1841.] Professor Anthon's Dictionary-Flowers.-Intercepted Correspondence. PROFESSOR ANTHON AND HIS DICTIONARY. There are at this time two Classical Dictionaries in the market. The one by the learned and accomplished scholar whose name heads this notice, we have, already, in terms of no measured approbation, commended to the attention of our readers. The other is nothing more than our familiar old acquaintance of school-boy days-the obscene Lempriere, revamped. All of his vulgarity, many of his mistakes, and a goodly crop of new errors, are engrafted upon this patched-up concern; and an attempt has been made to bolster it up, by decrying the other-palmam ferat qui meruit. The Longinus of this undertaking was evidently crammed for the task; and as usual with such writers, he fails properly to digest the mass of crudities with which he had overloaded his disordered mind. Of course his blundering translations, anachronisms and gross errors, do but recoil upon him and his cause. Dr. Anthon is one of the most profound classical scholars of this or any other country;-the merits of his work have been acknowledged on both sides of the Atlantic; and we here repeat all the commendations which we have before passed upon his Dictionary. FLOWERS AND THEIR ASSOCIATIONS. When all around is bloom? A thought, sent forth by every flower, Each tuft of roses, white and red, Of those who 'midst their fragrance bled, The full, the half-blown flower, the bud, With rue and pansies,-grief and thought,- Sweet shade, with loveliest fancies fraught! With such she wreaths the bough, nor heeds The laurel!-many a warrior bold, And many an athlete strong, They all have magic, if but we Lend fancy to their power; The rudest rock they hide, may be Changed to some Indian bower, Where voiceless, in the vina's sound, Warm hearts through chaplets meet, And harshest thoughts can scarely wound, When told in words so sweet! Yes! though upon the tombless grave They spring among the sod! Off from our souls the gloom they wave, Which broods o'er worm and clod; And say, that, like the dust beneath, Our own, in Summer hours, Will rise from the dark earth, and breathe The soft, bright air in flowers! Baltimore, Ma. 803 impression formed by reading Mr. Jefferson's short, At first, was disappointed. Under an but graphic sketch, I had expected to be overwhelmed with the magnificence and grandeur of the scenery. But such disappointment was of no long continuance. Ascending an elevation, where the eye could, in some measure, comprehend the vastness of the place, the striking and sublime points appeared to come out, one by one, from the landscape, and stand up, as if challenging admiration. It is easy to imagine a process by which the rivers have, in all probability, worn their present channel. From the far North-West came the Potomac; from the South, the Shenandoah, ranging along the foot of the Blue Ridge as if impatient of its restraint, until meeting at this point, like strongarmed giants, they grappled with the mountainburst it asunder, and marched on together to the ocean. But theorizing is not difficult here. It may also be supposed with much plausibility, that the waters of these and other rivers combined, formed originally a lake of no mean magnitude, of which the Ridge and Alleghanies were the Eastern and Western shores;-that, as this lake was filled up by the constant tribute of numerous streams, it overflowed at different places along the line of the Ridge in beautiful cascades, and ran down to the Atlantic. A main outlet of such a lake may have been at this point, and, in the long lapse of ages, may have worn away the rock to its present condition. This idea is supported by traces of high water on the Western side of the mountain, and by indications along the bed of the James and other rivers. A similar theory may be true in regard to the Mohawk and Hudson rivers, which have cut for themselves channels through the rocky sides of the Catskills. [ to loneliness, having, in all the multitude, met no But this is too discursive. familiar countenance; but the stars now look down On both sides of the stream, rocks lay in the upon him with the face of a friend. He traces out utmost confusion, as if thrown there by the waters the constellations, which, in his boyhood, he conon their first escape through the mountain. Among sidered but so many silver brilliants to light up the them the road winds along, at times under the pre-midnights of his native town; now, they serve as cipice, which hovers over the unweary traveller, a clue to a thousand pleasing recollections, and it almost suspended in mid air. Through the chasm, adds much to his enjoyment to fancy that, from the there opens a vista with an amphitheatre of distant window of his own distant home, eyes are watchhills, whose mellow shades call up images of quiet ing the same stars, and engaged in similar contemand repose strikingly in contrast with this hurly- plations. In this mood, having entirely forgotten burly of nature. For some distance