THE 'EMPIRE OF THE WEST.' We would call the attention of our readers to a copious and able article in the January number of the North American Review, treating of 'Discovery beyond the Rocky Mountains.' It is a paper that should be read and meditated upon by every American. It gives a clear and compendious narrative of the progressive steps of discovery and occupation by which we acquired an indefeasible right to the Oregon territory, and places in a startling light the actual state of our affairs in that most important and interesting region. The reader will here find that our claim to a country 'equal in extent to the old United States, and stretching for nine or ten degrees along the great Pacific Ocean,' has become almost nullified, through the supineness of our own statesmen, and the wily and grasping policy of foreign traders. He will here find how Astoria, our original seat of empire, has been turned into a British fortified post and trading-house; how a foreign flag has been hoisted at the mouth of the Columbia, and how a mere trading company has seated itself at that great western portal of our empire, and actually locked it against our own citizens. What are the petty questions which occupy Congress, and distract it with clamorous contention, in comparison with the adjustment of this great territorial right, which involves mpire? What is the North-East Boundary question, which concerns a mere strip of forest land, to this, on which depends our whole territory west of the Rocky Mountains, and our great high-way to the Pacific? A little more delay on our part, and wily Commerce will have woven its web over the whole country, and it will cost thousands of lives, and millions of treasure, to break the meshes. We cannot help quoting some observations of the reviewer to the above purport: "We have continual cause to lament the undue prominence in the public mind, which trivial and secondary questions, the petty issues of petty party controversy, are allowed to usurp, to the postponement or neglect of matters infinitely more important in reality. The topics of popular discussion in newspapers and in conversation, as well as in the more formal and serious public debates, and the action of the government, make the fact to be continually obvious. Thus, in Congress, for minutes occupied in things of true consequence, hours, nay, days are consumed on trivialities, which will speedily be forgotten, and pass away for ever, as transitory and as insignificant in themselves as the motes, which play in the sunlight of a summer's noon. It has been so under every administration, of whatever party or opinion, the United States have seen. Hence it was, that the intrigues of the British companies among the Indians of the United States, and their general intrusion into our territory in the region of the Upper Mississippi and Upper Missouri, though repeatedly the subject of complaint and remonstrance on the part of observant men, as in this case of Captain Lewis, did not engage due attention from the government, until those intrigues and that intrusion resulted in the conclusion to have been anticipated from them, a general Indian war, which ravaged and desolated the whole region of the United States on the Ohio, the Lakes, and the Upper Mississippi. Transferred to another part of the territory of the United States, the same British companies, we fear, are now preparing the same dénouement of a like tragedy, by the same means, which failed to arouse the active resistance of our government of old, until savage massacre and conflagration burst on our western settlements; but the operations of which, it is to be hoped, the government of the United States, warned by that example, will arrest by measures of suitable energy. It is singular how practicable and easy the passage is across the Rocky Mountains. It seems as if Nature had provided a high-way for the caravans of commerce to pass from the Atlantic to the Pacific regions of our immense empire. The gradual rise of the country, in the vast slope from the Mississippi to the foot of the mountains,' says Major Pitcher, in his report, 'makes considerable elevation, without perceptible increase, and then the gaps or depressions let you through almost upon a level.' Wagons and carriages may cross the mountains without difficulty, and with little delay in the day's journey. In fact, Captain Bonneville passed over to the western side of the mountains with wagons, several years since, and so easy and gradual was the ascent, that he was only made aware of the great elevation to which he had attained, by the wood-work of his wheels coming loose, through the rarity of the atmosphere. By the way, we should like to hear more of Lake Bonneville, that remarkable body of salt-water on the western side of the mountains, mentioned in the narrative of the Captain's expeditions. It strikes us as one of the most singular phenomenons in that vast region of curiosities and wonders. We are glad to see that the reviewer pays a passing tribute to Mr. NATHANIEL J. WYETH. We have ever admired the spirited attempt of that enterprising individual, 'to rear once more the American flag in the lost domains