Chapter I: on "English Poetry," tracing as it does the rude and (4)

To trace a little further, the connection of mineral wealth with national prosperity, we may observe, that the wants of a people may be said to be mainly supplied, when they are provided with food, clothing and habitation, and they are better or worse supplied, according to the nature and abundance of the materials they possess for the fabrication of these, and the perfection of the instruments they may have, proper for fashioning them into convenient forms. The nation which can command for its subsistence, in greatest profusion, the varied vegetable and animal productions, of whatever clime, that constitute the necessaries and luxuries of life; whose well stored magazines of merchandize furnish, for its apparel, the finest fabrics and the richest stuffs; and which can boast, for its places of dwelling, the most commodious, splendid and durable edifices, with the various conveniences that necessarily keep pace with improvements in these, may be said, physically considered, to have well nigh attained the pinnacle of prosperity. Let us observe in what manner the mineral substances to which we have alluded, contribute to accomplish this end. Let us suppose man rude and barbarous, for the first time, to be presented with that best of gifts--iron; and for the sake of proceeding, let us anticipate the slow progress of events, and give it to him in the form into which he would soon convert it--that of the simplest implements. Instantly his habits are changed: his wandering mode of life is abandoned: his abode becomes fixed, and he himself devoted to labor. In a little time, the rugged face of nature is made to assume a softened and a brightened aspect, and to smile upon him with a novel beauty. The ample and ancient forest, his former range, falls with continued crash, day after day, beneath the repeated stroke of his axe: on all sides, broad and sunny plains open around him: the broken soil heaved up to the influence of the atmosphere by his plough, or stirred with his hoe, begins to yield in abundance the fruits of the earth; the prostrate timber rent asunder by his wedge, and hewed, sawed, or chiseled into appropriate shapes, furnishes materials of building: these, arranged and secured by means of pins or nails of the same material, rise in orderly succession one above another, till there is erected for his habitation a comfortable and commodious dwelling:--while the surrounding fields, now that he has ample food in store for their support, are overspread with the flocks he has domesticated, to provide for his use unfailing supplies of clothing and subsistence. Already he has made himself acquainted with the rudiments of agriculture, architecture and manufactures, and has laid the foundation of the useful arts.

Compare his condition now, with that in which he existed before his acquaintance with the uses of iron: contrast the savage of the forest with the cultivator of the field--the scanty and precarious sustenance of the one, with the regular and abundant subsistence of the other--the covering of skin, with the garment of wool--the hut, with the commodious dwelling--the hardships attendant on one mode of life, with the numerous conveniences that follow as a necessary train to the other; and from this rough-drawn and very imperfect outline, there may be formed some slight idea of the revolution {485} effected in the condition of man, even by a limited acquaintance with the simpler uses of this single, though most important of all the mineral substances.

It is scarcely necessary to direct the reader's attention to the accession to the comforts, the conveniences, the elegancies of life, or to the vast acquisitions to the power of man, which, in successive periods of time, have been gained by a more extended and familiar acquaintance with the various properties of iron, and the innumerable purposes to which, with increased advantage, human ingenuity has discovered it to be applicable. It is sufficient to turn the eye on some great and populous city--the seat of busy manufactures;--on a Sheffield, a Manchester, or a Birmingham,--those nurseries of the arts, and workshops of the world: to view its immense establishments in active operation, and look on the tens of thousands of the industrious they maintain and employ. It is sufficient to hear the eternal din and incessant roar of stupendous machinery, laboring in the service of man, in obedience to laws and impulses he has given to it;--to see its multifarious and complicated parts performing each its allotted movement;--swinging heavily, with measured time, and force, or shooting to and fro with regulated rapidity; revolving slowly, and lazily around, or flying with inconceivable velocity, and whirling smoothly, each in its proper sphere,--moving, all in harmonious cooperation, to effect some beneficial end, with a precision unerring--as if impressed with the intelligence and volition of animated being. It is sufficient, to be convinced of the great acquisition we have in iron, to witness the wondrous effects of the steam-engine,--that giant machine, which performs to our hands the labor of countless hosts; which enables us to penetrate into the secret recesses of the solid earth, and to master the ocean, and the very elements themselves. "It rows, it pumps, it excavates, it carries, it draws, it lifts, it hammers, it spins, it weaves, it prints;"--that masterpiece of human skill, which, in the language of the celebrated Doctor Black, is the most valuable present ever made by philosophy to the arts.

Again, when we behold materials of every known description, in the rude state in which nature presents them, before they have been subjected to the first elementary process in their manufacture, and look upon them, after they have undergone the various mechanical operations to which they are successively submitted, and are produced in a finished state, of every form and fashion that can minister to the wants, or gratify the caprice of man, we almost doubt their identity, and are at a loss which most to admire, the utility of the substance by means of which so wonderful a change has been effected, or the sagacity of him, who moulds and constructs it into complicated machines, to which he gives motion and almost life, to work out his own advantage. And, lastly, when there is displayed before us the endless variety of manufactured goods and wares;---of instruments, and implements, and utensils;--of machines, and engines, and mechanical contrivances to abridge human labor; when we gaze on the immense fleets that wait to receive them, in an hundred ports of some great manufacturing country, or survey the seas whitened with the sails, and heaving beneath the burthens of whole navies, busied in transporting them to distant and expectant nations, and even piloted in their course, through the wide and trackless waste of waters, with unerring accuracy, by a property peculiar to iron,--we turn from the contemplation more fully persuaded of the extent to which we are indebted to this single metal, to which in truth, if we except the spontaneous productions of nature, (of little comparative value unwrought,) we owe every thing we possess.

