I have hardly left myself room to say any thing about Mr. Crawford's execution in marble; his skill in using the mechanical resources of the art. But you will readily conceive that one capable of treading with so sure a step in the higher walks of sculpture, must have already familiarized his hand with its practical details. One of the most beautiful pieces of marble work done in Rome last season, and by the confession of artists themselves, was his bust of Mr. Ingraham, an English gentleman, well known for his taste in the arts. Should you go to Washington, you will see a proof of my assertion, in a medallion of Botta, presented, either to the president or to the library, by Mr. Butler, of New-York. I had intended to give you an account of several other compositions of Mr. Crawford, which he has made, in the hope that the liberality of his countrymen, or of his country, may some day enable him to complete them. But it is time to bring this long letter to a close. I have indulged the more freely in these details, from their reviving, as it were, the hours we passed together within these holy walls, and calling up, with all the freshness of youthful hope, the fond anticipations in which we loved to indulge. I know that you will feel as I do, and that this picture of a young countryman, content to endure so much, in order that he might lay his foundation deep, by close and unwearied study; strong enough to resist the tempations so natural to us Americans, of rushing upon the stage before we are prepared to carry our parts through; I know, I say, that such a picture will awaken the same feelings in your mind that it has done in mine. Mr. Crawford has given six years to laborious preparations. He is now entering upon his career, with high hopes and a firm will. It is but just that he should be met on the threshold by his own countrymen. It is on their assistance that he must rely. It is to their applause that he must look, as his richest reward for the past, and the strongest excitement for the future. Let this letter give him his place, at least in your feelings, and lead you to look upon him with the same respect and affection as I do. Believe me, my dear LONGFELLOW, ever yours, U. S. CONSULATE : GEORGE W. GREENE. SONG. SOUNDS SO Sweetly never as when evening twilight falls, Then comes the silent Past, from the tomb of buried years, Familiar forms of dear ones gone, are then to me restored, O, ever dearest! wake for me, at quiet eventide, J. A. How bright the change, when bursting from the doom As light thus sheds its hallowed influence, With fond associations, ne'er forgot; Loves to repose where, by his favorite stream, With course as steady, with as mild a gleam, The soul of WASHINGTON, his duty done, Passed from the earth to triumph nobly won; When once the soul admits this gentle power, And makes each link by one strong impulse move. But soon a power beyond mere beauty grows, Where the wild stream from melting glacier springs, S. D. B. AN ADVERTISEMENT. I CONSIDER it a bounden duty, through this widely-extending medium, to advértise to the world that there are now floating over its happy surface two Individuals, of that bright order of Being called Woman, whose employment it seems to be to occupy alternately the hearts of their associates and acquaintance. One of the two is endowed with a spiritual and fervent imagination, of surpassing richness and exquisite variety of thought, and seems limited only in a single train of moral investigation and discovery; that, namely, which leads to an understanding and appreciation of her own rare gifts. The other, more balanced in her gracious faculties, acts out more calmly perhaps, if I could bring myself to employ such a term, I should say more perfectly - her own beautiful conceptions of goodness; and with an exacter justice, forms an estimate as well of herself as of surrounding objects. So also is the latter more defined than the former in that precision of outline which marks the space she fills in the imagination of the contemplator; and while the first is, as it were, the rainbow, whose arc is regular, but whose breadth and depth of celestial color no human eye can measure or fathom, the latter is like the planet, whose radiations of light are determined by fixed laws, both in their direction and extent. I suppose it difficult to fancy, as connected with this life, two Intelligences of greater purity and sweetness; the one in thought and conduct, and the other in conduct and thought. I long very much to call the one my Inspiration; and the other my Development; so precious are the ideas which the one induces, and the other personates; and such is the affinity between the two, that after having been in the .no, society of the one, I desire excessively to behold the other; from whose presence I would again return to the former, as to a fountain of waters in the leafy shades of deep retirement. The world, and thou too, perhaps, admired chronicler, might, under this description, greatly wonder that I should wish to advértise and disseminate the knowledge of these two Existences. The world, and thou too not thou, but the world — might opine that it were the discreeter, and therefore the better part, to keep unto my single self the pleasurable consciousness of two such treasuries of thought and goodness; or that if, in the elation of my heart, I were forced, like the Barber of Midas, to tell my secret or die, that I should, like him, retire into the fields, and whisper it to the very grass; telling the flowers of earth of these who are born to become hereafter the flowers of heaven. The reason that I cannot do this, thou wilt, upon ulterior thought, be at no loss to comprehend, when I tell thee that they are frequently about my path, which has now become a downward one; and often, all unconsciously to themselves, perhaps, do they shed rays of light across it, that my heart drinks up, when, as it were, I arrive at the passage over which they appear to my delighted fancy to have beamed; and though I might, for once or twice, go into the woods to ejaculate the expression of grateful feelings, that two such beings have ever been fashioned for man's irradiation and joy, yet beholding them often, and of late, I cannot satisfy myself without thy friendly aid, in order that thy entire world of readers may participate in the knowledge of such existence, if not in the pleasure of such society. To these thy readers would I address these lines. If of the better sex, be they henceforth happier than ever in the graces of their proper destiny, and in the consciousness of the healing pleasure, the inappreciable delight, which they have power to awaken in the soul, even of the stricken and the departing. If, on the other hand, they be of my own, let them realize the means of increased felicity and virtue which Heaven, in Woman, hath bestowed on man. JOHN WATERS. EARLY-MORNING EXERCISE. VOL. XV. 'Methinks I scent the morning air!' UP! up, arise!-haste, haste! the vernal morn Soft, soft glide down the stairs; thy hand I seize ; How fresh the air! how mild the early sun! How ring the wild notes through the neighboring wood! Rattle the pebbles of this shallow run; Thunders the bridge: ha! ha! in drowsy mood, Toss on the uneasy down who will 66 we, we are flown! |