of Astoria, and to regain for his country the opulent trade of the Columbia.' We regret that his intrepid and persevering efforts could not have been aided and enforced by government, so as to enable him to maintain the foot-hold which he had effected in the country. He appears to have had an energy and decision of character, and a scope of thought, that fitted him to follow out the great plans of Mr. ASTOR. All he wanted was the purse. my ENGLISH REMINISCENCES OF 'THE WAR-TIME,' DECATUR, ETC. — A distinguished literary friend, whose name, were we authorized to announce it, would give additional interest and force to the following reminiscence, writes us, in a letter referring to the anecdote of Sir Admiral HARVEY, in the last KNICKERBOCKER, as follows: 'Shortly after our last war, I was in Liverpool, where I became acquainted with the officers of the Eighty-Fifth, then stationed in that town. This regiment had served in the maraud upon the city of Washington, and one of the officers, Major BROWN, had received promotion for his services in that affair, having been left by the British, among the rest of their wounded, on their rapid retreat, after having set fire to the public buildings. He was a frank, worthy fellow, and took no merit to himself for his share in the affray. 'He acted,' he said, 'under orders, but his heart revolted at the whole transaction.' When he was left upon the scene of maraud, and the people of Washington recovered from their confusion and consternation, he anticipated rough treatment at their hands. 'How can it be otherwise,' thought he, 'when they see their public buildings smoking around them, and catch one of the offenders among the very ruins he has created?' On the contrary, nothing could be more kind and humane than the treatment of the wounded. As to BROWN, being an officer, and a young man, he was treated with peculiar attention. He received the best of nursing and attendance; he was continually receiving presents of comforts and delicacies from the ladies of the place; and declared that if he had been among his own country people, he could not have been treated more tenderly. 'Egad!' said he, 'they punished me with kindness. It was heaping coals of fire upon head. I almost wished they would treat me ill, for it made me feel like a culprit.' FROM the same source as the above, we derive the subjoined original anecdotes, related to the writer by the brave DECATUR, whose memory is so justly dear to every patriotic American: 'The late gallant DECATUR was a sailor to the very heart's core, and loved to tell anecdotes of the common sailors. I recollect one which he used to relate, to the following purport: In one of the actions before Tripoli, while fighting hand to hand with the captain of a gun-boat, DECATUR came near being cut down by a Turk, who attacked him from behind. A seaman named REUBEN JAMES, who was already wounded in both hands, seeing the risk of his commander, rushed in and received the blow of the uplifted sabre on his own head. Fortunately, the honest fellow survived to receive his reward. Sometime afterward, when he had recovered from his wounds, DECATUR sent for him on deck, expressed his gratitude for his self-devotion, in presence of the crew, and told him to ask for some reward. The honest tar pulled up his waist-band, and rolled his quid, but seemed utterly at a loss what recompense to claim. His mess-mates gathered around him, nudging him with their elbows, and whispering in his ear: 'He had all the world in a string, and could get what he pleased;' 'the 'old man' could deny him nothing,' etc. One advised this thing, another that; 'double pay,' 'double allowance,' 'a boatswain's berth,' 'a pocket-full of money, and a full swing on shore,' etc. Jack elbowed them all aside, and would have none of their counsel. After mature deliberation, he announced the reward to which he aspired; it was, to be excused from rolling up the hammock cloths! The whimsical request was of course granted; and from that time forward, whenever the sailors were piped to stow away their hammocks, Jack was to VOL. XV. 34 be seen loitering around, and looking on, with the most gentlemanlike leisure. He always continued in the same ship with DECATUR. 'I could always know the state of my bile by Jack,' said the commodore. If I was in good humor, and wore a pleasant aspect, Jack would be sure to heave in sight, to receive a friendly nod: if I was out of humor, and wore, as I sometimes did, a foul-weather physiognomy, Jack kept aloof, and skulked among the other sailors. It is proper to add, that REUBEN JAMES received a more solid reward for his gallant devotion, than the privilege above-mentioned, a pension having been granted to him by government. On another occasion, DECATUR had received at New-York the freedom of the city, as a testimonial of respect and gratitude. On the following day, he overheard this colloquy between two of his sailors: 'Jack,' said one, 'what is the meaning of this 'freedom of the city,' which they've been giving to the 'old man?' 'Why, don't you know? Why, it's the right to rollick about the streets, as much as he pleases; kick up a row; knock down the men, and kiss the women!' 