traces his experience while in that state of being. The pine becomes a conscious creature, reveling in the joys of its own existence, feeling the sap stir in its veins, and pour through a heart as susceptible as man's. Many poets have recalled the memories which linger around a particular tree, or, apostrophizing it, have bid it relate certain histories; but in Mr. Taylor's poem the tree speaks from within its own nature-not with the feelings of a man, not with what we might suppose would be the feel and Marco Polo! Shortly after his departure for Europe appeared his third volume of poetry, "A Book of Romances, Lyrics, and Songs." It is unquestionably his best book, and contains one or two poems worthy of any poet, living or dead. I am not certain but I would rather be the author of "The Metempsychosis of the Pine" than of any other poem yet written in America. "Mon-da-Min, or the Ro-ings of a common tree, but as a pine of many mance of Maize," "Love and Solitude," "Hylas," "Kubleh," " Ariel in the Cloven Pine," "Manuela," "Serapion," "Sorrowful Music," and the " Ode to Shelley," are all elaborate and beautiful poems. The poems and prose writings of Bayard Taylor have been widely and thoroughly reviewed, but by no one more appreciatingly than Boker, his associate, and brother in the Muses. We quote a few paragraphs from his review of the "Book of Romances, Lyrics, and Songs," partly to refute the prevailing opinion that literary men never speak well of each other, and partly because we agree with them thoroughly: "Mr. Taylor's inclinations (says Boker) are for scenes of grandeur. Sublime human actions, nature in her awful revolutionary states, the wild desolation of a mountain peak or a limitless desert, the storm, the earthquake, the cataract, these are the chief inspiration of his powers. Whatever is suggestive of high emotions that act upon his moral nature, and, in turn, are acted upon by it, forms an unconquerable incentive to his poetical exertions. Mere word-painting he has no affection for. A scene of nature, however beautiful, would be poetically valueless to him, unless it moved his feelings past the point of silent contemplation. The first poem in his volume,- Mon-da-Min, the Romance of Maize,'-affords a striking illustration of his apprehension of intellectual bravery. Through fasting that approaches starvation, unanswered prayers, and repeated discomfitures, the soul of the hero burns undimmed, and his eyes remain steadily fixed on his purpose. Physical suffering only strength ens his resolution, and defeat only nerves him to renewed efforts. Round these ideas the poet lingers with a triumphant emotion that proves his sympathies to be centered less in the outward action of the poem than in the power of the human will-a power which he conceives to be capable of overcoming even the gods themselves. We have before stated that nature, unless suggestive of some intellectual emotion, is nothing to Mr. Taylor. To arouse himself to song he must vitalize the world-must make it live, breathe, and feel-must find books in the running brooks, and sermons in stones, or brooks and stones are to him as if they had not been. In The Metempsychosis of the Pine,' this characteristic is finely displayed. The poet imagines himself to be a pine, and re centuries-and no one can mistake its voice. A nobler use of the dramatic faculty in lyrical poetry is not within our recollection. "As may be supposed, Mr. Taylor's poetry is written under the excitement of passion, and does not proceed from that laborious process of constructing effects to which a large number of poets owe their success. The consequence is, that his language is vividly metaphorical, only dealing in similes when in a comparative repose, and never going out of the way to hunt up one of those eternal likes which have emasculated our poetic style, and are fast becoming a leading characteristic of American verse to the destruction of everything like real passion. Mr. Taylor is an instructive study in this respect. He uses ten metaphors to one simile. His ideas come forth clothed in their figurative language, and do not bring it along neatly tied up in a separate bundle. From this cause there is a steady strength and genuine feeling about his poems that more than compensate for the ingenious trinkets which he despises, and leaves for the adornment of those who need them. In him imagination predominates over fancy, and the latter is always sacrificed to the former. We do not intend to say that Mr. Taylor is without fancy. Far from it; he has fancy, but it never leads him to be fanciful. His versification is polished, correct, and varibut more harmonious than melodious; that is to say, the whole rhythmical flow of his verse is more striking than the sweetness of particular lines. Some of the minor