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No. 1016.-21 November, 1863.
1. A Handful of Hawthorne,
339 2. The God of Earthquakes,
341 3. Mr. Hawthorne on England,
344 4. Henry Ward Beecher at Manchester,
348 5. Life and Writings of Thomas Hood,
361 6. Seizure of the Steam Rams,
381 7. Lord Brougham on the American War, and the French Occupation of Mexico,
National Anti-Slavery Standard, 383 POETTY.-Weariness, 338. October, 338. A Bird at Sunset, 338. Scylla and Charybdis, 338. Guest at the Guards' Ball, 360.
Short ARTICLES.-Wash for Walls, 340. Spots on White Marble, 340. Literary Intelligence, 340, 343, 347. Robinson Crusoe's Cup and Chest, 343. What is a Fog ? 343. President Lincoln on Shakspeare, 347.
MR. BEECHER IN GREAT BRITAIN. Every loyal American, whatever his opinions respecting the past words and acts of Henry Ward Beecher, will thank him for his work across the water. It is no exaggeration to affirm that the five speeches he has delivered,-in Manchester, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Liverpool, and London,--each pursuing its own line of argument and appeal, have done more for our cause in England and Scotland than all that has been before said or written. Mr. Beecher possesses the faculty, beyond any other living American, of combining close, rapid, powerful, practical reasoning with intense passion. His mind is always aglow with his subject, and whatever comes from it, even if it does not flash conviction, is almost sure to kindle sympathy. This, combined with his marvellous power of illustration-marvellous alike for its intense vividness and its unerring pertinency—and with his great flexibility, whereby he adapts himself completely to the exigency of the instant, gives him a rare command over a common audience. Even those who hate, can't help. admiring, and those most steeled with prejudice have to wince in spite of themselves.
No better proof of the power of Mr. Beecher’s eloquence need be had than the immense efforts made by the rebel sympathizers, after his first speeches, to shut his lips by force. . . And yet how well he has sustained himself . It was a grand spectacle—in St. George's Hall
, Liverpool-when he struggled two livelong hours against that raging sea of insult, taunt, irony, impertinent questioning, blackguardism, curses, hisses, cat-calls, stampings, hootings, yellings—every possible manifestation of hate, every possible form of disorder—a brave sight, we say, this strong-winged bird of the storm matching his might against it—now soaring up to overcome it-now sinking down to undermine it—now dashing in its teeth—now half-choked in the gust of its fury, but always moving onward, and in the end riding triumphant on the very crest of its wildest billows. There has not been a more heroic achievement on any of our fields of battle than the successful delivery of that speech against the odds which opposed it.
It is plain, from the whole tone of the British press, that Mr. Beecher has been instrumental in starting, or at least in hastening, a complete revolution of the popular feeling of the kingdom in favor of our national cause. There is no longer any obstacle to our receiving the friendly advances of the British people with entire good-will. Nobody but an enemy of his race can doubt that it is better that the two great free powers of the world should be friends rather than enemies. Every man who, without sacrifice of principle, promotes this end, is a benefactor. Mr. Beecher, in doing this, while at the same time vindicating our national cause with unflinching spirit, has entitled himself to the gratitude of every right-hearted American.-N. Y. Times.
A BIRD AT SUNSET.
BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.
BY OWEN MEREDITH.
O LITTLE feet, that such long years
Must ache and bleed beneath your load !
Am weary, thinking of your road. O little hands, that, weak or strong, Have still to serve or rule so long,
Have still so long to give or ask ! I, who so much with book and pen Have toiled among my fellow-men,
Am weary, thinking of your task.
Wild bird, that wingest wide the glimmering
moors, Whither, by belts of yellowing woods away? What pausing sunset thy wild heart allures
Deep into dying day ? Would that my heart, on wings like thine, could
pass Where stars their light in rosy regions loseA happy shadow o’er the warm brown grass,
Falling with falling dews ! Hast thou, like me, some true love of thine own,
In fairy-lands beyond the utmost seas ; Who there, unsolaced, yearns for thee alone,
And sings to silent trees ! Oh, tell that woodbird that the summer grieves,
And the suns darken and the days grow cold ; And tell her, love will fade with fading leaves,
And cease in common mould.
O little hearts, that throb and beat
Such limitless and strong desires ! Mine, that so long has glowed and burned, With passions into ashes turned,
Now covers and conceals its fires.