'Oho!' cried the other; that's something worth fighting for!' --- . A PLEASANT PROSPECT. We alluded, recently, to Mr. FRANKENSTEIN, a young sculptor and artist, whose bust and portrait of our esteemed friend, Governor Seward, and his accomplished lady, he had lately taken, together with those of other distinguished state officers, and citizens of Albany. We have just heard, and with much gratification, that, in company with a kindred mind, and an accomplished artist, Mr. ROTHERMEL, Mr. FRANKENSTEIN, for the more ample study of the better portions of human nature, and the gratification of a passion for scenery, is about to travel through the country, tarrying for a brief space at the different places on their route, to practice their profession. They will leave Philadelphia for a jaunt through Pennsylvania, on or near the first of March instant; and we take pleasure in cordially commending them to the courteous attention of our readers in the Key-stone State, as well as elsewhere. ... To Readers and Correspondents.-Several articles, intended by the writers for the present issue, (among them an 'Ollapodiana,' and a sixth letter from the 'American in Paris,') were received too late for insertion, the number being ready for press on the 17th of February. The following will receive inmediate attention: The Cook, a Domestic Portrait ;' Fowling,' by Alfred B. Street, Esq.; 'Winter;' 'Lines on the Death of Lieut. Hulbert;' The White Fish;' 'The City by the Sea;' with several other papers, concerning which the writers have had private advisement. We shall continue, in subsequent numbers, the amusing History of the Devil,' by the author of Robinson Crusoe,' with other entertainments.' A review in detail of Carey on the Currency,' with notices of Mrs. Romeyn's Seminary, 'Albion' plate,' Southern Literary Messenger,' Tytler's Universal History,' Willis's Romance of Travel,'' The American Repertory,' etc., are in type for the April number. ... T. B. C.'s kind words are appreciated, but they are unfortunately, not deserved. We cannot claim the honor of being a Yankee, having been born and reared (' raised' they say in Fennsylvania, and at the South, where they put a man on a par with a vegetable,) in the Empire State,' in which we have good reason to be proud, even while we remember the glory of New-England, which we may share only as an American. We frequently observe, in the literary weekly journals of New-York, and her neighbor cities, attractive announcements of 'A new Tale by Washington Irving!' 'New Story by Geoffrey Crayon !' etc. It is proper to remark here, therefore, that Mr. Irving's communications appear originally in the Knickerbocker, and that he writes for no other work. Hence, the productions of Geoffrey Crayon will never be 'new' to any reader of this Magazine, in any other medium; as the work is now circulated to all our subscribers out of town a week before it is served in the city, although here it is delivered promptly on the first day of the mouth. Thus, before Mr. Irving's articles can reach the distant readers of the journals alluded to, they will have been perused a week or fortnight before, by every subscriber to the Knickerbocker. The present number, for example, is circulated to all its country readers a week previous to its punctual issue in town; and this arrangement will be steadily observed hereafter... A word here, touching a very small matter: In a labored and otherwise rather amusing communication, penned over the signature of the late joint Proprietor of this Magazine, a portion of the public have been informed, that during the last six years, but eleven pages per annum have been furnished from the Editor's pen.' The Editor must be permitted briefly to reply, that during this period, there appeared in the original department of Literary Notices' and' Editors' Table,' fourteen hundred and fifty pages of fine type, equal to two thousand nine hundred pages of the larger type, in the body of the work, in which also appeared some seventy additional pages from his pen. Take from these, at the very utmost, one hundred and forty pages, and there remain what would form two thousand seven hundred and sixty pages, in the type of the 'Original Papers,' contributed by the Editor to his own departments of the Magazine. Of the quality of these portions of the work, and the amount of originality which they exhibit, those of our readers who have perused twelve or thirteen volumes of the Knickerbocker, have probably formed a satisfactory estimate. The Editor can only regret that they were not better. It remains but to affirm, that the other statements of the communication alluded to, are just as true as the one we have cited, but no more so; and to repeat, that 'the services of the late joint proprietor were entirely confined to the business department;' that 'no articles were ever necepted or declined by him, nor did a line of his compo sition ever enter the Magazine.' IN perusing a late Review, containing a dissertation upon the works of the celebrated German writer, GOETHE, I find quoted from them the following strictures upon Shakspeare's Hamlet. As all Americans, who are readers, and have