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Behold that which I have seen: it is good and comely for one to eat and to driok, and to enjoy the good of all his labor that he caketh under the sun all the days of his life, which God giveth hin: for it is his portion. Every man also to whom God hath given riches and wealth, and hath given him power to eat there. of, and to take his portion, and to rejoice in his labor; this is the gift of God. For he shall not much remember the days of his life ; because God answereth him in the joy of his heart.
Ecclesiastes v, 18, 19, 20.
A wanderer on a midnight sea,
Denied the polestar's guiding ray, I know that rocks are on the lee, That sands and shallows crowd the way; And, as the vivid lightning's play, Bowed by the fury of the blast,
And borne on foam-crowned waves away, See lattered sail and broken mast.
For Time came on with ruthless haste,
And into air we saw them fade.
We look around us, and, dismayed, We ask the future of our doom;
And floating in its dismal shade
I mark his fiery eye-balls roll;
His pallid lips this burden troll:
“Thou’rt mine for aye, poor coward soul! Thou’rt mine-we ne'er shall part again”
Ha! let me drain the poisoned bowl: With cheerless life I'll end his reign. Away! away! The spell is o'er.
No more the victim of Despair, The ills that weakly I deplore,
I'll use my jaded powers to bear.
The vain regrets, the present care, The shadowings of years to be,
As others have, I'll bravely dare, With brow erect and spirit free.
I see how those who went before
Are dashed against my vessel's side;
It cries :—"And hast thou then relied
Ask of those mangled forms a guide : They've seen and proved the dangers near.”
Though rent the sail and gone the mast,
A yet unweakened sail I'll bend; And, cautioned by the horrors past,
With confidence its folds extend.
Though darkness on the wave descend, The needle's point I still can view;
The helm remains a faithful friend; My bark is staunch; my chart is true. Behold! the shadows pass away
As, struggling up the clouded east, Ascends the day-god's cheering ray,
Or widens o'er the ocean's breast.
And now, the raging storm has ceased; No more the angry sea winds blow;
And I, from danger's grasp released, O'er broader seas direct my prow.
That sea is but the sea of life,
O'er which a polar darkness lours;
That fill our evil-haunted hours;
Madness, the yawning wave, devours
The corses weltering in the wave
Whose love our lives a pleasure gave.
We saw them once attempt to brave The ills of life-but all in vain:
We saw them yield; and could not save: Despair hath bound them with his chain. And every pleasure we have known
Resistless fell before his might; Like flashing meteors, they shone
To mock us with their blinding light,
And perished like the dreams of night, That scarce have roused the o’er-labored mind,
When, lo! we waken in affright New disappointments still to find.
Yet will we drop the sorrowing tear
For those of ardent soul, who fell Like summer leaves untimely sere,
As round the hearth their tale we tell.
And let us emulously dwell On theirs, of sturdier minds, who drove
The fiend Despair to distant cell, And firmly 'gainst life's evils strove.
We seek for honors, wealth, or power,
To lure the weary heart from woe; And could they for a transient hour,
How great a debt to them we'd owe.
But we, alas! must see them go To those who scarcely tried to gain;
Or if to us, how soon we know The trust reposed in them was vain. We may not conjure from the past
The flattering visions once displayed ;
Though friendships formed without a thought,
Unstable as the cresting foam
That teaches not again to roam
From that endeared and humble home,
Where still the partial friends will come,
How soon the senses pall we've found,
Where Science sits by Virtue crowned.
There will we learn the laws profound That govern things, and states, and mind,
And, when eve's shadows gather round,
donc, and caused, in consequence, a good deal of in. We'll bow where Poesy's enshrined.
testine commotion on board of our vessel. I owe the
sickness, however, thanks in one respect, for in the outIf honors sought invest our heads,
set, whilst I was experiencing the truth of Byron's lines, They shali by worthy means be earned;
It is an awkward sight If competence our tables spreads,
To see one's native land receding through We'll wealth relinquish ur unconcerned;
The growing waters; it unmans one quite, And if, in arts or arms well learned,
Especially when life is rather new; Our service is by power repaid,
and feeling as blue as the waters of the ocean around Their bright example who so yearned
me, at leaving "friends and sacred home,” it completely Towards Freedom, in past days, shall aid.
released me from all such moral sufferings. One is apt But if, adown the humbler path
to care for little else when revelling in the sensations Of life, with poverty we wend,
which the motion of the ship produces. But enough of We'll seek the bliss contentment hath
such reminiscences. On revient toujours à ses premiers And life in healthy labor spend.
amours, but not to one's first hates. And, freemen born, we'll proudly lend
After remaining a day in Havre, I set off in the DiliOur suffrage, that in place may stand
gence for Rouen. Being desirous, of course, of seeing The patriots, who can best defend,
the country through which we passed, without imitating And most advance, our native land.