We are enabled, perhaps, by this review, hasty though it has been, of the numerous and varied uses of iron, better to estimate its real worth, and we do not hesitate to assign to it, an importance among the elements of national prosperity of the highest order, and to consider it, what truly it is, the most valuable of all acquisitions. We look upon the country rich in the possession of its ores, with feelings of rivalry, and are prompted to emulate her in acquiring this true species of substantial wealth. Our national ambition is excited to grasp at this mighty instrument of power, and our energies should be roused into ceaseless activity, until, by untiring assiduity in surveying and exploring our own tempting regions, guided by the lights borrowed from geological science, we succeed in enlarging our mineral domain to at least an equal extent.

Before proceeding to the consideration of any other of the substances we have proposed to treat of, it may not be improper, here, to annex (more in the form of notes) a few facts illustrative of the history of the very interesting mineral which has occupied our attention in the preceding remarks.

Of all the metals, iron is the most widely and universally distributed, being confined to no particular formation as its repository, but discoverable in every class of rocks, from the oldest granite to the newest alluvial deposit. It is also the most abundant of the metallic ores: whole mountains composed of it occurring in the northern parts of the globe. As instances of the great masses in which it is found, it may be mentioned, that the sparry iron ore found in the floetz limestone in Stiria, has been worked to an immense extent and with great profit, for more than twelve hundred years: and, that the Rio mountain in the island of Elba, five hundred feet in height and three miles in circumference, known at an early day to the Romans, (in which mines are still wrought,) is wholly composed of specular iron ore. Though this metal, as we have stated, exists in every kind of rock and soil, it has been remarked, that the dark oxides or its richest ores are confined exclusively to primitive rocks. The ores are generally, it has also been observed, of a purer quality, and more abundant in northern regions. What are denominated iron-stones, or the ores containing a larger proportion of earthy matter, are found in the secondary strata, and exist commonly in great abundance in those accompanying coal.

Although iron was known in the remotest ages, and was in use among some particular nations even at a time anterior to the deluge, according to Moses, (Gen. iv. 22) we are not to presume it was in general use:

"Him Tubal nam'd, the Vulcan of old times
The sword and falchion their invention claim;
And the first smith was the first murderer's son."

Nor must we forget, that the useful arts, and among them the art of working metals, were lost to the {486} generality of mankind, in consequence of that universal calamity. Gold, silver and copper seem to be the metals of which the knowledge and uses were earliest recovered after that period; owing, no doubt, to their being oftener found on the surface of the earth, or in the beds of streams--to their more frequent occurrence in the metallic state, and to the greater ease with which they are separated from their ores. Copper, though greatly inferior to iron, yet possesses considerable tenacity, and sufficient hardness to furnish a substitute in the construction of cutting instruments, and either pure, or alloyed with tin to increase its hardness, constituted the materials of which were formed the swords, hatchets, and artist's tools of many ancient nations. The arms and tools of the American nations were similarly made, and by means of this awkward substitute, the Mexicans and Peruvians made considerable advances in manufactures and the arts--greater perhaps than any other people unacquainted with the use of iron. The inconvenience experienced by these nations from their ignorance of this metal, and the awkward expedients to which in consequence they had recourse, afford an important lesson in teaching us what estimate to make of the value of a substance, which, its very requisiteness to every common purpose of life so familiarizes us with, as to cause us daily to pass by with little or no notice. The evils which we are taught would inevitably follow its loss, make a deeper impression of its importance, than all the advantages, manifold though they be, which in heedless enjoyment, we are continually deriving from its possession. With no better substitute for iron tools in cutting stone, than the sharp edged fragments of flint,--without carriages, or machines of any kind,--how tedious and laborious must have been the work of separating from the quarry, of shaping, of transporting to a distance, and elevating to a proper height, the huge blocks of stone with which the Mexicans and Peruvians contrived to erect their temples and other public edifices!--structures that have commanded the admiration of more modern nations. What toil and what time must have been expended in the operation of dividing a single block, by means of continued rubbing of one rock against another! What pains and what efforts of ingenuity must it have cost the artizans of Montezuma, without the aid of nails, to form the ceilings of his palace, by an arrangement of the planks so artificial, as mutually to sustain each other! With what eagerness the Peruvian would have accepted nails of iron, to fasten together the pieces of timber he employed in building, and have laid aside as worthless, the cords of hemp his necessities compelled him to apply to that purpose! What an acquisition would have been even a common needle, in the place of the thorn, to which, in the fashioning of their cotton garments, they were obliged to have recourse!

