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cause of education, zealous in matters of ecclesiastical, political, or social reform; right or wrong, always intensely practical and single-hearted in his honest zeal; a champion for truth, whether in the history of ancient politics or present questions of modern society; and, with all, never suffering the love of poetry to be extinguished in his heart, or to be crowded out of it, but turning it perpetually to wise uses, bringing the poetic truths of Shakspeare and of Wordsworth to the help of the cause of truth; his enthusiasm for the poets breaking forth when he exclaims, "What a treat it would be to teach Shakspeare to a good class of young Greeks in regenerate Athens; to dwell upon him line by line and word by word, and so to get all his pictures and thoughts leisurely into one's mind, till I verily think one would, after a time, almost give out light in the dark, after having been steeped, as it were, in such an atmosphere of brilliance!""

TRAGIC POETRY.

Tragic poetry has been well described as "poetry in its deepest earnest." The upper air of poetry is the atmosphere of sorrow. This is a truth attested by every department of art,-the poetry of words, of music, of the canvas, and of marble. It is so, because poetry is a reflection of life; and when a man weeps, the passions that are stirring within him are mightier than the feelings which prompt to cheerfulness or merriment. The smile plays on the countenance; the laugh is a momentary and noisy impulse; but the tear rises slowly and silently from the deep places of the heart. It is at once the symbol and the relief of an o'ermastering grief; it is the language of emotions to which words cannot give utterance,-passions whose very might and depth give them a sanctity we instinctively recognise by veiling them from the common gaze. In childhood, indeed, when its little griefs and joys are blended with that absence of self-consciousness which is both the bliss and the beauty of its innocence, tears are shed without restraint or disguise; but when the selfconsciousness of manhood has taught us that tears are the expression of emotions too sacred for exposure, the heart will often break rather than violate this instinct of our nature. Tragic poetry, in dramatic, or epic, or what form soever, has its original, its archetype, in the sorrows which float like clouds over the days of human existence. Afflictions travel across the earth on errands mysterious, but merciful, could we but understand them; and the poet, fashioning the likeness of them in some sad story, teaches the imaginative lesson of their influences upon the heart.

1 Arnold's Life, p. 284, (American edition,) in a letter to Mr. Justice Coleridge.

WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER.

WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER, whose name is associated with the literature of the West, was born in Philadelphia in 1808, and in 1816 migrated with his widowed mother to Cincinnati, and became a printer. In 1831 he was married, and shortly after edited the "Cincinnati Mirror," contributing himself much to its columns. Subsequently he was connected with the "Western Literary Journal and Monthly Review," with the "Western Monthly Magazine," and with the "Hesperian, a Monthly Miscellany of General Literature." In 1839, the late Charles Hammond offered to share with him the editorship of the "Cincinnati Gazette," with which he continued to be connected till 1849, when he was appointed a clerk in the Treasury Department at Washington. In 1853, he removed to Kentucky, where he now resides, on a farm a few miles from Louisville.

In 1835, Mr. Gallagher published a small volume of poems under the title of Erato; and, in the two following years, the second and third parts of the same. In 1841, he edited a volume of choice poetry entitled Selections from the Poetical Literature of the West; and in 1846, a collection of his own pieces that he esteemed the best, under the simple title of Poems. Of his numerous prose contributions to magazines, reviews, &c. he has never made a collection.

TRUTH AND FREEDOM.

On the page that is immortal,
We the brilliant promise see:-
"Ye shall know the truth, my people,
And its might shall make you free!'

For the truth, then, let us battle,
Whatsoever fate betide;

Long the boast that we are freemen

We have made and publish'd wide.
He who has the truth, and keeps it,
Keeps what not to him belongs,—
But performs a selfish action,

That his fellow-mortal wrongs.

He who seeks the truth, and trembles
At the dangers he must brave,
Is not fit to be a freeman,-

He at best is but a slave.

He who hears the truth, and places
Its high promptings under ban,
Loud may boast of all that's manly,
But can never be a man!

Friend, this simple lay who readest,
Be not thou like either them,—

But to truth give utmost freedom,
And the tide it raises stem.

Bold in speech and bold in action
Be forever!-Time will test,
Of the free-soul'd and the slavish,
Which fulfils life's mission best.

Be thou like the noble ancient,

Scorn the threat that bids thee fear:
Speak!-no matter what betide thee;
Let them strike, but make them hear!

Be thou like the first apostles,

Be thou like heroic PAUL:
If a free thought seek expression,
Speak it boldly,-speak it all!
Face thine enemies,-accusers;
Scorn the prison, rack, or rod;
And, if thou hast truth to utter,
Speak, and leave the rest to GOD!

THE LABORER.

