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THE GLOBE-MAKER.-A REVERIE.

"THEN this globe will do," answered the master of the shop, packing up a terrestrial globe I had just purchased.

"Excellently well," said I; "and for the celestial globe, let me have that on which the constellations are drawn in a pictorial form, not that whereon the different combinations of stars are merely separated by lines."

"You are right," observed the optician; "there is a life in the former which we greatly miss in the latter; we see in them the results of that overflowing fulness which is the characteristic of the artistical man, or rather of man in general; for where is he that is no artist? The same energy which led the first sculptor to declare that the lifeless block of marble should bear the impress of his mind and his will-that it should bear in it the seal of his own life-this same energy led on the early astronomer to write, even on the unattainable skies, the pictures of his own imagination, and declare that even that expanse should be inscribed with the characters of humanity. Observe with what small regard to order, to any real combination, these constellations are arranged;-observe that there is no reason why the stars placed in the extremity of a constellation should not as well be assigned to the neighbouring one. Had they stood out at once in their several distinctive combinations, the work of man's imagination had been small; nature would have already sketched the pictures he was to fill up. But you see his task was one of extreme difficulty; his imagination ran along in wild order among a number of dots, and the whole became a combination of pictures, which have been handed down from age to age. We gain nothing by the substitution of the lines, and why therefore should we not allow the rich highly-coloured emanation of man's imagination to remain -illustrating as it does that tendency of life to develope itself-and so strongly withal, that man is ever urged on to make all nature bear the mark of his own living being?"

"The same considerations," I observed, "have always induced me to feel in a living presence when works of art were before me. They have, as you observe, the seal of life-and that not only of a general but an individual life-and when the artist has passed away, the manifestation of his energies still remains. Hence I have wondered that cities have not as many poets to sing their wonders as nature. What a picture of man's freedom and mind is a populous town! Every brick of every house bears the impress! And is not the continuous free acting of man, in whatever shape, worthy of as many songs as the necessary operations of nature?"

"It may be so," replied the optician, smiling; " but do not let us carry out our admiration of man at the expence of justice to nature. Leibnitz well observed, that the leading difference between the works of man and those of nature was this: that in the former we can declare where organization begins, as from a fixed point, in the latter not. Thus, in a watch, the minimum of organization is a single wheel-that is, as it were, an atom of the machine-break it up, and it is but a piece of brass,

and no integral part of the organized watch. On the other hand, take an organized work of nature, and dissect it as you will, you will come to no termination-but every part is a member of the machine—and organization begins at a point to which no human skill can reach-or perhaps does not begin at any sensible point at all. Here, however," he said, " is a work of art which bears no small resemblance to nature."

He lifted the cover off a small stand, and discovered a minute terrestrial globe. Eye it closely," he said.

I looked at it attentively, and was startled to find that it was no mere painted thing, but that the land parts seemed really composed of some earthy substance, while the seas were actually fluid. I could discern little mountains and vales, and here and there several white specks situated close to each other, but which were too minute for me to discover what they represented.

The optician lent me a magnifying glass of exceeding power, and I then saw that these indistinct specks were little edifices arranged in cities and villages; and now still more minute dots were just visible, which from their motion about the streets of the towns, I concluded to represent the inhabitants. I could now also perceive symptoms of vegetation on the soil, and little ships moving across the seas.

"How," I exclaimed, " was a work so remarkable produced?"

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By a method the very reverse of that which is usually employed. We generally make a number of parts, and then fit them together, so as to form a whole. This globe, on the contrary, was made by a continuous process."

"I do not exactly comprehend you," said I.

"Follow me then," he said, " and I will show you my workshop."