some literary pretensions, are interested in the right interpretation of our favorite poet and dramatist, I am assured it will not be deemed a work of mere supererrogation, that I should undertake to show the error into which Goëthe has fallen, in his attempt to sketch the character of Hamlet. In his 'Wilhelm Meister' may be found the subjoined criticism of Shakspeare's tragedy. Speaking of Hamlet, he says: Imagine to your self this youth, this king's son; figure to yourself accurately his position; and then observe him when he learns that the ghost of his father has appeared. Place yourself by his side, in that terrible night, when the venerable spirit itself appears to him. A prodigious horror seizes him; he addresses the wonderful apparition, sees it beckon to him, follows and hears. The terrible accusation against his uncle sounds in his ears the demand of vengeance, and the pressing and repeated supplication, Remember me!' And when the ghost has vanished, whom do we see standing before us? A young hero panting for revenge? A born prince, who rejoices that he is challenged against the usurper of his crown? No. Astonishment and despondency overcome the solitary youth. He is bitter against smiling villains, swears not to forget the departed, and concludes with the significant sigh: 'The times are out of joint; O cursed spite, In these words, methinks, lies the key to Hamlet's whole behaviour; and it is evident to me, that Shakspeare intended to depict a great deed imposed upon a soul which is not equal to the deed. And in this sense, I find the piece complete throughout. Here is an oak planted in a delicate vase, which was intended to hold flowers; the roots develope themselves, and the vase is shattered and destroyed.' Such is GOETHE'S conception of the character of Hamlet, in which, as is evident to me, he is entirely mistaken, and in which he shows that he never ascended to the dignity and even majesty of that hero's whole character. It was not because Hamlet was below the task assigned him by his father, that he discovered so much regret, chagrin, and even despondency, upon perceiving that the execution of it had fallen to his lot, but because he was above it. As modelled by the hands of Shakspeare, he is one of those fine, mercurial, and elevated spirits, who are capable of any enterprise which becomes a great and good man, who has the fear of God before his eyes, and the love of his fellow creatures in his heart; but it was with the deepest repugnance and inward horror, that by the revelations made to him from the ghost, he felt himself constrained to imbrue his hands in the blood of a fellow creature, and that fellow creature his uncle, and now his king, and the husband of his mother. Were these the sensations of a man incompetent to the task of avenging a father's wrongs? Did they not rather characterize him as the very person to whom a noble spirited father would choose to intrust the redress of his injuries, and the punishment of an atrocious offender? Was it ever yet thought a disqualification for his office in a judge, that in pronouncing sentence of death upon a criminal, his heart melted with compassion, and his mouth reluctantly uttered the dreadful penalties of the law? How much more strong emotions of repugnance to the part he was performing, might he be indulged in feeling, when he was to become not only the judge, but the executioner? Hamlet is represented by Shakspeare, not only as a youth of the finest capacity, and of a proud, bold, and magnanimous spirit, but also of elevated moral worth, and of a delicate and scrupulous conscience, and acutely alive to the hopes and fears of his religion. These were the feelings that caused him to look upon the part he was compelled to perform in life, by the wickedness of an uncle, with such extreme disquietude and agitation of mind. A remorseless villain would have assumed the office, and then have executed it with satisfaction, and more especially, when by so doing, he would not only punish a relative for supplanting him in the empire, but prepare the way for his own more speedy ascent to it. This is the kind of personage which Goëthe more than intimates he would have regarded as equal to the task which the elder Hamlet imposed upon his son. Such a young hero, panting for revenge, or born prince, rejoicing that he is challenged against the usurper of his crown,' might, indeed, at once, and without pain or compunction of conscience, have plunged a dagger into the bosom of the king, and brought the conflict to a speedy close. But such a hero would not have been a Hamlet, nor have suited the pencil of such a painter as Shakspeare, who delighted not in the portraiture of such monsters as Meister, Faust, and Mephistophiles, but in blending the mixed lights and shades that enter into real and natural characters, with whom human beings can cordially sympathize, and in whose features they can trace, under diversified modifications, their own likeness. After quoting these lines, 'The times are out of joint; O cursed spite, Goëthe remarks: In these words, methinks, lies the whole key to Hamlet's behaviour; and it is evident to me, that Shakspeare intended |