the example of great Julius, who, according to the
school-boy's translation of the phrase, “Cæsar venit in No more we'll mourn the wasted past,
Galliam summa diligentiâ,”—
---came into Gaul “on the Nor hopes destroyed, nor ripened fear,
summit of the Diligence"-I took my seat in the That o'er the pallid brow have cast
Caupé, which being open on all sides save the one The furrowed lines that there appear.
where it is separated from the Intérieur, affords a very Each passing hour will bring us cheer
good prospect of whatever is to be seen. The road If rightly we the time employ
between Havre and Rouen is generally very good. It For lo! the bow-spanned arch is clear,
runs near the river Seine, the banks of which are quite And every breeze is fraught with joy.
pretty, and through a finely cultivated and tolerably
well-wooded region. Some of the views which it preAnd now again, as in the hours When childhood's guilelessness could find,
sents to the traveller, embracing both sides of the river,
are beautiful. The villages situated upon it wear all a Amid envenomed thorns, fair flowers
squalid, decayed appearance. In all the habitations of In depth of darkest woods enshrined,
the inferior orders of people that I observed scattered Well armed to meet, or wisely blind
about the country or collected together in villages, To what the future hides, we'll seek
there is a lamentable want of that air of neatness and For music in the moaning wind,
comfort which renders the farm-houses and hamlets in And beauty in the lightning's streak.
England so attractive. One dwelling that we passed We will admire His power who made;
was of so unique a character that it deserves to be men(His power assures his guardian care.)
tioned; it was constructed entirely out of an immense Nor from the future turn, afraid
rock which rested on the side of a high hill, and seemed Of ills He bade his creatures bear.
to possess every requisite for the residence of the poor And, haply, we, by ardent prayer,
family by whom it was inhabited. It was rather sinAnd sinless heart, and blameless hand,
gular to see smoke curling out of the top of a huge May doubly triumph o'er despair,
mass of granite, before you came near enough to be And reach, at last, "the better land.”
aware of its nature. At a short distance from L'Ilebonne, one of the villages through which we rode, are the moss-covered ruins of a building of Roman date, and of an old feudal chateau that wear a highly impressive and venerable aspect. The sight of these
relies of former days constitutes one of the peculiar A LETTER
pleasures of travelling through a country where, for From the other side of the Atlantic. centuries, civilization in a greater or less degree, has BY ROBERT WALSH, Jr.
exercised sway. The mind contemplates with a spe
cies of pensive delight the various monuments of byParis, August, gone ages, slowly mouldering into the decay which My Dear W-,
long since has overtaken the hands by which they were After a passage of twenty-three days, I arrived at constructed. For the student especially there is someHavre in sufficiently good case, though somewhat thing intensely interesting in wandering through regions thinner than when I embarked at New York, an ef- thus pregnant with historical and romantic recollections, fect of that delightful concomitant of a voyage which where every antiquated structure, where almost every the French call “maladie de mer,” and which they spot of ground has its own story to tell, and affords food might as truly term “maladie a mère.” Britannia, as for diversified reflection. How he revels in the idea the poor writing master ejaculated, whilst leaning over that he is in a land the sides of the steamer between Dover and Calais,
Where each old poetic mountain did not rule the waves as straight as she might have
Inspiration breath'd around,
where he may almost fancy himself treading in the plan. But scarcely has he advanced a few steps in the footsteps of men, on whose actions and on whose street, before his notice is attracted by something that thoughts he has loved to dwell, and can, as it were, causes him to linger for awhile. Tearing himself, howidentify them with what he sees! It is this undefinable ever, away, he proceeds a little further in his course, charm which is thrown around several of the countries when another novelty produces another delay Again of Europe, more than their positive, actual beauty, he continues his route, secretly vowing that nothing which renders a tour through them a matter of such shall a third time turn him aside from the object he has exquisite gratification. But the scenes of practical in view, but again is his attention diverted to what misery which are constantly presented to the eye in meets his eye. In this manner he goes on ; until perFrance, are too revolting to allow the imagination to haps he finds himself completely wearied for the day, indulge in its reveries for any length of time, and before he has arrived at the place which it was his inconstitute a great drawback upon the pleasure arising tention first to inspect. This happened to me so often from a journey through its hallowed and lovely region. in my sight-seeking expeditions, that at length I abanWhenever the Diligence stopped, especially if in a vil- doned all hopes of accomplishing a systematic scrutiny, Jage or town, it was immediately surrounded by a host and permitted myself to wander about without chart or of beggars demanding charity, whose pitiably miserable compass in whatever direction I was borne by the varyappearance was enough to sicken the heart. It woulding wind of inclination or chance. “Quo me cunque be in vain, however, for any other than a Rothschild rapit tempestas, deferor hospes," was the only principle to attempt to bestow alms, however inconsiderable, of my ramblings. Indeed it would be next to impossiupon them all. If a person with a purse of but mode- ble to have any other in Paris, where at every step so rate dimensions were to do it, he would soon be obliged many causes of amusement and interest are encountered, to enroll himself among the mendicant fraternity, and that unless you possess the self-command or apathy of cry out with the rest of them—“Donnez un sous, à un a stoic, it is a matter of as much difficulty for you to pauvre malheureux, pour l'amour de Dieu et de la Sainte keep your “eyes right” as it is for a militia man on his Vierge.” But it would be impossible for the most frigid first muster-day. This remark is of course only applistoic to resist some of the sights of distress which are cable to pedestrian excursions—in a cabriolet or any encountered.