O little souls, as pure and white
Direct from heaven, their source divine !
- Atlantic Monthly.
Fly from the winter of the world to her!
Fly, happy bird ! I follow in thy flight, Till thou art lost o’er yonder fringe of fir
In baths of crimson light.
My love is dying far away from me.
She sits and saddens in the fading west. For her I mourn all day, and pine to be
At night upon her breast. [See Bryant's “Whither midst Falling Dew."-Living Age.]
SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS.
What care we for falling leaves
Song birds flying,
Cheerily, so cheerily !
Tenderly, so tenderly !
Bertold our trusty Pilot, Jack,
Between two whirlpools steering, And, whilst from Scylla drawing back,
Charybdis deftly clearing. Not winds around his bark that sweep,
Not roaring waves affright him, Nor sharks, nor monsters of the deep,
That grin and threat to bite him.
Disturb with giddy terror,
Or starboard, into error,
Towards the stars upraising,
Its eyes like meteors blazing.
What though friends like autumn leaves
Seem to fail us,
Or assail us-
Steadily, so steadily !
Its tail, half severed from its head,
With dire contortions lashes The billows into foam, blood-red,
Which mess our Pilot splashes. Yet holds he on his middle course,
And does not swerve or blunder, But leaves the Snake with its own force To writhe itself asunder.
From Punch.* We are pleased with you, too, on another A HANDFUL OF HAWTHORN. point. You stick at nothing, and we like
earnestness. Not content with smashing up NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE, author of the Scarlet Letter and the House with the Seven our male population in the most everlasting Gables (you see we at once endeavor to create manner, you make the most savage onslaught
This will be doubly pleasa prejudice in your favor), you are a 'cute upon our women. man of buisness besides being a pleasing countryinen. And we are the more inclined to
ant to your delicate-minded and chivalrous writer. We have often credited
with literary merit, and your style, dear boy, puts of ladies whom you have seen at a distance, or
give you credit here, because you do not write to shame a good many of our own writers who ought to write better than they do. But now
in their carriages, or from the point of view let us have the new pleasure of congratulat- at the rustle of a crinoline, and hides himself
of a shy and awkward man who sculks away ing you on showing that you are as smart a
among the ineligibles at the ball-room door. man, as much up to snuff, if
you the colloquialism, as any Yankee publisher opportunity of cultivating ladies’ society, and the colloquialisin, as any Yankee publisher Everybody knows that you have bad ample who ever cheated a British author. You have written a book about England, and into the utmost. Everybody in the world knows
have availed yourself of that opportunity to this book you have put all the caricatures and
that the gifted American Consul at Liverpool libels upon English folk, which you
is an idolizer of the ladies, and is one of the while enjoying our hospitality. Your book is
most ready, fluent, accomplished talkers of thoroughly saturated with what seems ill-na
lady-talk that ever fascinated a sofa-full of ture and spite. You then wait until the re
smiling beauties. His gay and airy entrance lations between America and England are
into a drawing-room, his pleasant assurance unpleasant, until the Yankee public desires
and graceful courtesy, his evident revel in the nothing better than good abuse of the Brit
refined atmosphere of perfume and persiflage, isher, and then, like a wise man, you cast
are proverbial, and therefore he is thoroughly your disagreeable book into the market. Now we like adroitness, even when displayed lish women. Consequently his tribute has a
acquainted with the nature and habits of Engat our own expense, and we hope that the value which would not appertain to the critibook will sell largely in America, and put no cisms of a sheepish person, either so inspired end of dollars to your account. There was with a sense of his own infinite superiority, once a person
who was said to be without guile. Most Ameri- that he edges away from a lady, flounders
or so operated on by plebeian mauvaise honte, can pedigrees are dubious, but we think you and talks nonsense when compelled to answer would have a little extra trouble to prove her, and escapes with a red face, like a clumsy your descent from Nathaniel of Israel. In a word, you are a Smart Man, and we can to do so. No, no, this is the testimony of
hobbadehoy, the moment a pause allows him hardly say anything more likely to raise you the lady-killer, the sparkling yet tender Livin the esteem of those for whom you been composing. Come, there is none of the pool Lovelace, Nathaniel Hawthorne, to the 66 insular narrowness," on which you compli
merits of our English women. ment us all, in this liberal tribute to your alike. They seem to be country. lasses of
English girls seemed to me all homely deserts. You see that in spite of what you sturdy and wholesome aspect, with coarsesay, “ these people” (the English) do not
grained, cabbage-rosy cheeks, and I am willall “ think so loftily of themselves and so con- ing to suppose, a stout texture of moral printemptuously of everybody else that it requires ciple, such as would bear a good deal of rough more generosity than you possess to keep al- usage without suffering much detriment. But ways in perfectly good-humor with them.” how unlike the trim little damsels of my naYou will have no difficulty in keeping in per- tive land! I desire above all things to be cour
teous.' fectly good-humor with us.