Iron differs from the metals we have mentioned as earliest known, by its occurring rarely in a metallic state, and being then most difficult of fusion: its uses were in consequence a later discovery. The methods, besides, of disengaging it from the ores in which it is usually found in nature, are far from being obvious, consisting of various processes,--such as pounding, roasting, smelting in contact with charcoal, to render it fusible; requiring too, additional heatings and hammerings to render it malleable, and a still more complicated process to convert it into steel. Yet it was in use, as has been remarked, in very remote ages: Moses, in Deuteronomy, makes frequent mention of it. He speaks of mines of iron, and alludes to furnaces for melting it; and from the circumstance of swords, knives, axes, and tools for cutting stone, constructed of that metal, being mentioned by the same authority, we are entitled to conclude that the art of tempering and converting it into steel was also known. The mode of tempering it was certainly known to the Greeks as early as the days of Homer; for that poet borrows from the art some of his similes. Thus in the Oddyssey:

And as, when arm'rers temper in the ford
The keen-edged pole-axe, or the shining sword,
The red hot metal hisses in the lake,
So in his eye-ball hiss'd the plunging stake.

It is by its conversion into steel, that we are furnished with a material retentive of an edge, and adapted to cutting the hardest substances, and are enabled to fabricate that most important class of implements, edge-tools, all of which, from the ponderous pit saw to the finest lancet, are formed in part with this metal.

It was not, however, until very late in modern times, that we may be said to have acquired absolute dominion over this individual of the mineral kingdom, so as to be able at command, to press it into service, whatever may be its locality, in relation to the surface of the earth or its interior. For, before the improvements made in the steam-engine by the discoveries of Watts, we were limited in the power of availing ourselves of the known existence of iron, however abundant in any particular spot, by the necessity of the concurrence of a stream of water in the same location with that of the metal, as a means of impelling the machinery for producing the blast requisite in the operation of smelting. Since those improvements, steam power may be employed wherever the ore and fuel is found in sufficient quantities to authorize the erection of furnaces; and the manufacture of iron has in consequence, especially in Great Britain, risen into great importance. The annual produce of smelted ore in that kingdom, is estimated now to be about seven hundred thousand tons.

We cannot avoid suggesting here, to the owners and workers of coal property in Virginia, the propriety of investigating the strata through which they necessarily pass in their mining operations, with reference to the discovery of argillaceous iron-stone, with more minuteness than hitherto they have done--if indeed, (which we are inclined to doubt,) their attention has been in any degree directed to such examination. It is from this species of iron-stone, accompanying coal-strata, that Great Britain derives at least nineteen twentieths of the metals which she possesses in such abundance, and to which, in connection with its convenient location in the immediate vicinity of the fuel necessary in its reduction, she owes her towering eminence as a manufacturing country. The coal formation of Virginia contains the same clays, shales, sandstones and slates, and these are characterized by the same vegetable impressions that mark the series in other countries. And may we not reasonably ask, why should we hastily conclude this usual concomitant of the coal strata in England, Scotland, France and Germany, to be wanting here; or rather, why may not we hope to find it equally abundant in our own coal district. We are induced to {487} urge this suggestion the more, from the circumstance, that this species of ore presents in its external characters, so little indicative of its metallic nature or chemical composition, that but for its greater weight, it might well escape the notice of an inexperienced or unobservant eye, unless arrested by some such hope as we have been induced to hold out. Even in England, where from its great abundance it might have been expected to be generally better known, instances have occurred in some districts, of its being wastefully misapplied, through ignorance, to the common purpose of mending the roads. The immense benefits that would result from success attending a research directed to this object, as well to the city of Richmond, as to a few fortunate individuals, are too obvious to require comment. It is sufficient to remark, that it would prove an abundant source of individual wealth, and would, in connection with her other great advantages and increasing facilities of transportation, be the means of elevating the metropolis of Virginia to an exalted rank in the class of large cities, and enable her to vie in importance with the proudest seat of manufactures, or the most extensive emporium of commerce.

It was our intention, as our title announces, to have passed rapidly on, and glanced at the history, uses, and national importance of coal, and some of the most valuable of the other mineral substances, as well as to have pointed out in a short series of remarks, some of the advantages to be derived from the cultivation and pursuit of mineralogical and geological inquiries in connection with this subject; but we have loitered on the way, and the contracting limits of our paper admonish us to hasten to a close. We may at another time, if leisure permit, and if on reflection, we deem our endeavors at all likely to attract attention to subjects which have too long been almost universally neglected, again resume, after our own fashion, a subject which under better management, could not fail to prove interesting as well as instructive.

GAMMA.

_Henrico, April 28th, 1835_.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

LETTERS FROM A SISTER.

LETTER ELEVENTH.

Malmaison, Tomb of the Ex-Empress Josephine--Engine for Conveying Water to Versailles and St. Cloud--St. Germain en Laye--Nanterre--St. Geneviéve.

PARIS, ----.

_Dear Jane:_

Although quite fatigued, I cannot retire to rest ere I have rendered my dear sister an account of to-day's excursion to St. Germain and to Malmaison the favorite residence of the late Ex-Empress Josephine. We took an early breakfast, and sat off by ten o'clock; the Danvilles in their carriage, accompanied by Sigismund, and we in a remise, or, as it is termed in England, a glass coach. We soon alighted at Malmaison, it being only two leagues from Paris, and spent more than an hour in walking over the house and grounds, and thinking of poor Josephine. A great deal of the furniture yet remains as she left it; even her music books are kept as she arranged them. The room she occupied as her chamber, is exceedingly beautiful. It is circular, lined with cloth of crimson and gold, and surrounded by mirrors inserted in the walls and doors. The bed is supported by golden swans, and the coverlid and curtains are of silver lama. In the library we saw the writing table and inkstand of Napoleon. The first bears evident marks of his penknife; which, while meditating, he used to strike into the wood. The domestic who conducted us through the apartments, spoke of the Ex-Empress with great affection; and so did the gardener, a West India negro, whose ebony visage was a novel spectacle to us. They said she was beloved by all the household and neighborhood, for her affability and kindness. The green house is filled with gay and choice flowers and shrubs; and it is melancholy to reflect that these the frailest productions of nature, have outlived their lovely mistress, and still blossom and flourish and shed their fragrance around, while she, like a shadow has passed away! After following awhile the windings of a stream that meanders through the garden, we found ourselves at the threshold of a pretty little temple dedicated to Cupid. The mischievous urchin himself, treading upon roses, is placed in the centre, and on the pedestal beneath him, this vindictive couplet is inscribed:

