birds, rep- other of the author's works, it is written with sufficient tiles, agricultural products, fruits and vegetables, possess accuracy and care for a series of popular sketches of the much valuable information, and present many facts region which it describes. It bears its own evidence of well calculated to invite immigration to that region, coming from the same pen which conducted the Illinois One of the longest and most elaborated chapters in the Magazine, and wrote the "Legends of the West," book, is that which treats of the public domain, by "Harper's Head," and "The Border Tales;" all of which is meant the lands belonging to the general which have been widely circulated in the United government. This subject is embraced under these States, and have placed the author among the most two heads-the title of the United States to the public spirited and popular writers of the day. It would lands, and the policy pursued in disposing of them. seem, by the bye, that Judge Hall is most indefatiga. The intelligent reader must be already familiar with all ble with his pen. He has been for some time, and still that relates to the history of the former. The proper is, engaged, in conjunction with Col. McKenny, in disposition of these lands is a matter of much impor- writing the biographical sketches, which accompany tance, and for several years past has occupied the that splendid gallery of Indian portraits, now in proattention of Congress, where it has caused much angry debate, and elicited many conflicting opinions. Judge Hall favors the plan of Colonel Benton, to graduate the price of the public lands, by offering them periodically at reduced prices-the highest being one dollar and twenty-five cents per acre--and the lowest twenty-five cents; but he does not favor the proposition to cede to the states, respectively, the lands lying within their gress of publication in Philadelphia; and yet, in the midst of all his literary labors, he is performing the duties of cashier of one of the principal banking institu tions of Cincinnati. It would appear, indeed, as if the men of letters in the United States, were resolved upon convincing the world that literature and the every-day business of life are not antagonist professions. Pauld ing is at the head of the Navy-Bryant is engaged in that most unpoetical of all human pursuits, the editing | is nearly powerless; its harp tuneless; its spirit of a violent politico-partizan newspaper-Halleck is tame; its wing unfitted to sustain either a long or still in the "sugar and the cotton line," footing up bold flight into the regions of the imagination: accounts for John Jacob Astor-Kennedy is making without these, poetry, like too much of our native out briefs, and looking after the President's sub-treasury poetry, becomes, of necessity, a mere assemblage bill in Congress-Fay is playing Secretary of Legation of agreeable words and pleasant sounds; a wilderat the Court of St. James-and Hall is signing bank notes and drawing bills of exchange in Cincinnati. ness of beautiful verbiage; piles of fern and flowVerily, the time cometh, and now is, when the foolish ers destitute of fragrance-the mere abstract only of all that is beautiful in nature, wherewith the popular prejudice, which has obtained some currency in this country, that the cultivation of a literary taste, imagination is pleased, without being improved, unfits a man for the forum, the desk, or the counting- while the heart remains untouched. room, must be added to the "receptacle of things lost upon earth." BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF LIVING AMERICAN POETS AND NOVELISTS. GEORGE P. MORRIS, ESQ. It is the lot of the American poet to be cradled in the lap of the sublimest scenery on the globe. From infancy to manhood, his path is beside illimitable lakes and majestic rivers, whose shores are granite mountains, and he hunts his game along hillsides whose summits are resting places for the thunder-cloud. If all that is grand and magnificent, or soft and beautiful in nature, has power to expand the human heart, enlarge the intellect, strengthen the imagination, refine and spiritualize the fancy, and fire the whole man with the loftiest and purest poetical images-if the contemplation of the poetry of the universe, will make poetry to spring up in the heart, then should America be the Eden of poetry, and her poets princes in the empire of song. But from the study of natural scenery alone, the poet cannot derive inspiration; it were the contemplation of the statue of Prometheus before animated with celestial fire-the arch of the rainbow without its colors. There must be perched on the ragged pinnacle, hovering on the mountain's brow, suspended from every crag, and dwelling in glen and fountain, the magical charm of past-time associations, around which the memory can linger-there must be a genius loci every where present, for natural scenery, however grand and picturesque in itself, to produce its natural and legitimate poetical effect on the mind. It is from a consciousness of this deficiency of historical and traditionary interest, that some of our best poets have imitated or assumed the English and Italian school, not only in the direction and application of their powers, but also, (which herein need not have been) in their natural images. How often and familiarly are the nightingale, the field daisy, the sky lark, the harvest moon, the turtle dove, with castle, knight, and troubadour, drawn into the service of what is meant to be legitimate American verse, when they are exclusively foreign figures and subjects; and how frequently is the "olden ballad" the prideful theme of our native poets! If America is ever to rank high as a land of poesy, (which from an inspection of its elements we do not believe it ever will do,) and should cultivate the native muse, pruned from foreign shoots and grafts, it is in moral and didactic, rustic and lyric poetry, she will found her claims to distinction. The lofty epic, and the legitimate ballad, have no place in her native muse: the former is now found only in the pages of the historical novelist; the latter being, genuinely, a metrical relation of some ancient tradition, can have no place in a land yet too young for gray tradition and hoary legend. In the progress of these sketches, we shall enter more fully into this subject; at present, lyrical poetry, the last of the four just named, alone comes under our consideration in this paper. To lyric poets, and lyric poetry, America is mainly indebted for much of her existing fame. We have neither space nor leisure, here to support by the facts that are by us, this bold assertion; but any one who will impartially review the history of our imaginative literature for the last half century, will find the proofs numerous and satisfactory. Since Moore's elegant and graceful muse has elevated modern lyrics to a dignity in literature, they had not enjoyed from the days of the troubadours, poets, tuning their lyre to song, have sprung up on both sides of the Atlantic. One among the This genius of the place is wanting to American scenery: the blood-stirring border song; the wild traditionary legend of love and chivalry; the wondrous tale of superstition and fairy, and the thou-few in the United States, whose verses are housesand romantic associations, that hover like ghosts from the spiritual land of minstrelsy, about the vallies and mountains of the old world, inspiring his tuneful sons, are wanting as auxiliaries to the American muse: without these, the wand of poesy hold words, and whose numbers have become a part of the language, is the gentleman whose name we have placed at the head of this sketch. Col. Morris has long been connected with American literature, as editor of the New York |