Read Ebook: International Weekly Miscellany of Literature Art and Science — Volume 1 No. 2 July 8 1850 by Various

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Never to part! alas! the lingering sound Thro' the sad echoes of pale Memory's cave, Startles once more the hope my young soul found, Into bright hues, but, only for the grave ...

Must we then part! ah, till this heavy hour, Fraught with the leaden weight of sorrowing years, I could have stemmed grief's tide like some light shower, Where shows a rainbow hope to quell all idle fears.

But the dim phantoms of o'er shadowed pleasures, Gleaming thro' gathering mists that cloud my heart, Lend but a transient ray, those fragile treasures-- And heavier darkness falls to gloom the thought "We part!"

JUNE 22, 1850.

ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE.

RAMBLES IN THE PENINSULA.

GRENADA, May 26, 1850.

The walks and gardens of Grenada are exceedingly beautiful. The principal promenade is called El Salon. It is of considerable extent--about eighty feet in width, with regular lines of lofty elms on either side, the bending branches of which nearly meet in an arch overhead. At both extremities of this charming avenue is a large and handsome fountain of ever-flowing water. The ground of the walk is hard--slightly curved; and as smooth and clean as the floor of a ball-room, where convenient seats of stone, tastefully arranged beneath the shade of the spreading trees, seem to invite one to meditation and repose. Outside of this lovely promenade, are blooming gardens, teeming with roses and other flowers, which fill the air with fragrance, while through them on one side runs the river Darre, and on the other the Xenie--gentle streams, whose waters unite their melodious rippling to the chorus of nightingales, ever singing above their pleasant banks. But description is tiresome, especially when one is attempting to present something beyond his power, so I shall not fatigue you with it any longer: besides, a worthy English curate, now my only companion in this wretched hotel, is boring me so incessantly with conversation that I find it difficult to collect any thoughts to put on paper. I wish he was already in heaven, as, surely, he well deserves to be.

Yours, JOHN E. WARREN.

THE SUMMER NIGHT.

We are in the midst of July--in the midst of summer--of the most genial and pure-aired summer that we have had for years. How beautifully RICHTER, translated by our Longfellow, of kindred genius, describes the holy time! "The summer alone might elevate us. God what a season! In sooth, I often know not whether to stay in the city, or go forth into the fields, so alike is it everywhere and beautiful. If we go outside the city gate, the very beggars gladden our hearts, for they are no longer cold; and the post-boys who can pass the whole night on horseback, and the shepherds asleep in the open air. We need no gloomy house. We make a chamber out of every bush, and therefore have my good industrious bees before us, and the most gorgeous butterflies. In the gardens on the hills sit schoolboys, and in the open air look out words in the dictionary. On account of the game-laws there is no shooting now, and every thing in bush and furrow, and on green branches, can enjoy itself right heartily and safely. In all directions come travelers along the roads; they have their carriages for the most part thrown back--the horses have branches stuck in their saddles, and the drivers roses in their mouths. The shadows of the clouds go trailing along,--the birds fly between them up and down, and journeymen mechanics wander cheerily on with their bundles, and want no work. Even when it rains we love to stand out of doors, and breathe in the quickening influence, and the wet does the herdsman harm no more. And is it night, so sit we only in a cooler shadow, from which we plainly discern the daylight on the northern horizon and on the sweet warm stars of heaven. Wheresoever I look, there do I find my beloved blue on the flax in blossoms, on the corn-flowers, and the godlike endless heaven into which I would fain spring as into a stream. And now, if we turn homeward again, we find indeed but fresh delight. The street is a true nursery, for in the evening after supper, the little ones, though they have but a few clothes upon them, are again let out into the open air, and not driven under the bed-quilt as in winter. We sup by daylight, and hardly know where the candlesticks are. In the bed-chamber the windows are open day and night, and likewise most of the doors, without danger. The oldest women stand by the window without a chill, and sew. Flowers lie about everywhere--by the ink-stand--on the lawyer's papers--on the justice's table, and the tradesman's counter. The children make a great noise, and one hears bowling of ninepin alleys half the night through our walks up and down the street; and talks aloud, and sees the stars shoot in the high heaven. The foreign musicians, who wend their way homeward toward midnight, go fiddling along the street to their quarters, and the whole neighborhood runs to the window. The extra posts arrive later, and the horses neigh. One lies by the noise in the window and droops asleep. The post-horns awake him and the whole starry heaven hath spread itself open. O God! what a joyous life on this little earth."