on the Mary- the "stars and stripes," and his patriotism, he land side, the cottages of workmen in the United seeks his pillow. Thus, with some little variety, States' Armory are scattered along in the clefts of pass away his days in Washington. the rocks; while a few, apparently smitten with the mania for getting up in the world,' have even perched on the top. On the Virginia side the case But one of the chief attractions near is altogether different. The rocks are nearly per- the District of Columbia, is the tomb of Washingpendicular; and on the summit, trees, firmly rooted, ton, at Mount Vernon. At an early hour in the throw out their arms, as if to defy the hurricane: morning, we obtained a carriage, and under the and above the whole, birds are seen constantly sailing, like specks, against the clear blue of the firmament. While looking on this scenery, the question must rise in the mind of every true American,-why is it not honored by the song of some native bard? Why cannot the muse be tempted to make her dwelling among our groves and mountains, as well as those across the brine? Mount Vernon, Oct. guidance of a jolly ebon-faced driver, left Alexandria. The road thither was any thing but good. The only attractive feature of the way, was a fine prospect, affording at one view the cities of Alexandria, Washington, and Georgetown, lying at intervals of several miles, along the shore of the Potomac. An hour or more of slow and toilsome riding, brought in sight the Washington familyseat. We entered the grounds through a gateway, which appeared to have been once honored by porWashington, D. C., May. ters; but the lodges at each side were at this time, Have spent a few days of wearisome curiosity sadly out of repair, and untenanted. A short ride in this city of magnificent distances.' For the through a wild, untrimmed, and almost pathless first day, all is interest and excitement to the inex- wood, brought in full view the old mansion-house. perienced traveller. Every dignified figure that As we ascended the gentle eminence on which the he meets, ranks in his untutored judgment as the dwelling stands, surrounded by the humble but neat Hon. member from, or -; and yonder per- cottages of the family servants, we were struck sonage, with an abstracted, thoughtful mien, must with the republican simplicity of the edifice, and have breathed air near the throne! Again, when the quiet loveliness of the whole spot. The buildhe stands on the elevated terrace surrounding the ing is two stories high, and the roof is surmounted capitol, and looks up to the marble pillars, the by an unpretending cupola, over which a rusty exquisite specimens of sculpture, the tasteful archi-weathercock points obstinately to the North-East. tecture, the towering dome, and the national flag The piazza, and light balustrade surrounding the streaming over either House; and when he turns roof, give an air of taste to the house, though there his eyes to the city stretching below him, calling is nothing imposing or magnificent about it. The up the image of him whose name it bears, he is strongly tempted to effervesce in a speech; in which stars and stripes," the "ship of state," and the "soaring wings of the American eagle" would figure largely; but strange faces are around him, and he chokes his eloquence. 66 whole seems to have been designed to promote substantial comfort, rather than to gratify any architectural taste, or family pride in its occupant. In front, stretched a beautiful lawn, shaded by trees, some of which, as the gardener informed us, were planted by "the Gin'ral's own hands, his-self.” Passing thence down a narrow path, we came to an open space, on the bank of the river, which Evening comes on apace. He has listened, perhaps, with breathless interest to the clarion voice of Clay, the deep, distinct enunciation of Web-contained the tomb of the Hero. ster, the hurried, burning words of Calhoun, un- As you are probably well aware, the remains of til, worn out by excitement and fatigue, he hastens Washington have been recently transferred to a new to his lodgings to find repose. Before he retires vault. The old one, being originally but poorly for the night, however, he sits down at his opened constructed, had gone fast to decay, and common window to cool his brow. He may have expe- prudence directed that a new one should be prerienced during the day, a sensation somewhat akin pared. This, however, is extremely simple in its construction. A small enclosure of brick, guarded at the entrance by an iron gate, is all that distinguishes the spot from common earth. Within the enclosure, at the right, is a beautiful sarcophagus, presented to the family by a marble-cutter of Philadelphia. The only inscription upon it is, "Washington." At the left is a corresponding monument to Mrs. Washington, inscribed, "Martha, consort of Washington." As we leaned against an old cedar tree near the tomb, the feelings which rushed upon us in a moment, may perhaps be imagined,-they cannot be