Stand up-erect! Thou hast the form
And likeness of thy God!--who more?

A soul as dauntless mid the storm

Of daily life, a heart as warm

And pure, as breast e'er wore.

What then?-Thou art as true a man

As moves the human mass among;
As much a part of the great plan
That with Creation's dawn began,
As any of the throng.

Who is thine enemy? the high

In station, or in wealth the chief?
The great, who coldly pass thee by,
With proud step and averted eye?
Nay! nurse not such belief.

If true unto thyself thou wast,

What were the proud one's scorn to thee?

A feather, which thou mightest cast

Aside, as idly as the blast

The light leaf from the tree.

No:-uncurb'd passions, low desires,
Absence of noble self-respect,
Death, in the breast's consuming fires,
To that high nature which aspires
Forever, till thus check'd;—

These are thine enemies,-thy worst;
They chain thee to thy lowly lot:

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GEORGE STILLMAN HILLARD was born at Machias, Maine, on the 22d of September, 1808, and, after a due preparatory course of study at the Boston Latin School, he entered Harvard College in 1824. In 1833, he was admitted to the Suffolk County (Boston) Bar, and has ever since been engaged in the practice of his profession in that city. In 1845, he was elected to the Common Council of Boston, and served a year and a half as its President. In 1836, he was a member of the House of Representatives of Massachusetts, and was elected to the State Senate in 1850, where he exhibited abilities which elicited warm commendation from his friends. But politics is evidently not a field congenial to the tastes and feelings of Mr. Hillard. It is in the higher and purer walks of literature that this polished scholar shows himself to be at home; and here he has won a fame for refined taste, purity of style, and elevation of moral sentiment scarcely second to any one in our country.

Mr. Hillard's publications are as follows:-Fourth of July Oration before the City Authorities of Boston, 1835; Discourse before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, 1843; Connection between Geography and History, 1846; Address before the Mercantile Library Association of Boston, 1850; Address before the New York Pilgrim Society, 1851; Eulogy on Daniel Webster before the City Authorities of Boston, 1852; Six Months in Italy,' of which five editions have been published; a series

"The mass of information contained in these two volumes is immense; the criticisms novel, and, in our humble opinion, judicious; the writer's own thoughts and feelings beautifully expressed. Mr. Hillard is evidently

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a scholar, a man of taste and feeling; something, we should opine, of a poet; and unmistakably a gentleman."-Frazer's Magazine. Of this interesting work, Ticknor & Fields have published the sixth edition, in their usual style of beauty.

of "Class Readers," four in number, for schools, consisting of extracts in prose and verse, with biographical and critical notices of the authors; Guizot's "Essay on the Character and Influence of Washington," translated from the French, 1840; an edition of Spenser, in five volumes, with an Introduction and Notes; "Selections from the Writings of Walter Savage Landor," 1856. He also prepared, in 1844, "A Selection from the Writings of Henry R. Cleveland, with a Memoir."2

Mr. Hillard was for some time one of the editors of the "American Jurist," and has contributed valuable articles to the "North American Review,” "Christian Examiner," and "New England Magazine." To him also we are indebted for the life of the leader of the first settlers in Virginia-CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH-to be found in the second volume of Sparks's "Library of American Biography."

EXCURSION TO SORRENTO.3

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On the morning of March 19th, I left Naples for Sorrento, making one of a party of five. The cars took us to Castellamare, a town beautifully situated between the mountains and the sea, much resorted to by the Neapolitans in the heats of summer. lover of nature could hardly find a spot of more varied attractions. Before him spreads the unrivalled bay,-dotted with sails and unfolding a broad canvas, on which the most glowing colors and the most vivid lights are dashed,—a mirror in which the crimson and gold of morning, the blue of noon, and the orange and yellowgreen of sunset behold a lovelier image of themselves, a gentle and tideless sea, whose waves break upon the shore like caresses, and never like angry blows. Should he ever become weary of waves and languish for woods, he has only to turn his back upon the sea and climb the hills for an hour or two, and he will find himself in the depth of sylvan and mountain solitudes,-in a region of vines, running streams, deep-shadowed valleys, and broad-armed oaks,-where he will hear the ring-dove coo and see the sensitive hare dart across the forest aisles. A great city is within an hour's reach; and the shadow of Vesuvius hangs over the landscape, keeping the imagination awake by touches of mystery and terror.

From Castellamare to Sorrento, a noble road has within a few years past been constructed between the mountains and the sea,

I consider these among the best reading-books for schools, evincing good taste and judgment in the selections, and just views in the critical notices.

2 I always regretted that this valuable volume of Essays and Dissertations was only "printed for private distribution," and not published for the general good. 3 About eighteen miles southeast of Naples.

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