Emma is from the German, and signifies a nurse; Caroline, from the Latin--noble minded; George, from the Greek-a farmer; Martha, from Hebrew--bitterness; the beautiful and common Mary is Hebrew, and means a drop of salt water--a tear; Sophia, from Greek--wisdom; Susan, from Hebrew--a lily; Thomas, from Hebrew--a twin; and Robert, from German--famous in council.

There's a new grave in the old church-yard, Another mound in the snow; And a maid whose soul was whiter far, Sleeps in her shroud below.

The winds of March are piping loud, And the snow comes down for hours; But by-and-by the April rains Will bring the sweet May flowers.

The sweet May flowers will cover her grave Made green by the April rain; But blight will lie on our memories. And our tears will fall in vain!

Mr. George H. Boker is at present engaged in preparing for the stage his new play of "The Betrothal." A correspondent who has seen it in manuscript, and for whose critical opinion we have a very high respect, pronounces it superior, both in action, combination and development of character, and general management of the plot, to any of his previous dramatic writings. It will probably be brought out next fall, not only in this city and Philadelphia, but in London, where his tragedy of "Calaynos" had such a successful run. We believe Mr. Boker will yet demonstrate that the art of dramatic writing is not lost, nor likely to be while we retain the language of Shakspeare, Jonson and Fletcher.

Bayard Taylor will deliver the poem before the societies of Harvard College on the 18th inst. Among his predecessors have been Charles Sprague, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Edward Everett, W.C. Bryant, George Bancroft, Frederick H. Hedge, and some dozen others of the first rank in letters.

John G. Whittier, we are sorry to learn, has been for some time in ill health. He is living quietly upon his farm in Haverhill, on the Merrimack.

Browning's "Christmas-Eve."--With great peculiarity and eccentricity, Mr. Browning is a genuine poet. Whether eccentricity is inseparable from genius we shall leave it to others to determine. Mr. Turner's peculiarities have admirers, and some persons affect to discover merits in Mr. Carlyle's German style. Mr. Browning's poetic powers raise him almost above ordinary trammels, but it has been justly remarked of him, that transcendentalism delivered in doggerel verse has throughout the effect of a discord."

FROM THE ILLUSTRATED LONDON NEWS.

GEN. ANDRE SANTA CRUZ.

This valiant soldier has lately arrived in London as Minister Plenipotentiary from the Republic of Bolivia to the English Court. He before visited Europe in the character of exile, but his misfortune is in a measure repaid by the importance and dignity of his present position.

General Andr? Santa Cruz was born in 1794, at La Paz, the capital of one of the provinces of Bolivia, and is a direct descendant, through his mother, from the Incas of Peru. He began his military career immediately upon quitting college, in the Spanish army, wherein he attained the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. He joined the liberating army in 1820, when Peru proclaimed her independence, and by his valor and tactics, largely contributed to maintain the proclamation. In 1821, as a reward for his services, he was promoted to the rank of Colonel, and in conjunction with General Sucre, assisted to raise the standard of liberty in the State of Ecuador. It was in the course of this campaign that the battle of Pichincha was fought in which Santa Cruz distinguished himself at the head of the advanced guard. These services attracted the attention of General Bolivar, and won for him the rank of General of Brigade. He was next engaged with General Bolivar in the celebrated campaigns of Xemiu and Ayacucho, which closed the wars of independence, in 1824.