Il l'est, le fut, ou le doit être,
Qui que ce soit, voici ton Maitre.

We quitted the shades of Malmaison with regret, and proceeded to the neighboring village of Ruelle to visit the tomb of Josephine in the church there, where her ashes repose. The monument is of white marble, and was erected to her memory by Eugene Beauharnais, her son. On its summit she is represented clad in a folding robe with a diadem on her head, and kneeling before an open breviary. It is a handsome tribute of filial love.

Near Ruelle is a chateau that once belonged to Cardinal Richelieu, and since then to Marshal Massena, whose widow still inhabits it.[1] Being informed that the family were absent and that it was customary for strangers to visit this sojourn of those distinguished men, we drove there; and, alighting from our carriages, were demanding permission of a person in the yard to see the mansion and its grounds, when a lady suddenly made her appearance, and we had the mortification to find that we were intruding on the privacy of Madame Massena herself. We immediately explained our mistake, and would have come away but she insisted on our entering, and was so polite that we could not refuse. The chateau is very plain, and furnished with corresponding simplicity. In front of it is a limpid sheet of water, and behind it a pleasant garden, where we wandered awhile and then took leave, gratified with our adventure, awkward as it was at the commencement.

[Footnote 1: This lady is since dead. She died soon afterwards.]

Retracing our steps a short distance, we continued our ride to Saint Germain en Laye, and observed on our left a stupendous steam engine which, on inquiry, we found is used for supplying the fountains of Versailles and Saint Cloud with water from the Seine, and has succeeded the famous machine of Marly. This machine had become so decayed in some parts before its removal, that it occasioned the death of several persons who were examining its construction--and heedlessly stepped on an old board, which giving way they {488} were precipitated into the river and drowned, or crushed to death by the wheels. Saint Germain en Laye derives its name from the extensive forest adjoining it, which is considered the finest in France, and has ever been the favorite hunting ground of the French monarchs. While partaking of the pleasures of the chase they inhabited the spacious palace, that still exists and is at present a barracks for soldiers. That abject king James the Second, resided in it twelve years, supported by the munificence of Louis le grand, and finally closed his earthly career in this noble retreat. He was buried in the adjoining church, and his heart is enshrined in a paltry looking altar, before which a lamp is constantly burning, and upon which is an inscription informing the reader why it was erected. But what renders the palace at Saint Germain peculiarly interesting, is its having been the residence of the Duchess de la Vallière; and in the ceiling of one of the rooms appropriated to her use there is a trap door, through which it is supposed her enamored sovereign descended when he visited her clandestinely. On the left of the castle is a terrace one mile in length, and bordering an acclivity that overhangs the Seine, and is highly cultivated in vineyards and fruit trees. This terrace is much frequented by persons who resort there, for the purpose of enjoying fresh air and a fine prospect. Some go in carriages, but the usual mode of conveyance is by a donkey, and this we chose. The streets of the town are wide and the houses generally large; which might be expected, as court festivities were so often held here; and now-a-days, many of the Parisian gentry pass the summer months here.

We finished the day by dining at a neat auberge, (inn) with a garden teeming with flowers just in front of our parlor. Returning home we passed through the village of Nanterre, (the birthplace of St. Geneviéve) and stopped an instant to buy some of the cakes for which it is renowned; they are merely buns, and we did not think them deserving of their fame. _Nanterre beer_ and _Nanterre sausages_ are also held in great estimation, but of these we did not taste, being quite satisfied with our trial of the cakes. I imagine you know the history of St. Geneviéve; though lest you should not, I will tell you in a few words that she was a shepherdess, whose virtues and piety caused her to be canonized after her death, and made the patron saint of Paris. There is a lovely picture of her at the Louvre, by Pierre Guerin, representing her turning a spindle while guarding her flock. Good night.

LEONTINE.

* * * * *

LETTER TWELFTH.

Lafayette and his Family--Sévres Manufactory--Palace of St. Cloud--Madame de Genlis--Savoyards--Ballet of Mars and Venus.

Paris, -----.