poems in his volume border on the sensuous, and in 'Hylas' he has paid a tribute to ancient fable worthy of its refined inventors; but scenes of moral and natural sublimity are those in which he succeeds best, and by them he should be characterized." ous, The following sonnet, from "The Rhymes of Travel," will give a fair idea of Bayard Taylor's general style. The reader will notice the poet's intense exultation in the thought of such scenes, and the felicity and grandeur of his diction: THE MOUNTAINS. "O deep, exulting freedom of the hills! O summits vast that to the climbing view, In naked glory stand against the blue! O cold and buoyant air, whose crystal fills Heaven's amethystine bowl! O speeding streams That foam and thunder from the cliff's below! O slippery brinks, and solitudes of snow, And granite bleakness where the vulture screams! O stormy pines that wrestle with the breath Somewhat different, but equally fine, is this extract from "Love and Solitude :" "I see the close defiles unfold flows A rivulet's silver vein, Awhile meandering in fair repose, Then caught by riven cliffs that guard our And fling upon the outer world in foam! [ peak!" A STEEL PENS. LL the steel pens made in England, and a great many of those sold in France, Germany, and America, whatever names or devices they may bear, are manufactured in Birmingham. In this respect, as in many others of the same nature, the Birmingham manufacturers are very accommodating, and quite prepared to stamp on their productions the American eagle, the cap of liberty, the effigy of Pio Nono or of the Comte de Chambord, if they get the order, the cash, or a good credit. There are eighteen steel pen manufacturers in the Birmingham Directory, and eight penholder makers. Two manufacturers employ about one thousand hands, and the other seventeen about as many more. We can most of us remember when a long hard steel pen, which required the nicest management to make it write, cost a shilling, and was used more as a curiosity, than as a useful, comfortable instrument. About 1820 or 1821 the first gross of three-slit pens was sold wholesale at £7 4s. the gross of twelve dozen. Bayard Taylor's prose is by many pre- A better article is now sold at 6d. a gross. ferred to his poetry: it is bare, concise, The cheapest pens are now sold at 2d. a and direct-bare, almost barren, in its sim- gross; the best at from 3s. 6d. to 5s.; and plicity-almost wholly devoid of imagina- it has been calculated that Birmingham tion, the chief excellence of his verse. A produces not less than a thousand million greater contrast than exists between the steel pens every year. America is the two can hardly be imagined. If each best foreign customer, in spite of a duty of could borrow the other's strong points it twenty-four per cent.; France ranks next, would, perhaps, be better for both; his for the French pens are bad and dear.poetry losing some of its gorgeousness, Chambers's Edinburgh Journal. and his prose some of its naked, sharp detail. In traveling, I should say that Bayard Taylor regards everything in detail, with a view to the putting it in description afterward. He seems to see everything, and to feel nothing. He presents a landscape, not as it appears to a poet, but a practical man of the world. If it gives him any feeling beyond that of form and color, he does not give the feeling to us; nay, what he must really have felt, to be able to describe it at all, is wanting; we see nothing but the most obvious facts. Had he the glowing outline and the ripe sensation of "Howadji” Curtis, he would be perfect. What the result of Bayard Taylor's present tour will be, remains to be seen. From the matured power of his last books, and our knowledge of the man, we predict something unusually fine. WORKING IN FAITH AND HOPE.-We live in a season of fermentation, which some deprecate as change, others hail as progress; but those who venture, as they walk on their path through life, to scatter a few seeds by the wayside in faith and charity, may at least cherish a hope that, instead of being trampled down, or withered up, or choked among thorns, they will have a chance of life at least, and of bringing forth fruit, little or much, in due season; for the earth, even by the waysides of common life, is no longer dry and barren and stony hard, but green with promise, grateful for culture; and we are at length beginning to feel that all the blood and tears by which it has been silently watered have not been shed in vain. THE COLORED ORPHAN ASYLUM. HE visitor to the "Reservoir" or the "New-York Crystal Palace" will recognize immediately in their neighborhood the edifice pictured in the above engraving, and, if the day is pleasant, his ear as well as his eye will be attracted by the jocund gambols of its little black inmates, amusing