other kind of vehicle, temptations to irregularity being There is one circumstance which at first gives the much less strong and much less easy to gratify, a mecountry of France a somewhat singular aspect to the thodical course may be pursued. But I must confess eye of an American-I mean the want of fences or that (whenever the state of the weather rendered it poshedges to separate the fields, &c. from the road,-insible,) I infinitely preferred trudging along to the emconsequence of which they are completely open to the ployment of a conveyance; and I think it decidedly depredations of cattle. These gentry cannot certainly most advisable for a stranger, who is anxious to gain be as fond of making inroads upon the property of all the entertainment and instruction he can from his others in France as they are in America, or they would sojourn in Paris, to make use of his legs as much as nnt be afforded there such facilities for indulging their possible in his peregrinations among its streets. By inclinations as are given them by the want of enclosures. riding, it is true, he saves a great deal of time and The numerous windmills that he meets, strike him also avoids considerable inconvenience of various kinds, but as adding to the novelty of the surrounding scenery, and his observations will be comparatively few and superfigive him some opportunity for the exercise of his ima- cial, and his sources of amusement much less abundant. gination, by fancying that he beholds the renowned I have said that considerable inconvenience is avoided Don shivering his chivalrous lance against one of their by riding, and it must be acknowledged that it requires arms. And there stands the honest Squire holding the no small portion of patience and self-possession to thread bridle of his donkey, and gazing at the feats of his one's way through most of the streets, or rather alleys, master with a look of mingled wonder and waggery! of Paris. It is a pity the poet Gay did not write a
In Rouen I spent a delightful day in looking at the Trivia upon the art of walking in them, as well as in glorious old cathedrals,
those of London, instead of leaving that theme for
“Gallia's Muse." His directions for the comfort of Where through the long drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
pedestrians in the metropolis of England, are of little
use to the tribe, who, in the sister capital, seek Beyond those venerable structures the place has few attractions; and with Paris in prospect one is not dis
Wrapt in their virtue, and a good surtout. posed to dilly-dally on the road. It was late in the evening when we reached the great Metropolis, but I Here it is useless to trouble one's self about giving the did not get to bed before I had strolled up and down the wall to one person and refusing it to another, or with Boulevards in all the ecstacy of admiring astonishment, reflections upon the best means of escaping all annoywondering, à la Yankee Doodle, how I should ever see ances, such as the dirtying of clothes, jostling, and a the town, there were so many houses and people. hundred others, which it would require an iron voice
The first thing of course that a stranger does in Paris, and brazen lungs to enumerate—all minor considerais to make the round of its “lions," having previously tions are merged in the absorbing one of safety. The purchased a guide-book, and arranged the most regular danger that is incurred from innumerable vehicles in process for inspecting them all. After fixing upon the narrow, crowded streets, where there are no side-walks, method to be pursued, appropriating certain objects to and where consequently the pedestrian has no approeach day, in order to avoid confusion, he sets out upon priate place, is such, that unless the whole attention is his tour with a full resolve to follow his predetermined devoted to its avoidance accidents must ensue. Wo to
Sweet content on foot,
who is anxious about the preservation of his national collection of paintings, though much inferior coat from the mud and filth of all kinds which are flying in size and value to that of the Louvre, and that its about; vanity will as certainly be his ruin as it was garden is equal, if not superior, to the garden of the that of the frog in the fable. In endeavoring to get out Tuileries—that the Palais Royal was the property of of the
way of the mire that is flung from the wheels the notorious Philippe Egalité, Duke d'Orleans, who sold and “dashing hoofs” of one equipage, he will almost it to repair his fortunes, shattered by a long course of infallibly be run over by another-to use a favorite profligacy and extravagance, and that it is now a splenfigure, from the frying pan he will jump into the fire. did bazaar of quadrangular shape, where all the necesOur worthy forefathers, it is said, always made their saries, and almost all the luxuries of life can be obtainlast wills and testaments when they were on the eve of ed—that the other buildings most worthy of admiration, a journey from Philadelphia to New York or Baltimore; are the Bourse or Exchange, an exquisite specimen of and it would appear necessary for persons about to chaste architecture; the Bourbon Palace, where the commence the perilous navigation of