_Dear Jane:_--

We have formed acquaintance with some delightful characters since I wrote to you a few days since. We have been introduced to the good and brave General Lafayette and his family! On Wednesday he came with his son, Mr. George Lafayette, to see Mr. Danville, and the latter presented us to them. The print you have seen of this distinguished patriarch, is a correct likeness; and his manners are as benevolent as his countenance. He has a soirée on every Wednesday night, and we have gladly accepted the kind and pressing invitation he gave each of us to attend them. The ladies of the family, consisting of his daughters, his grand-daughters, and daughter-in-law Madame G. Lafayette, have also called, and we find them very amiable and pleasing. We have likewise had an introduction to Madame de Genlis, for which we are indebted to Mrs. Danville; who, rightly conjecturing it would be gratifying to us to know this celebrated lady, and being well acquainted with her, requested her permission to present us to her. This was readily granted, and this morning appointed for the visit. Accordingly, after an early ride to the Sévres manufactory of porcelain and the palace of Saint Cloud, the most splendid of all the king's habitations, we repaired to her residence. On arriving we were conducted up stairs by a tidy looking _femme de chambre_ and ushered through a small bed-room, plainly furnished, into an apartment that, from the variety of its contents, might be compared to Noah's ark. Besides the usual appendages of a parlor, it contained a piano, a harp, a guitar, a folding screen, and several tables loaded with books, papers, baskets and boxes, &c. We found the venerable authoress seated in an arm chair, near the window. Her regular and delicate features and fair skin, still indicate former beauty. Her nose is aquiline, and her eyes clear blue; as they are weak, she is obliged to wear a green shade to protect them from the light, but has never yet found it necessary to use spectacles: this is astonishing, for she will be eighty-two on the 25th of next January! She wore a black silk gown, and a simple muslin cap; and when Mrs. Danville introduced us she offered her hand to each, and as soon as we were seated entered into conversation with a degree of vivacity that quite surprised us; we were still more so, at her vanity. She talked a great deal about her own works, and in their praise! We asked her if she continued to play on the harp. "Oh oui! très bien!" she replied. "And on the piano and the guitar, Madame?" "Oh, oui, tout, tout, très bien!" She told us she often practised on the harp and composed in prose at the same time; and that while reciting verses aloud in a distinct voice and with strict attention to punctuation and emphasis, she could read a page from any author and then recount to you in regular rotation, every idea therein expressed; and this proved, she said, that the mind is capable of two operations at once. Papa observed that Charles the Twelfth of Sweden, proved it a century ago, when he played chess while dictating letters to different persons. She did not notice this remark, but proceeded to extol a novel she wrote some years since, entitled "Alfred the Great." She considers it one of her best productions, and gave it to a physician who attended her during a dangerous illness and declined being paid for his services. She said she thought she could not compliment him more, than by making him a present of her work; that he seemed delighted with it, and declared he would have it published immediately, but that much to her regret he had not kept his promise. Alfred is her favorite hero, and she expressed her wonder that he is not often made the subject of a romance. She informed us that she always retires to bed at half past ten o'clock and rises at seven, and is careful to eat very moderately. Her faculties {489} continue perfect, and she knows fifty-two trades; such as sewing, knitting, spinning, embroidering, making baskets, weaving purses, &c. &c. We saw on the chimney-piece a snuff box that Mademoiselle d'Orleans, her _ci-devant_ pupil, had sent to her. On the lid she had painted a harp entwined with a garland of flowers, and below it this sentence was written: "C'est votre ouvrage." Having sat with her two hours we took leave, and had quitted the room, when she called us back to show us with what ease she could rise from her chair without resting her hands on the arms of it to aid herself, as old people are commonly obliged to do. She has invited us to call on her whenever we can, and was so polite as to say she felt quite flattered by our visit.

On reaching home we found Mr. Danville and Leonora much diverted at the exploit of a monkey that had climbed in at the window, and ere they perceived it, twitched from Leonora's hand a bunch of raisins she was eating. It was the property of a little Savoyard, who had taught it a variety of tricks in order to gain a few sous by their exhibition. The Boulevard abounds with these little wanderers, and their marmosets.

This evening we are going to a fête at the Tivoli Garden; the _New_ Tivoli as it is called; the old one (which I am told was far handsomer) has been converted into ground for building. We have seen the Ballet of Mars and Venus, at the grand opera; nothing can be more beautiful and splendid than it is! Leaving it for your imagination to fancy, I subscribe myself your affectionate

LEONTINE.

* * * * *

LETTER THIRTEENTH.

Fête at Tivoli--The Catacombs--Cemetery of Montmartre--Abattoirs--Lady Morgan--Mrs. Opie--A Quaker Meeting.

Paris, ----.

_Dear Jane:_

We were much entertained at Tivoli. The garden was brightly illuminated, and all sorts of amusements went on; and what a variety of these the French have, and with what zest they partake of them! We did our part very well too. We swung, we rode on wooden horses, we sailed in ships, looked at a cosmorama, witnessed a phantasmagoria, rope dancing and fire works, a play performed by puppets, and some metamorphoses of little paste board figures, that were quite wonderful; for instance:--a tiny lion was changed, as if by magic, into a cupid driving a car drawn by swans, a young lady into a basket of flowers, a butterfly into a beau, &c. &c. These transfigurations, I think, must be produced in the following manner: Two different objects are painted on a bit of pasteboard, one on the back and the other on the front of it; the pasteboard is then folded into the shape of one of them, and threads, too fine to be visible at a moderate distance, attached to it; after exhibiting the first figure a sufficient time, the threads are pulled and the pasteboard adroitly turned round and thrown open, thus displaying the second figure, to the form of which its edges are trimmed. As no person was visible, the threads were undoubtedly passed through the scenes of the miniature stage into the hand of the skilful operator,--for skilful he or she was who conducted the business. When tired of strolling we entered a fine café, situated in the centre of the garden, and refreshed ourselves with ice creams; afterwards, attracted by the sound of music, we repaired to an open space, where an orchestra was erected and a band of musicians were playing quadrilles for a party of beaux and belles, who danced away merrily, not on the _turf_ but in the sand; they were, however, so inspired by the tones of violins and clarionets, that they moved along as if on a board floor.