themselves with gymnastic pranks in its ample playgrounds. A more interesting charity does not exist among the numerous and truly generous provisions for the afflicted, in our city. We need hardly say that it originated in a Quaker heart. Its foundress was, we believe, Anna H. Shotwell, its present indefatigable advocate and secretary. Associating with herself a few friends, she began its scheme in much feebleness, but has lived to see it become one of the most vigorous charitable institutions of our metropolis. One of its reports details its progress. Anna Shotwell and her associates, it saysSoon found the circle of generous sympathy enlarged, new friends gradually were enlisted, and the sum of $2,000 was obtained, mostly by small subscriptions. Near the close of the year 1836 twenty-two managers were elected, some of whom still officiate, and five gentlemen were chosen as an Advisory Committee. A Constitution was adopted, as well as a set of By-Laws, and the managers now began to turn their at- A promise of $500 from the Manumission Society towards education authorized the formation of a school, to which neighboring children might be invited. A room was accordingly fitted up, and forty scholars were soon found in attendance, whom the managers instructed by turns. The utmost caution was used in the admission of orphans, supplies for their table One being obtained from interested friends. little girl of four years old was at first intro duced, others soon followed, and, as their numbers increased, the managers discovered that the means of support were proportionably provided; and up to this time it may truly be said, The barrel of meal has not wasted, nor the cruse of oil failed.' At the close of their financial year, being seven months from the opening of the house, with a family of twentythree children, their current expenses were found to have been $234 03. On visiting the Alms House at Bellevue about this period, the colored children were found collected in a cellar, under the care of a man of intemperate habits, who was also at intervals deranged. At other times they were crowded together with degraded adults, in a miserable building, but illy adapted to promote health, comfort, or enjoyment. Under these circumstances the managers selected seven of these, for whom they provided a happy home; but most of them were subsequently found to be incurably diseased. An Act to incorporate the Society was obtained from the Legislature in 1838. Ascertaining that William Turpin, of this city, had left in charge of two trustees the sum of $6,000 for the support and maintenance of colored persons; that several years had elasped since the death of the testator; and that no appropriation was decided upon, the infant Asylum presented its claims through their friends and advisers, William F. Mott and Robert C. Cornell, (the latter since deceased,) and although several other applicants came forward, a final decision was made in its favor. Applications were made to the Common Council, several successive years, for a grant of land on which to erect a new building. To the persevering efforts of their advisers, William F. Mott and William Kelly, the managers are mainly indebted for the valuable site now in their possession, consisting of twenty lots of ground on Fifth-avenue, between Forty-third and Forty-fourth-streets. carefully digesting their plans for a building of one hundred and forty feet front, varying from forty-two to fifty feet in depth, arrangements were speedily entered into for its erection. A gift of $5,000 from a friend of the Institution, $6,000 from the Manumission Society, $1,000 from the Murray Fund, $1,000 from John Horsburgh, and many smaller donations, amounting to $7,000, covered the original cost After of the building and expenses on the grounds. In the spring of 1843 the children were removed to their new home, and the Report of this year is expressive of gratitude and praise for the seal of His blessing, which a kind Providence has set upon this work of faith. During the winter of 1847 fifty-six children were visited by measles; and although the disease was subdued, with but one exception, yet many of those who were attacked, being of scrofulous habit, were peculiarly susceptible to pulmonary diseases, to which a number of them fell victims. During this calamity, the managers felt required to exclude from admission scrofulous patients, which at times was peculiarly trying. The beseeching look of one little girl, who, with her brother, was denied admis tion in the establishment, being appropriately fitted up, and well adapted to the comfort and restoration of the sick. Thus, amid trials and vicissitudes, have the managers been enabled firmly to rely on Him who, with an unerring eye, discerns the end from the beginning. John Horsburgh left, in 1849, a legacy of $5,000 to the Institution, and had given at various times during his life about the same amount. This legacy was appropriated toward the erection of the Hospital. Since the establishment of the Hospital, children are admitted who are not likely to become permanent inmates and have no contagious disease. This increases the list of deaths, but smooths the pillow of many a little sufferer. The following are the statistics of the Institution for the last year, as stated in its Fifteenth Annual Report :— Admitted since the opening of the Asylum, 574 Number of children at date of last Report, 176 Admitted during the present year, boys 38, girls 27, boys} . . 