"Far as seraphic power could lift the eye, And earth, in one vast level, bounds the skies." If I had not extended my observations on the body of this work to an unusual length, I should feel that considerable attention was due to the preface and the notes. They abound in original matter, and cannot but excite the deepest reflection. In the preface, and likewise in a note on the 10th book, we find some very just remarks on the moral tendency, of several of the most famous poems, and on the general spirit in which history has been written. The preface takes notice," that modern modes of fighting, as well as the instruments now used in war, are not yet rendered familiar in our language," though he contends that there is no good reason for our timidity or reserve in the use of such terms; that we are really richer than the ancients were in this respect, having better sounding names, and more variety in the instruments, works, stratagems, and other artifices in our war system than they had in theirs. Accordingly he has been free in the use of all these modern military terms, and we think the experiment has perfectly succeeded. I am convinced with him, that there is as much dignity and harmony in the words, gun, musket, bayonet, pistol, cannon, shell, mortar, platoon, brigade; as in spear, shield, helmet; greaves, bow, shaft, sling, cohort, and phalanx. In his note on Mr. West, the painter, he asserts (with how much justice I will not determine), that this artist is the first who introduced modern costume, and rendered it familiar in historical painting. With equal, if not greater truth, it may now be said, that Mr. B. has introduced and familiarized modern military terms in heroic poetry. Whether he thought of emulating his countryman in this respect, I know not, but his design was equally bold; and it promises to be equally successful with that of the painter, which is said to have produced a revolution in the art. The note in the 5th book on the British colonization exemplifies in a memorable manner the effect of habitual feelings of liberty. The free-born spirit that goes forth with the young colony becomes more conspicuous, aims at higher objects, and sustains a greater growth of national prosperity than it could do in the mother country, though as free as England. The contrast the author draws between our system and that of other modern nations, which have sent colonies abroad, does honour to his liberality, and is an equal tribute of respect to our Country and his own. Indeed this is not the only instance in which the English nation is highly complimented in the work before me. I am happy to see it, because it is more than certain other writings of Mr. B. had taught me to expect. in the 2nd book there is a note on the graphic art, occasioned by a view of the hieroglyphics of Mexico. It is the result of deep reflection, and leads to some uncommon conclusions with respect to the early unstoried ages of human society. There are several other philosophical notes, which, for their original vein of thinking, and the very perspicuous and unaffected manner of holding up his thoughts to his readers, cannot fail of fixing their attention, if not their approbation. Mr. B.'s prose style is remarkable for its harmony and eloquence. He has likewise attained a degree of purity, so far superior to any other of his countrymen, whose writings we have seen, that, were it not for the danger of giving offence to him, or them, I should perhaps ascribe it to his long residence in this country. I intended, however, when I began this article, to notice a few oddities in his orthography and his neology. He is so sensible of having laid himself open to animadversion in this respect, that he has written a postscript to his notes in justification of the liberties he has taken with our language. But as he has explained himself fully on this subject, I will only add a word of regret at seeing a disposition in American writers for innovating so fast in our common national language, as must in a few generations more produce an irreconcilable dialect. Such a tendency is certainly to be deprecated; and I am sorry to find, that so great an example as Mr. B.'s writings must prove to his countrymen should have given countenance to these innovations, ORIGINAL POETRY FOR THE PORT FOLIO. LINES ON AN ERUPTION OF MOUNT ETNA. THE following lines, on an eruption of Mount Etna, are the composition of a boy, a native of Philadelphia, who is only nine years and five months old. They are not presented to the patrons of The Port Folio as a specimen of fine writing. To excellence like this, even the most partial of judges, will not pretend that they have any claim. When considered, however, as the production of a mere child, a playful school-boy, whom we would expect to find whipping his top, elevating his kite, or shooting his marbles, rather than clambering up the steeps of Parnassus; when, considered, as issuing from such an