You will wonder, perhaps, how we sailed in ships without the aid of wind or tide! I will tell you. Two poles, with a little ship suspended by a rope from each end, were placed crosswise on a pivot, and turned as rapidly as you chose, carrying you round and round in the air, with an undulating motion, not dissimilar to that of a vessel at sea, and so unpleasant to our feelings that we soon _disembarked_. This diversion is termed "les Espagnolettes." The wooden horses are arranged in like manner, except that they are firmly fixed on the ends of the poles, and consequently, in riding on them you do not experience the sickening, waving motion. The machine for swinging, is denominated a "Balancoir." This also consists of a couple of beams placed athwart each other, with chairs attached to their ends, which are thrown alternately up and down. Several parties, as they glided round on the wooden horses, amused themselves by trying to pass a stick through a large ring which was held towards them by a woman mounted on a bench. Whenever a ring was caught and borne off, it was instantly replaced by another, until one of the competitors had obtained _five_ and thus won the game. I must now change my theme and inform you of our disappointment as respects seeing the catacombs. They are closed at present by order of the government--I _believe_ on account of the danger there is in visiting them. We have been to the "cemetery of Montmartre," or "Field of Repose," as it is likewise styled. It is of much older date than "Pére la Chaise," but not so extensive, nor does it contain such handsome monuments; there are however some shady, melancholy dells and moss covered tombs, that render it peculiarly interesting. Vestris the celebrated dancer and Very the chief of Restaurateurs, are buried there. From the cemetery we proceeded to the "Abattoir," or "Slaughter-house of Montmartre;" an establishment of this kind is erected in every department of the city. Within them the butchers exercise their sanguinary functions, and the expense of them is defrayed by taxes on the animals that are killed. They are kept in the neatest order and composed of numerous buildings, each of which is appropriated to a particular branch of the business. In one the poor animals are knocked in the head; and there is a receptacle for the blood, which trickles into it through furrows made in the floor: in a second the carcase is skinned: in a third quartered: in a fourth the entrails are separated and cleansed: in a fifth the fat is boiled in an immense kettle. There are besides spacious tables, where the unconscious victims are sheltered and amply supplied with food and straw, while awaiting their fate. It made me quite sad to behold them eating and reposing so calmly, and then to think of their bloody destiny! The "Abattoirs" are liberally watered and often washed, and therefore no disagreeable odour is perceptible about them. I wish our butchers would follow the example of their French brethren as regards these places!

We had the gratification of meeting with Lady Morgan last night at Madame B----'s. Mamma had a {490} great deal of conversation with her and found her extremely affable and agreeable. You know we were told she was ugly--we do not think her so, but she certainly dresses too girlishly, rouges too highly and seems too desirous of admiration. This cannot be said of Mrs. Opie, to whom we were also introduced. She was as plain in her attire as a dark grey silk gown and a white muslin kerchief and cap could make her. In her manners she is unaffected, in her conversation animated and intelligent. Her countenance is open and expressive of her lively mind. The moment we beheld her we recognized her as a lady we had seen at a quaker meeting which we attended from motives of curiosity on Sunday. A quaker meeting in Paris! you will exclaim. Even so my dear, for what is there on the face of the earth (that depends not on _soil_ or _climate_) which may not be found in this bustling capital? The meeting was held in a house in the Champs Elysèes, belonging to a quaker family with whom Mr. D. was acquainted, and who gave him a cheerful permission to bring with him whenever he wished it, any friends desirous of going there. We were shewn into a neat parlor, where about twenty persons were sitting in solemn silence, and for nearly an hour not a sound was heard, save the occasional sneezes of an old lady who had a violent cold in her head. At length however the spirit moved a dark eyed gentleman and he gave us a tolerable sermon. I conclude with love from all of us to yourself, aunt M. and Albert, and to our relations and friends in the vicinity of Morven Lodge. I have not always room for affectionate messages, or be assured they would always be inserted.

LEONTINE.

* * * * *

LETTER FOURTEENTH.

Soirée at General Lafayette's--Benjamin Constant--Messrs. Perrier, Laffitte and Ternaux, &c.--"Conservatory of Arts and Trades"--Diorama--Georama--Neorama--"Royal Printing Office"--Manufactory of Plate Glass--Hospital of the Quinze Vingts--Castle of Vincennes--Fountain of the Elephant--Franconi's Circus--The Duchess of Berri's children.

PARIS, ----.