described. The day was not a pleasant one, but occasionally the clouds broke away, and the sun shone full upon the trees and silent grave. How appropriate, in every respect, seemed the place! The neighboring grove was bending with the breeze, and the moss-grown patriarch under which we stood, waved and bowed its branches, as if in mute homage to the great sleeper. The spot was entirely shut out from intrusion; and the only sound that could be heard, was that of the wind in the trees, and the rippling of the Potomac on its pebbled shore. Who can tell but that here, in his lifetime, Washington often retired to spread out the woes of his afflicted country before the God of battles, that here, where he had enjoyed intercourse with Heaven, he chose to lay his ashes? In the Autumn of 183-, an express arrived at one of our military stations on the western frontier, bringing intelligence that a marauding party of Otoes, one of those wild and untameable tribes of the prairies, had made an inroad upon the settlements, and that blood had been shed in repelling their lawless intrusion. Such alarms and requisitions for our interference had been frequent, and we considered it but as a piece of ordinary duty, when two squadrons of horse left the cantonment the next morning, and took up their line of march for the regions of the Upper Missouri. The object of the movement was to search for the refractory tribe; exact security for future good conduct, and, if necessary, inflict chastisement for past misdemeanors. A small party of Ioways also joined us, going as they said for the same wholesome purpose, though I am inclined to believe, they had rather an eye to scalps, than to pacific promises. But it would be a vain attempt to mention all the emotions called up by the spot. Like all other travellers, we gathered a few evergreens, and returned to the mansion. For reasons which it is unnecessary to specify, we did not go through the apartments of the house, but, after a stroll For ten days our course lay through that singuthrough the garden, remained a short time on the larly beautiful country, which stretches along on the front piazza to take a final view of the landscape. north of the great " Mad River," presenting to the As we stood there, we thought almost involuntarily, eye of the lover of nature at every step, new and that probably the great deliverer had often, from varying landscapes of blended prairie and forest, of the same spot, cast his eyes along the winding hill and dale, which owe their forcible lights and river, to the capitol, and thence, in imagination, shades, to a sky that is almost ever bright. As like the hoary-headed Moses from Pisgah, looked we proceeded north, the patches of forest diminabroad upon the wide domain which was to be the ished, and as we ascended the gradual slope of one inheritance of long-coming generations. We at of those dividing ridges, which separate the great length turned away from Mount Vernon with reluc-waters of the west, our half-breed guide in adtance, and as we saw for the last time, the humble edifice, the cluster of neat cottages, and the trees which shaded the tomb, the words of Shakspeare came to our lips vance, swept his arm around the horizon, and announced, "there runs the Big Platte." The ground gradually inclined, and as far down as we could see over the almost treeless landscape, His life was noble, and the element, we traced the line of the river. I observed that the So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up men continued their march in silence; and as they And say to all the world, this was a MAN!' approached the great stream of which they had heard This seems, Galiton, an appropriate place to so much, their curiosity was tempered with awe; close our present interviews. Over the grave of for, setting aside the vaporing tales of vagabond him, who could 'look up without envy, and down hunters, they had before their minds the recollecwithout dizziness,' let us learn our mutual and part-tion of a disaster, which a few months before had ing lesson. As these letters were mostly sketched befallen a party of soldiers in attempting to cross in Virginia, you will attribute any gratification you it, while its waters were high. The officer in may have derived from their perusal, to the genial spirit alone, that haunts her valleys and blue mountains: to whom let us bid adieu. charge of this party, deceived by the appearance of the river, and his orders admitting of no delay, selected three men, plunged into the stream him self and ordered them to follow. On reaching the our evening meal despatched, when an order was opposite bank, he found himself alone. The un- communicated, to "turn out and bury the dead." der-currents and whirlpools had swept the men A grave had been prepared upon a small acclivity from their horses, and the quicksands had swallow- a few hundred yards from the camp, and to this ed them up. It was near noon, when we halted on point the procession moved. the bank of the river; a call