The achievements of General Santa Cruz in the course of these campaigns were rewarded by the dignity of Grand Marshal of Peru, and the government of the departments of Chuquisaca and La Paz. His sagacious administration in his latter capacity marked him out as the fittest Governor of Peru, to which high post he was quickly nominated by his admirer and friend General Bolivar. The national records of this period bear ample testimony to the enlightened policy and the systematic prudence with which General Santa Cruz presided over the destinies of Peru. He retired from his post in 1827, in consequence of the defection of part of the army from his staunch friend Bolivar, and accepted the comparatively insignificant appointment of Minister Plenipotentiary to the Governments of Chili and Buenos Ayres. In 1829, a serious rebellion, that threatened irretrievable disasters, having broken out in the Republic of Bolivia, the friends of order appealed to their old friend General Santa Cruz as being the only man capable of re-establishing public tranquillity. His firmness and mercy had the rapid effect of calming the excited spirits of the rebels; and as soon as public confidence was restored, he placed the financial affairs of the country on a firm footing, and in conjunction with wise counselors, drew up the civil and penal codes, which were published within the period of his discretional government. In 1831, the National Congress elected him Constitutional President of Bolivia and Captain-General of the national forces; and, moreover, confirmed the clause in the will of General Bolivar, which bequeathed the medal of honor to him. His occupation of the Presidential chair, to which he was reelected in 1835, was marked by unusual commercial and financial prosperity, and the yearly revenue always exceeded the annual expenditure. He paid great attention, also, to the diffusion of knowledge.

Peru, harassed and divided by internal dissension, turned, as his native country had turned in the hour of trouble, to General Santa Cruz. It was proposed to form a confederation of the two republics. This proposition was carried out and solemnly ratified in 1835; whereupon the Peruvians, under the protection of their former chief magistrate, laid down arms, and prepared to enjoy the blessings of peace. The Confederation was confirmed by a convocation of the Congresses of Cicuani, Huawra, and Tapacari, in 1836, and General Santa Cruz was named "Protector of the Confederation." In his capacity of Protector, the General made a triumphant entry into Lima, in 1837, where the deliberations of a General Congress of the Confederation were at once opened, and the constitution of the Confederation was determined upon. The Protector's liberal policy had secured the sympathy and esteem of all enlightened nations, gave an impetus to native enterprise and industry, and above all, restored the credit of Peru by acknowledging and liquidating the English liabilities. This prosperous state of things was suddenly checked by the appearance of a hostile Chilian fleet, which seized upon the fleet of the Confederation in the port of Callao, without any previous declaration of war, and by the landing of a Chilian expedition on the Intermedios, accompanied by a handful of Peruvians who were hostile to the Confederation. This expedition was soon subdued by the skill of General Santa Cruz, who exacted from it the treaty of Paucaupata, and then allowed free egress from the territory of the Confederation. This generosity on the part of the Protector was met by treachery on the part of Chili, directly her army was once more on Chilian ground. At this time the Government of Buenos Ayres made an unsuccessful attack upon the Confederation. The enemies without having been successfully repulsed, the prosperous condition of the Confederation continued, till General Orbegoso, one of the founders of the Confederation, rebelled, and enlisted the troops under his command in his Cause. This internal rebellion afforded a fresh and favorable opportunity for renewed hostility from without, and the result was that within a short space of time Chilian troops occupied Lima. On the appearance of General Santa Cruz, however, the foes were compelled to evacuate and re-embark. Defeated in this direction, the Chilian troops directed their course to the northern provinces, where Orbegoso's rebel band were collected. Gen. Santa Cruz, in the ardor of his determination to rid the territory of the Confederation from this treacherous foe, undertook a march of two hundred leagues, under the severity of which many of his troops sank, and the result of which was his defeat at Yungay, by the rebel forces. The defection of Generals Ballivian and Velasco, who commanded two powerful divisions of the army of the Confederation, made this disaster irretrievable. General Santa Cruz was obliged to retire to Guayaquil, whence he subsequently betook himself with his family to Europe. He has lately been accredited by his native country Minister Plenipotentiary in London and Paris.