_Dear Jane:_

Another busy week of pleasure and amusement has glided by since you have heard from us, and two evenings of it have been spent at two delightful soirées. The first at Madame de N----'s, the second at the gallant old General Lafayette's, in the rue d'Anjou; where he has a suite of small and neat apartments illuminated for the reception of his expected guests on every Tuesday evening. We made our debut there about 9 o'clock and found them crowded. Among the throng were many celebrated and interesting personages, for the worthy and enlightened of all nations seem ever ready to do homage to the virtuous patriarch of Lagrange. At his soirées the greatest ease prevails--the refreshments are simple and plentiful, and in compliment to the Americans and English, tea is always served, a custom not practised among the French. We again saw Sir Charles and Lady Morgan and Mrs. Opie, with whom by the bye we have exchanged visits. Then there was the orator Benjamin Constant, a pale, thin man, with light blue eyes and snowy hair, looking as if he were far on his passage to the next world. He was environed by a crowd of gentlemen, to whom he was speaking very earnestly with a great deal of gesture. Not far from him we observed other stars of the Chamber of Deputies, and these were Messieurs Casimir Perrier, Laffitte and Ternaux, whose countenances bespeak their noble minds. Monsieur Ternaux has introduced here and carries on the manufacture of cashmere shawls, and they not only equal those of India in tints and texture, but surpass them in the beauty and richness of the borders. To him also is attributed the discovery of the art of stamping patterns in relief on cloth table covers, &c. In the next room, we saw Mr. Cooper, the American novelist, and his lady--the two Miss P----'s, cousins of Lord Byron and Mr. and Mrs. ----. She is the daughter of Gen. Bertrand, and a beautiful creature she is. The lovely countess d'A---- was sitting near her. She is the sister of Madame George Lafayette, and is an intelligent and fascinating woman. She called here yesterday with Madame Lasteyrie and her daughters.

It is now time to speak of some of the curiosities of Paris to which we have recently been devoting our mornings. I believe the "conservatory of arts and trades" stands first on the list. It is also termed the "museum of industry," and is a collection of all sorts of machines and models, patterns and specimens of things that French genius and labor have produced; for the government obliges every Frenchman to deposit here a sample or model of whatever he improves or invents, and to accompany it with an account of its manufacture or construction. Besides several halls exhibiting machines and models, there are others filled with specimens of porcelain, glass, stone ware, lace, silks, ribbons, tapestry, colored and stamped paper, scissors, knives, fans, watches, clocks, lamps and a thousand other articles. One of the halls contains a number of _miniature_ buildings, representing sundry manufactories. They are open in front, and display in different apartments the various processes of each business and the implements required in it, not omitting the most trifling tool. Another hall contains a library of 10,000 volumes, written in almost every language, and treating on subjects connected with the purport of the establishment--and professors of geometry and natural philosophy give lectures there to such pupils as are recommended by the minister of the interior. Would it not be shameful if the French nation did not rapidly progress in the arts and sciences, when the government is so liberal in encouraging them, by affording those persons who possess talents every advantage gratuitously, so that the poor may rise as well as the rich, if blessed with abilities? Among the patterns of tapestry is one concerning which a droll story is related, viz. that Vaucanson, a skilful mechanic, being offended with the inhabitants of Lyons for undervaluing some looms he had invented, tied an ass to one of them and made him execute the piece of embroidery from which this specimen was cut, and which excelled any _they_ had ever done.

We have also visited the Diorama, the Georama and the Neorama, the royal printing office, the manufactory of plate glass and the hospital of the "Quinze Vingts." A diorama you have seen. A georama is a panoramic representation of the earth with its divisions of land and water; the spectator standing in the centre. A neorama is a painting so ingeniously designed and arranged, as to produce the illusion of {491} your being within whatever building it represents. The one we saw is a picture of the interior of St. Peter's at Rome, and Mr. Dorval who has been there says it is an exact copy. The royal printing office is an establishment of great magnitude. There is a vast collection of types and several hundred presses. We were informed that Pope Pius VII visited this office during his sojourn in Paris, and that while he was there the Lord's prayer was printed in no less than 150 languages and presented to him. At the plate glass manufactory we beheld mirrors of wonderful magnitude. The plates are cast at Cherbourg and at St. Gobin, (a castle in the department of Aisne) and sent here to be quick-silvered and polished. Eight hundred workmen are constantly employed in the business. The French are indebted to the great Colbert for this establishment; prior to its foundation plate glass could only be had by sending for it to Venice. Having satisfied our curiosity here, we proceeded to the hospital of the "Quinze Vingts," founded by St. Louis in 1220 for the maintenance of 300 blind--a larger number is now admitted. It was customary in the age of St. Louis to count by twenties, and there being 15 twenties in 300 this institution derived its appellation from having that number of pensioners. We were pleased with the neatness and comfort that reigned, and arrived there just in time to hear a class of the blind sing and play; for those who evince a talent for music are instructed in it. The women were the vocalists and the men performed on various instruments. Even the leader was sightless! They kept time very well and we enjoyed their concert exceedingly, though the distorted faces some made while singing were horrible. They are taught a variety of trades, and not only reading but the art of printing, and we saw a man arrange the types and print several words with both skill and quickness. The types were extremely large and made of wood, and no ink was used in the operation, but the letters pressed on the paper, so as to leave the traces of them perceptible to the slightest touch.