65 241 201 Under care during the year, Present number, boys 120, girls 81, Number of children in the Asylum under eight years of age, eighty. The Colored Orphan Asylum may be considered a counterpart to the Nursery at Randall's Island, and our city government has recently made an appropriation for it. No colored children are, we believe, found now at the Island. Visitors to both of these interesting institutions will, we think, be inclined to consider the former as in all respects the most satisIts factory. inmates appear happier than the poor little creatures at the Nursery. The latter are gathered from a wider field of degradation perhaps; they look degraded and battered, as if they had once been the sport of demons. If you look at them, as they stand in rows in their schools, you will observe that at least every alternate one has either some disease, or distortion about the eyes or forehead. They have everything good in most comfortable abundance, and they seem to try-God pity them-to make themselves happy in their school exercises, military drills, &c.; but there appears to be an indelible stamp of degraded remembrance on their very brows. The little urchins at the Asylum, on the contrary, retain the light-heartedness of their race, and its good-heartedness too. If there are happy children anywhere, they are there. Go and see them, if you wish a pleas sion, led to efforts for the establishment of the Hospital, which now holds a conspicuous posi- | ant sight. THE MISSISSIPPI BUBBLE.* HE personal character and THE career of one man are so intimately connected with the great scheme of the years 1719 and 1720, that a history of the Mississippi madness can have no fitter introduction than a sketch of the life of its great author, John Law. John Law was born in Edinburgh in the year 1671. His father was the younger son of an ancient family in Fife, and carried on the business of a goldsmith and banker. John was received into his father's counting-house at the age of fourteen, and for three years labored hard to acquire an insight into the principles of banking as then carried on in Scotland. had always manifested great love for the study of numbers, and his proficiency in mathematics was considered extraordinary in one of his tender years. At the age of seventeen he was tall, strong, and well made; and his face, although deeply scarred with the small-pox, was agreeable He JOHN LAW. in its expression, and full of intelligence. | some abstruse calculation of chances, he At this time he began to neglect his business, and, becoming vain of his person, indulged in considerable extravagance of attire. He was a great favorite with the ladies, by whom he was called Beau Law; while the other sex, despising his foppery, nicknamed him Jessamy John. At the death of his father, which happened in 1688, he withdrew entirely from the desk, which had become so irksome, and being possessed of the revenues of the paternal estate of Lauriston, he proceeded to London, to see the world. He was now very young, very vain, good-looking, tolerably rich, and quite uncontrolled. It is no wonder that, on his arrival in the capital, he should launch out into extravagance. He soon became a regular frequenter of the gaming-houses, and by pursuing a certain plan, based upon contrived to gain considerable sums. After he had been for nine years exposed to the dangerous attractions of the gay life he was leading, he became an irrecoverable gambler. As his love of play increased in violence it diminished in prudence. Great losses were only to be repaired by still greater ventures, and one unhappy day he lost more than he could repay without mortgaging his family estate. To that step he was driven at last. At the same time his gallantry brought him into trouble. A love affair, or slight flirtation with a lady of the name of Villiers,* exposed him to the resentment of a Mr. Wilson, by whom he was challenged to fight a duel. Law accepted, and shot his antagonist dead upon the spot. He was arrested the same day, and Miss Elizabeth Villiers, afterward Countess Condensed from Mackay's Popular Delusions. of Orkney. |