There are few public men who have held so many important public trusts with such universal popularity. The liberality of the General's views, his sagacity in council, and above all, the purity of his patriotism and the unselfish nature of his administrations, are claims upon the gratitude of South America that will command wider recognition in times to come even than they obtain at the present time.

THE CELL OF THE BEE.--Hive-bees not only differ from wasps in building their comb with material secreted by themselves, but they also differ in the mode in which they construct their cells. All the wasps which I have hitherto described have their tiers of cells single: now, the honeycomb is invariably double. And, moreover, whilst all these wasps and hornets arrange their cells horizontally, the bee arranges its comb vertically.

DISASTERS of life, like convulsions of the earth, lay bare the primary strata of human nature: they expose to us elements we might forget, or suppose to be transmuted by the alchemy of civilization. In this respect they are, like those geological expositions, useful lessons and mementoes to the lawmaker.

ORIENTAL CARAVANS.

Letter from the Duke Of Wellington.--A short time since, the rector of a parish in one of the midland counties, having obtained subscriptions toward the restoration of his church, still found himself unable to meet all the claims which the outlay had occasioned. To supply the deficiency, he wrote to many persons of wealth and eminence, politely soliciting their aid. The following is a copy of the reply which he received to the application made to his Grace:

Immediately upon the receipt of this, the reverend gentleman was offered five guineas for the autograph, which he readily accepted, entering the amount in his subscription-list as the Duke of Wellington's contribution to the fund.

RECENT DEATHS.

Mr. Richard J. Wyatt, an eminent English sculptor, died at Rome on the 29th of May, after a few days' illness, and was buried in the Protestant burial-ground. The hearse was followed by the British Consul, the American Charg? d'Affairs, and about fifty friends and artists of all nations. Mr. Wyatt went to Rome in 1822, and worked for Mr. Gibson. After a few years he commenced his career, in which he has been so successful. It is said that he has executed commissions to the extent of ?20,000 sterling. He was in the fifty-seventh year of his age.

FROM FRASER'S MAGAZINE.

THE DOM OF DANTZIC.

FOUNDED ON FACT.

"Dumiger, my own Dumiger, you desired me not to disturb you this night: but you surely cannot know how late it is. I am lonely and weary, and could not resist coming to you; there is a long line of pale light behind the Artimshof, it must be the day breaking; yes, there, the old worn-out clock is striking five, and you are worn out, Dumiger, so leave your work to sleep;" and the young girl blushed deeply as she spoke.

The light in the apartment had burnt out unperceived by Dumiger; but although pale and thin was the streak of morning's dawn, it was sufficient to show that in that room was standing a form, beautiful from its fullness and ripeness. She who addressed the man who was sitting at the table was a bride but nine days since, and absorbing indeed must have been the pursuit which kept him from her side. She had thrown a shawl loosely over her shoulders, which fell in many folds down to her bare feet; her hair, of that singular thickness which all nations admire, but which the Germans alone as a nation possess, was coiled around her small and classic head; there was on her cheek that soft bloom which is called into existence by love alone, and which makes the pulses of youth beat quickly as it gazes. Nothing was wanting to complete her excellence--neither that refinement which poets love to dwell on sometimes to the prejudice of other qualities, nor that perfection of feature, the admiration of which is the first characteristic of early passion; and yet, notwithstanding, when she placed her hand upon her husband's shoulder the touch did not arouse him from his reverie. His forehead was pressed by both his hands as if to restrain the pulsations of the temples; implements of all description lay around him; small wheels, and springs of different constructions, segments of circles, and various sections bore evidence to the deep nature of his studies, and to the exertion which merited repose. The girl sighed as she looked at the surrounding chaos; she took one hand gently and unresistingly on his part from his face, and pressed it to her own. While she gazed fondly upon the pale; wan countenance which it had concealed, it seemed, alas! to dawn slowly upon her that this confused heap of material was but an indication of ideas equally disturbed, and energies as broken. To whom had she wedded herself? To a man whose whole soul was absorbed in one idea, and that an idea which evidently separated him from her, which created a gulf between them, that not fame, nor power, nor boundless wealth, could ever fill up, for that gulf is fathomless--the gulf of ambition, for which ambition barters, as in this instance, its enjoyment--manhood too often its truth--and old age its repose. Yes, she had linked her destiny to such a man, and now she felt the full import of the vow she had made, of the pledge she had taken. She had done so wittingly, knowingly, with consideration; but not until that moment had the full force of her position burst upon her.