On Wednesday we went to the castle of Vincennes, a gothic fortress, about three miles from the city. It contains the state prisons and an armory. A note to the commandant, from Mr. Warden, the American Ex-Consul and a kind friend of the Danvilles, gained us admission, and we spent two hours in examining the castle within whose gloomy turrets, nobles and monarchs have sighed in captivity. The celebrated Mirabeau was a prisoner there during four years, and there wrote his letters between Gabriel and Sophie. The duke d'Enghien was shot in a moat of this castle--the spot where the execution took place is designated by a willow tree and a black column, bearing this inscription, "Here he fell." In the chapel is a handsome mausoleum enclosing his ashes. Returning from Vincennes we stopped on the _Place de la Bastille_ (once occupied by that terrific building) to view the model of the fountain of the Elephant. It is of plaster, and 72 feet high! A tower on the animal's back is to serve as a reservoir for the water which is to flow from the proboscis, and one of the legs is to contain the stair case leading to the tower. The whole mass is to be of bronze, but it is doubtful if this grand fountain will ever be made; it was one of Napoleon's gigantic designs, which adversity and death prevented his accomplishing. Last night we witnessed the wonder of an Elephant acting a part in a play at the Cirque Olympique, a theatre of the same description as that of Astley's in London. The house was crowded almost to suffocation, and the docile and astonishing creature excited universal admiration by her performance. She is called "Mam'selle Dyjeck," is a native of the island of Ceylon, and was purchased from some Indian jugglers by Monsieur Huguet her present owner. She is so attached to him that she shews evident distress if he is long absent from her, and extreme delight when he returns. If he be fatigued or indisposed, it is said that she even undresses him, puts him to bed and watches by him while he rests. Travellers I know are expected to exaggerate, but I assure you I am not availing myself of the privilege in the present instance. The play was entitled "l'Elephant du roi de Siam," and was written expressly to exhibit the address and sagacity of M'lle Dyjeck, who really acted throughout as if she were a human being. At the close of the performance the audience vociferated for her re-appearance, and after a few moments elapsed the curtain was raised and the _royal lady_ came forth proudly tossing her trunk. She advanced to the edge of the stage and made three courtesies, retreating all the while, and looking round on the spectators as she rose, until she had sufficiently receded, she walked off amidst a roar of applause. It was quite an inspiring scene. The Duchess of Berri and her suite were present.

Apropos--Madame F. lately gave us a most interesting account of her Highness' children, the little Duke of Bordeaux and M'lle Louise. She says they are both remarkably amiable and _le petit Duc_ holds a levee daily, is dressed _en militaire_ and assumes all the airs of a grown gentleman. He is so proud of his sword, that the severest penalty his tutor can inflict, when he misbehaves, is to deprive him of it. He is a pretty boy--we have often met him taking an airing in his coach and four, surrounded by gens d'armes, for the Bourbons are so unpopular that for fear of his sharing the fate of his father, he is always strongly guarded whenever he appears in public. He pays dearly for his lineage, poor little fellow! and I never see him without thinking sorrowfully of the probability of his perishing by the ruthless hand of an assassin. But mercy! what a packet. Have patience dearest! with your

LEONTINE.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

LINES

In recollection of Thomas H. White, who died at Richmond, Va. October 7, 1832, aged 19 years.

Was it a dream? It has pass'd away
As vanish dreams at the rising day,--
That graceful form, from the Saco's side,
That loved the leap of its dashing tide,
And watched full long, in the mild Moon's ray,
The rainbow tints of the rising spray.

Fair was that form; and the feature's glow,
True to the pulse of the Heart's warm flow,
Heighten'd at thought of those friends afar,
Who the aspect watched of his rising star;
With fervent prayer that that star might shed
Benignant influence upon his head.

With heart as joyous, and foot as light
As the wild young roe, he scaled the height-- {492}
The crystal sought in its mountain-bed,
And the fragrant wild flowers gathered;
Nature he loved in her freakish mood--
And sought her, deep in her solitude.

* * * * *

He is not now where the rapids play,
Or moonlight tinctures the rising spray;
Nor like the roe on the craggy height,
With heart as gay, and a foot as light;--
Did he hear the howl of the frost-god nigh,
And fly like the Birds to his native sky?

His native sky?--Ah! it brightly glows--
It cheers the bird and it scents the rose;
It wakes all nature to songs of joy--
_But it smiles all vainly on thee, sweet Boy!_
They laid, who loved thee, all lone and deep,
On the James' green shore, in thy last, long sleep!

Yes! 'twas a dream of Life's dreamy day!
Beautiful, fleeting, and vain as they!
Dreams of the heart, the mind, the eye,
Belov'd, how dearly!--how soon to fly!
They fade, they vanish, e'er dawns the morrow,
And the heart is left to its night of sorrow.

ELIZA.

_Saco, Maine_.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

TO SPRING.[1]

Not since the world's first blushing Spring
Hath warmer, truer offering
Than mine, by minstrel, muse, or maid,
Been on thy rose-wreathed altar laid.

May-flower, the first in Flora's band,
I've snatch'd from thy half-open'd hand,
And help'd the little Daisy shake
From her bright head the light snow-flake;

I've watch'd thee while thy crayon spread
The first tint on the Violet's head,
And wrapt with pleasure, scan'd the grace
Thy light touch threw o'er Nature's face--

But more I love thee for thy promise bright,
That Man shall spring, revived from Death's cold, wintry night.

ELIZA.

_Saco, Maine._

[Footnote 1: On the warm banks of the James, this Apostrophe to Spring may probably appear altogether too late for the season, but on the banks of the Saco, where a good fire is still necessary to comfort, and the May-flower, the most daring of our wild flowers, is just putting forth its blossom in token of _approaching_ Spring, it is quite early enough.]

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

SPRING.