Courteous. Of course. How can the draw* Punch evidently disapproves of such Consuls as ing-room idol be anything but courteous ? make booksagainst the people with whom they have He simply sketches our young ladies truthbeen living
fully. Indeed he says so :tleman, late Consul at Boston ? He wrote an unpleasant book.—Living Age.
“Since the plain truth must be told, the
What was the name of the Irish Gen
soil and climate of England produce femi- moral and intellectual force than she can nine beauty as rarely as they do delicate fruit, fairly claim. Her visage is usually grim and and though admirable specimens of both are stern, seldom positively forbidding, yet calmly to be met with, they are the hothouse amel- terrible.' iorations of refined society, and apt, moreover, to relapse into the coarseness of the Calmly terrible. Is not this a momentary original stock. The men are manlike, but weakness, Nathaniel ? Can any created wothe women are not beautiful, though the fe- man be terrible to you? Away, eater of male Bull be well enough adapted to the hearts. You don't fear any matron. You male."
show it in your next passage :" The female Bull.” Cow would have been
“ You may meet this figure in the street neater, and more entertaining, perhaps, to and live, and even smile at the recollection. Broadway ; but one would not mend after a But conceive of her in a ball-room, with the master.
bare, brawny arms that she invariably disBut our matrons. We rather, in our plays there, and all the other corresponding weakness, piqued ourselves upon our matrons, maiden bloeson, but a spectacle to howl at in
development, such as is beautiful in the with what we've thought their handsome such an overblown cabbage-rose as this." faces, ready smiles, cheerful kindness, and tongues that talk freely because the hearts are Well painted, Nathaniel, with a touch innocent. Thanks to our Lovelace-Adonis, worthy of Rubens, who was we think, your we now know that we must abandon this great uncle, or was it Milton, or Thersites, superstition. Here is his sketch of the Eng- or somebody else, who, in accordance with lish married lady of middle age:
American habit, was claimed as your ances
tor. Never mind, you are strong enough in 6. She has an awful ponderosity of frame, not pulpy, like the looser development of our your own works to bear being supposed a defew fat women, but massive with solid beef scendant from a gorilla, were heraldry unand streaky tallow ; so that (though strug- kind. Mr. Punch makes you his best comgling manfully against the idea) you inevi- pliments on your smartness, and on the tably think of her as made up of steaks and gracious elegance of your descriptions of sirloins. When she walks, her advance is those with whom you are known to have been elephantine. When she sits down, it is on a
eo intimate, and he hopes that great round space of her Maker's footstool, give the world a sequel to Transformation, in
you where she looks as if nothing could ever move her. She imposes awe and respect by the the form of an autobiography. For he is muchness of her personality, to such a degree very partial to essays on the natural history that you probably credit her with far greater of half-civilized animals.
An excellent and glossy wash for the walls of In order to restore the polish of the marble rooms is thus prepared : Mix oxide of zinc with which will be impaired somewhat by the acid — common size, and apply it with a brush as ordi- take very fine whiting, and rub it over the spots nary whitewash of lime. After this, apply a wash touched. in the same manner of the chloride of zinc, which will combine with the oxide, and form a smooth cement with a shining surface. Wall-paper after a time absorbs deleterious substances and becomes unhealthy.
MESSRS. NISBET AND Co. announce “ Bp. Wilson's Journal,” letters addressed to his family
during the first nine years of his Indian episcoTo REMOVE GREASE OR INK SPOTS FROM pate, edited by his son ; « Review of Ten Years' WHITE MARBLE.—Take ounce of oxalic Missionary Labor in India, between 1852 and acid, dissolve it in a gill of water, and apply 1861,” by Dr. Mullens ; " The Rebellion in it with a clean rag or sponge, having first washed America,” by Baptist Noel ; and an authentic off the marble with soap and water. After the “ Life of Stonewall Jackson," by Professor Dab oxalic acid has been applied, and drawn out the ney of Richmond, Virginia. grease, wash it off with clean water, etc.