was made for a volunteer to attempt the ford. The men looked at the rushing and turbulent waters, and thought of their dead comrades; some minutes had elapsed, when a fine young fellow upon a tall horse, rode forward, threw down his weightier equipage, and declared his readiness to test it. The distance from bank to bank, was more than a mile, and all eyes were upon him, as he made his tedious and difficult passage. Sometimes he would plunge into a quicksand and almost disappear; sometimes he would appear as if detached from his horse, and swimming; until at length he reached shoal water, when he shouted back that it was safe, and commenced his return. I have seen the beauties of nature in the vast regions of the boundless west, under all circumstances; but I do not know that landscape, and season, and scene, were ever combined before, to produce such sensations of solemn melancholy, as did everything connected with this simple burial of humble men, upon the solitary desert. The dark pall of twilight was just beginning to throw into shade the hollows and ravines; the glow left by the setting sun, was soft and bright, and rich, only as the atmosphere of those far regions can make it; the chilly night wind swept stealthily along, with its moaning, felt by the spirit, not heard; and the heads of the tall grass bowed down, as the pageant passed by. We stood by the grave; the long drawn wailing of the solitary key-bugle ceased, and gave place to silence, broken only by the shriek of the night hawk, or the petulant howl of some startled wolf. In close vicinity to our detachments, stood the band of loways, drawn from their camp by fear of their enemies. A little in advance, their picturesque and martial outThere, on the white sands, lay two skeletons, lines relumed against the bright horison, stood the locked in each other's arms; the fishes of the Pawnee Loups. The dead were lowered to their Platte had nibbled the flesh from their bones, and resting place, the dull sound of dust committed to the rushing waters had bleached them white, but dust, rose up, and while all stood uncovered, the the wolf had not broken them in pieces, and the chaplain, in a clear and impressive voice, read hand of the savage had not disarranged them. from the service, the Burial of the Dead. I watchThey lay with their sword-belts buckled around ed the effect of this seeming incantation upon the their skeleton waists, and their sabres and carbines group of savages before me. Every feature, every were beside them. A circular path around the lineament, from the snake-like glittering eye, to spot where they rested, showed that the red man the overstrained muscle, betokened the most abhad turned aside; he would not touch their arms, stracted attention; and when the voice of the for the hand of the Great Spirit had placed them preacher ceased, they looked at each other quietly, there! The confusion of the passage soon gave and with an air of relaxation, forgot for a moway to the usual order of a march, and having collected the remains and placed them with the baggage, we resumed our course. We had left the Platte a few miles in our rear, and it was near sunset, when we halted to encamp on the banks of a little stream. There we fonnd a small party of Pawnee Loups-fierce looking fellows from the upper Platte, who, situated too far to make marauding upon the frontiers profitable, looked upon our advent with impudent indifference, and stretched their lodges in close vicinity to our camp. They were the hereditary enemies of the Ioways, and I saw many a wistful eye resting upon the fanciful scalp-locks of the band that was with us. The Ioway chief, with a significant grunt, and a gesticulation expressive of his feelings with regard to all Pawnees, solicited permission to lodge within our line of sentinels, which being granted, he marked out his bivouac, as near the sleeping place of the commanding officer as possible. Our horses had been groomed and picketed for the night, and Our baggage was placed upon India-rubber rafts, and the men crossed by fording; when the head of the column reached the opposite shore, the first object that met their eyes, were the bones of the men, the thought of whose unhappy fate was then uppermost perhaps in the minds of all. ment that their enemies the Ioways were near. They had seen our young braves stand humbly, while the medicine-man of the pale faces, had held a talk with the Great Spirit. The three volleys, the last tribute of the soldier to his dead comrade, boomed on the heavy night air; the troops wheeled into column, and the scene was over. The next night there were sounds of merriment in our camp. So goes the world. TO ONE IN HEAVEN. BY LEWIS J. CIST. Sweet Sister! 