"Dumiger," she again whispered in the small, still voice of love; bending her lips to his hand at the same time,--"Dumiger!"

There was silence, for he slept.

But slowly, as though by a secret sympathy, he awoke to consciousness: he looked wildly around the room, and then turned a keen, earnest gaze on the form near him.

"Marguerite, my love," he said gently, and then he put his arm around her waist, and pressed his lips to hers, "you promised me, Marguerite, that you would let me toil through this night."

"So I did, Dumiger," she replied; "but I felt nervous and wretched; I could not sleep: besides, look out, the night is already passed, it is quite morning, and very chilly too," she said, as she drew her shawl closer round her bosom.

"Yes, you will catch cold, my darling. Leave me."

"And you, Dumiger, will you remain here, poring over these volumes, and torturing your brains? I am sure, that you will succeed far more easily , you will succeed far better by giving yourself more rest, and working by day instead of night; your cheek is quite pale. Dumiger: now, in your boyhood, you have lines marked on your forehead which in others are the result of pain and toil. Your eyes have lost--"

She was about to add, "their brightness," when as though a sudden ray of light had flashed through them, they gleamed with even more than their wonted intelligence.

Marguerite looked at him as if she dreaded that his brain was turned. Dumiger interpreted that look; for what look is there that love cannot interpret?

"No, Marguerite, I am not mad, believe me. This toil has not yet turned my brain, though it might indeed have done so, for it is sad and hard to labor night after night in pursuit of an object so distant and yet so prized. You ask me why I labor through the night? Foolish child! why you must know that the clock for which the city has offered so extravagant a prize, and to obtain which, not I alone, but so many others are wasting their health and squandering their youth--you must know that this clock is not only to tell the hour of the day, and the month of the year, but to contain within its works the secret of the movements of the heavenly bodies;--that to obtain this prize they must read the wonders of the skies, and penetrate its mysteries. It is a wild and fearful study, Marguerite--a study, the pursuit of which is not calculated by the hands on the dial-plate. Even now I marvel at the audacity of the men who proposed such a design, and the boldness of those who, like myself, have undertaken to fulfill it. You cannot imagine, Marguerite, how such contemplations remove one from the world in which we live. Until I knew you, Marguerite, I cared for and thought of nothing else."

"And even now, Dumiger, is this not the case?" said she, with a gentle smile.

"No, to your love I owe all, Marguerite," he answered. "It seemed to purify my feelings, to elevate my mind to the height of this vast argument--until I knew you there was a link wanting in my life. When I used to ponder on the marvelous love of the Infinite, which could work out this wondrous system, and give man the faculty and the desire of comprehending it, I felt that the mind contained capacities long concealed from its owner; I felt that even in this world there must be at some time a perfect revelation of perfect love to man, beyond that love of nature which is to be derived from the study of this world's natural laws and those of the lights which rule it. I was then unsatisfied, Marguerite, for there was a void in my heart which nothing could fill up; and I remember once meeting with a passage in a favorite author which said, that whosoever had a faculty or sensation unemployed could not be happy. I was in that situation; but strange to say, absorbing as the passion of love is, when I once understood this great mystery I was better able to devote all my energies to science. I had often heard it said, that a pure and holy affection is the purest and surest source of energy and greatness--until I knew you, Marguerite, I gave no credit to the saying."

"And this star, Dumiger, which is growing fainter and fainter?"

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