I followed gladly; and after going through a passage of some length, we came into a dark ante-room, lit by a single lamp. To the right stood a number of children, decked with the most beautiful flowers, and clad in white dresses. They were amusing themselves with the fruit and flower-pots which stood on a table covered with an embroidered cloth. The flowers were of most brilliant colours, and of a kind I had never before seen, and withal so rapid in their growth, that while some of the children sowed seeds, they began to spring almost as soon as they had fallen. To the left stood also a number of children, but they were clothed in deep black, and adorned with wreaths of withered leaves; they were likewise amusing themselves with flowers, which stood on a table covered with black velvet; but their delight was to nip them short, and tear them to pieces. And a child kept running from table to table, bearing the withered leaves to the children clad in white, and the fresh and blooming flowers to those clad in black, and this interchange seemed perpetual. "Dear children," said the optician, "thus you continue your pure and happy tasks. Both equally joyous, though your aspects be dif

ferent.'

Upon this the children burst out singing the following words:

Life and Death are sisters fair

Yes they are a lovely pair.
Life is sung in joyous song,
While men do her sister wrong,

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Calling her severe and stern,

While her heart for them doth burn.
Weave then-weave a grateful wreath,
Crown the sisters, Life and Death.

If fair life her sister lost,
On a boundless ocean tost,
She would rove in great unrest,
Missing that warm loving breast.
Now when scared by wild alarms,
She can seek her sister's arms;

To that tender bosom flee-
Sink to sleep in ecstasy.

We proceeded; and on leaving the ante-room found ourselves in a spacious apartment, round which were arranged globes in every state of progress. In the centre sat a stately woman, with that regularity of feature, and that absence of lively expression, which is peculiar to a statue. Her "neutral tint" drapery hung about her with a majestic yet formal grace. The eye was fixed, as if not directed to any particular object. At her feet a little child was amusing itself by modelling a bust of Heraclitus, and the skill with which it fashioned the clay was marvellous; the countenance of the old Ephesian sprung forth, as though the mass were animated by the touch. Every line of the countenance, every hair of the beard, flowed forth with that graceful ease as though the clay had life, and fashioned itself according to the idea of the little artist, rather than waiting for the touch of its hand. Every now and then the child looked up, as though for approval, to the majestic woman; and what an expression of love and tenderness flashed from its dark brilliant eyes-eyes that were like some concentration of fire, so flashing and so restless were they; and yet every glance was such as though it would penetrate an object in an instant. Even a faint smile played on the lips of the statue-like countenance whenever those eyes were raised. The optician led me round the room, to show me the various globes. "Several of them," he observed, "only stand here as records of a failure. Many of them were constructed on a wrong principle; and the globe I showed you before your entrance hither was the result of much painful thought and experience. Observe this; it is a beautiful work, but less perfect than the other."

And he showed me a bright transparent globe, which seemed formed from a fluid, reduced to a spherical shape by some singular process. In the parts representing seas, the fluid state was preserved; the continents were a sort of ice; and on looking at it through a powerful glass, I could discern no sign of motion, save in some little syren-like figures which floated about in the fluid. At the same time, from beneath the part of the floor on which I stood, ascended the sound of a low moaning voice, which sung as follows:

I'm bow'd-I bend beneath a sullen weight,

And through my icy veins no blood can flow;
I am insensible to joy or woe:

Haste, haste, and free me from this torpid state!

N. S.-VOL. I.

K K

Let me feel life in glowing torrents gush-
O give me joy-yea, give me agony!

So that from this cramp'd, sullen state I flee :
Through all-through gladness-sorrow— I would rush.
O breathe in me the warm vivific breath,

That I may spread my wings and proudly fly!

And as I still fly onwards-let me die

But here I wither, nor in life nor death.

Several other globes were shown to me, apparently constructed on different principles; some, for instance, seemed composed of vapour in a dense state; but it would occupy too much time to enter into a close description of all these.

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My little artist," said the optician, "the stranger who accompanies me would willingly see the construction of one of your chief works."

At these words, the child sprung from the ground with the rapidity of lightning, its eyes flashed even brighter fires than before, and I could see that in every change of light its garment took a different hue, going through all the colours of the rainbow in rapid succession. For a moment it looked up to the majestic female, as though asking permission to commence its new work: upon which the stately head bowed in solemn

assent.