infantile source, we cannot doubt of their exciting a lively interest in the bosom of every liberal reader. The vigour and elevation of thought, the pregnancy of imagery, and the bold command of language they exhibit, hold forth a promise, which, if realized by future cultivation and industry, may yet add a star of no common lustre to the galaxy of American genius and literature. It is not pretended that he following infantile effusion appears now precisely as it came from the pen, or rather tongue of its little author. On the other hand, it is true, that some degree of corrective aid was afforded. In the first five stanzas, however, this aid was so very trifling, that, were it not for the sake of giving a candid statement, it would not be worthy of being mentioned. It consisted merely in a few verbal alterations, without affecting, in the slightest degree, either the ideas, or the texture of the verse. The credit of these, whatever it may be, belongs exclusively to the infant author. In the second, third, and fourth stanzas no alteration whatever has been made. They appear now, in the precise words, in which they were originally dictated. In the first and fifth stanzas, five words have been altered, but the primary ideas are faithfully retained. In the composition of the last stanza, which will be observed to exhibit more abstraction, and a greater condensation of thought, than either of the others, it must be acknowledged that the little votary of the Muses received assistance. It is due to him, however, to add, that its appearance in print along with the rest, meets his disapprobation. For he is of too proud and independent a spirit, and is actuated by too strict a sense of justice, to receive, much more to claim, credit for what is not his own. As it is conceived, that the composition of this little poem is calculated to shed some light on the effect of physical circumstances on the human intellect, it is hoped that the following brief statement will not be unacceptable. For a few days previously to composing it, the infant author had been affected with an inflammation of one of his eyes. For the removal of this he had been confined to a dark chamber, perfect rest had been enjoined, and a low diet prescribed. Thus debarred from two of his principal pleasures, the use of exercise, and the enjoyment of light, he concluded that it would be no additional restraint, to lie in bed, which he accordingly did. Under these privations, he amused himself and beguiled the time, by a recitation, almost incessant, of select passages from Shakspeare, Pope, Young, Thomson, Gray, and other British poets of high standing. In this state of perfect abstraction from all external objects, self collected, and fired by a vivid recollection of a rich variety of poetic imagery, his mind was the more highly impregnated, and the better prepared for the maiden effort it was about to make. Most of the lines were composed with rapidity and ease. They appeared like the spontaneous ebullitions of a heated and an overflowing mind. As the little author was still under medical restrictions, he was unable to write them himself, and was, therefore, obliged to engage an amanuensis, to whom, with the exceptions already stated, he dictated precisely as follows: When Etna's dreadful throat begins to roar, Th' impetuous torrent nothing can withstand, Thick smoke and flames, so dismal to be seen, The burning lava, from the mountain's sides, It makes the deep to boil, and lash the shore, Neptune, the sovereign sea-compelling god, Such are the dire effects of Etna's rage, Forth bursts the stream, earth trembles with the throw, T. L. C. FOR THE PORT FOLIO. Lines on visiting the Exchange Coffeehouse in Boston. Where Roman grandeur blends with Grecian grace. While round, the Arts their varying beauties wind, But, leading thence, what gayer scene unfolds! Descending thence, that smiling scene invites, • The Exchange Room, sixty by forty-three feet in dimensions, occupies the centre of the building, and is surrounded by five galleries, the two lower of which are supposted by Doric pillars, the third and fourth by pillars of the Ionic, and the fifth by those of the Corinthian order. Shops and offices of various kinds open on the lower galleries. The ceiling of the ball-room consists of three distinct and beautiful domes, which, far from injuring, greatly add to the effect of the music. And kind Affection wakes her warmest fires, THOU! by whose genius, mid a world of woes, Oh happiest thou, though not a laurel thine, MANTO. FOR THE PORT FOLIO. THE LOVER'S DREAM. WHY, whispering breezes, why disturb my dream! Kind dream! methought with Emily I stray'd, Methought we rov'd through flow'r-enwoven vales, Fann'd by the wings of odour-breathing gales, Forgetful of the world, and worldly care! Her eyes looked love; from her mellifluous tongue Such sweetness breath'd as if an Angel sung, Or lovers dream, but angels only hear! VOL. I. 3 к |