From The Spectator. made sensible, I do not know how, that someTHE GOD OF EARTHQUAKES. thing uncommon is going to happen ; everyThe recent earthquake at Manilla had, like thing seems to change color ; our thoughts almost all earthquakes, a very striking reli- are chained immovably down; the whole gious aspect. There is no other natural phe- world appears to be in disorder ; all nature nomenon which strikes the masses of ignorant looks different to what it was wont to do, and men as so exclusively supernatural. Mr. we feel quite subdued and overwhelmed by Buckle, as is well known, considered them some invisible power. Then comes the terone of the great sources of Spanish supersti- rible sound, distinctly heard, and immediately tion and as snapping by their imaginative the solid earth is all in motion, waving to and terrors the chain of civilization. Even the fro like the surface of the sea. Depend upon Greeks, by no means apt to take the charac-it, a severe earthquake is sufficient to shake teristic attributes of their gods from the more the firmest mind.” And, no doubt, its pheterrible of earthly events, gave to their god nomena are more apparently preternatural of the ocean, Poseidon, the epithet of the than those of any other human event. The Earthshaker ; while the Jews, possessed by a ground assumes the appearance of running truer inspiration, spoke of God as the root of water,-indeed, does transmit tidal waves as all that was most fixed and enduring—the distinctly as the ocean itself. Not only are Rock of Ages who had made the round earth valleys exalted, and hills made low, but naso fast that it cannot be moved.” Elijah was ture appears to be working out on an awful expressly taught that “ God was not in the and tragic scale the wonders of a pantomime. earthquake,” and though the Psalmists fre- After the great earthquake of Quito in 1797, quently ascribe the tumbling of the earth and many whom the earthquake surprised in the the failing foundations of the hills to His es- town of Riobamba were found as corpses on pecial wrath, yet they never fail to conclude the top of a hill separated by a river from the the picture of storm and chaos by one of peace place, and several hundred feet higher than and deliverance, and, like Elijah, see the the site of the town. The place was shown earthquake passing away before the tranquil to Humboldt where the whole furniture of one voice of divine promise. But this, as Mr. house was found buried beneath the ruins of Buckle warns us, has not prevented the close another, and it could only be accounted for by association of the earthquake with divine supposing that it had sunk into the earth at power in the Christian ages. That there is one spot, and been disgorged at that other. something in this phenomenon which, more In Calabria, 1783, whole estates were literally than any other, expresses with awful power shuffled, so that, for example, a plantation of the collapse and nothingness of human things mulberry-trees was set down in the middle is obvious enough. Even the lower animal of a cornfield, and a field of lupines was recreation perceive its approach, as some of moved into the middle of a vineyard. For them have been said to disce and quail be- several years after, lawsuits were actively fore disembodied spirits, or at the approach of carried on in the courts of Naples to reclaim death. In the earthquake at Naples, in 1805, landed property thus bodily conveyed, withthe sheep and goats rushed in dismay against out legal forms, from one man to another. their folds before any human being had felt a Who can wonder that people who thus see shock ; the dogs howled, the horses became what Englishmen emphatically call real propfurious in their stalls, the cats' hair bristled erty flying like shadows before their eyes, with terror, rabits and moles rushed from prostrate themselves before the great Earththeir holes, the birds rose scared into the air, shaker in paroxysms of fear and superstition ? the fish crowded to the shore, the ants aban- But it is not only superstition which these doned their ant-hills, the locusts crept through terrible phenomena contrive to elicit. If the streets towards the sea,—and all this be- Catholic countries did not happen to have two fore the danger became sensible to any ob- or three specially holy days in every week, it
But even men become sensible of hor- would be rather curious that the most memorror before they become sensible of danger. A able earthquakes have so often surprised the gentleman of Copiapo wrote to Captain Basil crowds kneeling in their churches and catheHall: “ Before we hear the sound, or, at drals, so that the rocking earth has availed least, are fully conscious of hearing it, we are itself, as it were, of the picturesque piety of