At this, the child took from a cabinet in the room a small substance, shaped like a heart, which it kindled by a taper. The heart gave no flame, but was merely illumined by a small dull spark, till the child who held it in its hand endeavoured to raise a flame by its breath. Presently it began to dart forth a few sparks, which grew brighter and brighter, till they were poured in a continued stream, and at last formed a bright sphere, which perpetually increased by the rushing forward of the flames. Soon the flames ceased to issue forth to the same length, and I could perceive that they formed themselves into different figures, which stood as it were on the surface of the sphere, but which, far from remaining stationary, were ever melting one into another, so that the eye could not follow them in their variations. And now I saw that the energies of the flames were not any longer directed to the enlargement of the sphere, but to the varying of the different shapes on the surface; and I perceived that every new aspect was more beautiful than that which preceded it. The sphere was already so large, that it included in its compass the child, now no longer visible. Presently several small globules of flame darted beyond the sphere, and remained suspended at some little distance from its surface; the hue of these grew gradually more white and silvery, till at last they expanded into globular mirrors, each of which, on the side turned towards the sphere, reflected the child in a very minute form, notwithstanding the concealment from my own eyes of the child itself. The voices of the children in the anti-room through which I had passed, were then heard singing, as in great joy :

Ever moving-on! on! on!
Quick, and let the goal be won.
Though the goal itself be moving,
You must never rest from loving;
And although you never gain it,
Strive for ever to attain it.

Eros bids you onward haste,

Till each obstacle be pass'd,

Though he bids the barriers grow,

He sends you to overthrow.

Eros wages endless strife,

Conqu❜ring Death, and conqu'ring Life;
And the strife shall never cease-

'Tis a strife for love and peace.

And the vanquish'd his victories ne'er shall deplore,

But the more that he conquers, they love him the more.

Soon the little mirrors began to dart forth flames from their own centre; and I could see that these acted on the flames of the sphere, bending them now this way, now that, so that the variations were infinitely increased. After they had acted thus for some time, I observed a kind of twinkling in the mirrors; they seemed to grow dimmer"You have not yet paid for the globe, sir," said a voice.

At this commercial observation the whole scene vanished, and I found myself in the optician's shop, with my elbow on the counter, and my chin on my elbow, face to face with the optician, who now looked a very ordinary, unimaginative, unspeculative personage-in fact, I found that all I had seen and heard-including even the optician's remarks on nature and art, were but the reverie of HEPHÆSTUS.

THE PLEASURES OF GENIUS.

A POEM, IN THREE PARTS.

BY JOHN A. HERAUD,

Author of "The Judgement of the Flood," "The Descent into Hell," &c.

PART THE THIRD.

ARGUMENT.

Genius and Childhood; Wordsworth-Hogarth-The Future Age-Not Nature but Spirit only equal to the realisation of the ideas of Genius-Perfected Humanity -Genius a Blessing in itself—Cases of individual deficiency-The Fall of ManLife the Artist's Quarry-Palmyra-Philopomen-The influence of ExampleThe Progress of Human Improvement-The Goth-Vasco-Columbus-America -Franklin-Indian Sports Mississippi-Niagara- Premonitions - Necessity for a visible Type of the Absolute-Apprehended by Poets in the Purity of its Essence Apostrophe to Britain-The Spirit of the Age-The New Dispensation of Love-Eros and Anteros-The World without, an Image of the World within-Conclusion.

"YES! Genius is a Child-a winged Boy-
Will, his strong master-his best wages, Joy-
'Scaped from constraint, the nursery or the school,
He wanders wild amidst the Wonderful;
With Nature talks beside the waterfall,

Or Echo hidden in the ruined hall;

The sportive nymphs, with more than rapture woos,
Who play in plighted clouds or rainbow's hues;

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