Parisian streets, Chamber of Deputies hold their sittings; the Hotel Dieu to take the same precaution, were it not a fact that few or Hospital for invalid and worn out veterans, famous if any accidents occur. I have really been astonished, for its gilded dome; the churches of Notre Dame, the not only at the dexterity of the natives in dodging, but Madeline, St. Roc, &c. at that which I myself have acquired after a short no You would not care much either, I am sure, for a viciate. It eventually becomes so natural to you to repetition of the sentimentalism and moralizing of every hear the rattling of a vehicle at your back, while the previous visiter to the cemetery of Pére la Chaise, heads of a pair of horses are almost in contact with where indeed one would be tempted to exclaim, if it your face, that such a position gives you not the slight-were not profanity—“Oh grave where is thy victoryest uneasiness,
Oh death where is thy sting”—so completely is the The stranger, therefore, who resolves upon perform- tomb divested of its horrors by the loveliness of the ing the tour of Paris on foot, must make up his mind to spot, and the general appearance of its receptacles for endure a good deal of inconvenience-he must not mur-mortal remains—those of the once great ones of this mur at frequently finding that
world interred in magnificent mausoleums, those of the Black floods of mire th' embroider'd coat disgrace,
humble in graves where the cypress and the choicest And mud enwraps the honors of his face,
flowers planted by the hand of affection, spread around
such an air of tranquil, blessed peace, as almost to or at having the soles of his feet somewhat disturbed render repose in them an object of desire. The most by the jutting stones over which they must pass; he interesting monument of course is that of Abelard and will be amply compensated. This great advantage he Eloisa, which affords romantic young ladies and young possesses in an immense place like Paris or London, gentlemen such a delightful opportunity which he does not in our comparatively small American cities, that he may loiter and lounge about the streets
A thousand melodies unheard before : as he chooses without attracting observation. Strangers are so numerous there, that the inhabitants are as much But by far the most magnificent, is that of the Countess accustomed to their habits as to those of each other; Den lorff, the wife of an immensely wealthy Russian but with us a person sauntering up and down, peering noble, which is a small temple constructed of beautiful into all the windows of shops, stopping to gaze now at Italian marble, and is said to have cost 300,000 francs. this, now at that thing, is quite an object of curiosity. Those sepulchres, however, which an American is apt
It is not my intention to trouble you with long des to look upon with the greatest interest, are several criptions of the edifices, &c. of Paris, of which the length, which cover the remains of his countrymen, prematurely breadth, height, appearance and character, have been cut off at a distance from their home. There they lie over and over again detailed in every work that has unheeded except by the traveller from the land of their been published concerning that city. You are, doubt- birth, to whom they afford a melancholy warning that less, well aware that the Louvre is a magnificent palace, he also, whilst separated from all he holds dear, may containing the most extensive, if not the most valuable be called to extend his wandering into that region from collection of pictures and statuary in the world, and which there is no return. was formerly the residence of the Kings of France
On some fond brcast the parting soul relies, that their present dwelling is the palace of the Tuile
Some pious drops the closing eye requires, ries, a long, irregular edifice, facing a beautiful garden, in which the airy elegance of the parterre is blended but theirs was the hard lot to be deprived in their last with the melancholy loveliness of the grove; the choicest moments of those consolations, to breathe their last sigh flowers springing up here in rich profusion and arranged and to close their eyes, like the unfortunate companion with exquisite taste; there long avenues of lofty, spread of Encas, in a land of strangers, casting a dying rememing trees, whose branches mingling together form a brance upon that spot where first they saw the light. dense mass of foliage alike impervious to the rays of I can assure you that I felt very gloomy whilst gazing the sun and the waters of the clouds; and in all direc-on their tombs. tions statues of various dimensions and kinds, and basins But let me quit this grave subject and transport you of crystal transparency glittering with gold fish, on to a gayer place, the Garden of Plants—the only fixed whose surface majestie swans are gliding in all the name of this terrestrial paradise, which, like the tiger pride of conscious beauty. You need not be told that that under the Bourbons was dubbed "le grand tigre in the palace of the Luxembourg, perhaps the most royal,” then, under Buonaparte, “le grand tigre impestriking edifice of the kind in Paris, there is another | rial,” then again after the restoration of the Bourbons,