'tis the hush of night! The full moon shineth radiantly; That ever best was loved by thee; Go back to thee, sweet Sister mine! D. R. G. N. For as that Star, serenely bright, And radiant as yon silvery moon, I sit me down, and call to mind Thy quiet walk, thy gentle ways, And light caress, my cares have flown; Light lingers yet when day is gone, And I have many a loved one left, Although not now the favorite one: Will, in it's joy ev'n, sorrow see— NOTICES the Anglo Saxons," in two royal octavo volumes; the "Works of Lord Bolingbroke," in four; Napier's "History of the Peninsula War," in four; and Thiers' "History of the French Revolution," in four; all of the same description; the "Complete Works of Lord Bacon," in three volumes of the largest octavo size; the Critical Works of Macauley, in three volumes; and a great number of other works which we have not space to mention particularly. If, ten years ago, any publisher had expressed an intention to do in three summers what they have accomplished in one, he would have been deemed insane. But the most gratifying fact is, that the public taste has so improved, that all these enterprises have been profitable; the people read good books; if a gentleman has not a choice library, his house is not thought to be well furnished. FACTS IN MESMERISM, with reasons for a dispassionate in- With Animal magnetism, like Eastern sorcery, is the evidence of an occult power, or mysterious influence, which we do not comprehend, and in which, therefore, we are loth to believe. Most people make up their minds before hand, not to believe hear-say evidence in either case. them, seeing is believing.' And even with those who do see, the fear of the charge of being over-credulous-and the dread of the consequent ridicule, prevent the greater, much the greater part, from bearing public testimony of what they have seen and heard. We know from the Bible, that sorcery did prevail in the East, even to the performance of miracles: "And Aaron cast down his rod before Pharoah, and be Of New Works, and Literary Intelligence. In nothing has there been so decided an improvement in this country, within the last few years, as in the business of publishing, excepting only the literary taste of the people, which has kept pace with the enterprise of the book-fore his servants, and it became a serpent. sellers, and guarded them from losses on account of their reforma. Paper-making, engraving, type-founding, printing and binding, are now carried on in America with nearly as much perfection as in England; and were books sold here for as high prices as in that country, we should be able safely to defy competition in all these arts. Messrs. Harpers, of New-York, in the number and cheapness of their publications, surpass any other house; but their editions are generally of the kind which, to use the language of Johnson, one may carry in the hand" and "hold to the fire ;" "Then Pharoah also called the wise men and the sorcerers: now the magicians of Egypt, they also did in like manner with their enchantments; * "For they cast down every man his rod, and they became serpents; but Aaron's rod swallowed up their rods." "And he lifted up the rod and smote the waters that were in the river, in the the sight of Pharoah, and in the sight of his servants; and all the waters that were in the river were turned to blood." "And the magicians of Egypt did so with their enchantments."-Gen., chap. mi., v. 10, et seq. "And Aaron stretched out his hand over the waters of Egypt. "And the magicians did so with their enchantments, and brought up frogs upon the land of Egypt." 'For Aaron stretched out his hand with his rod, and smote the dust of the earth, and it became lice in man and beast;" * they have given to the public but few specimens of beauti-Egypt; and the frogs came up, and covered the land of ful typography. The Boston publishers took the lead in presenting good books in a good style. Their editions of the works of Washington, Franklin, Prescott, Bancroft, Bowditch, Spenser, Shakspeare, Milton, Burke, and others, printed within the last ten years, would add to the good reputation of the most famous publishers of London and Paris. Next to Hillard, Gray & Co., and Little and Brown, of Boston, E. L. Carey, and A. Hart, of Philadelphia, are entitled to praise for the value of their publications and the excellence of their Editions. No other house in this coun "And the magicians did so with their enchantments to bring forth lice, but they could not.”—Ib. viii., v. 6, et seq. For further evidence of sorcery, see the Old Testament passim; and the case of Elymas, besides frequent allusions to the art, in the New. That the magician of the East practises his art of sorcery to this day, we have the evidence of a few; for, but few modern travellers have possessed the moral courage to publish what they have seen on this subject. For some interesting details on it however, see June No. of the London Quarterly Review for 1837. try ever issued, in one year, so many works of the first class, as are embraced in their list for the last six months; and few men have in any way done more for the cause of good letters, than they by placing within the reach of the most humble, the works of the best authors. We do not We remember to have heard Parson Wolfe-the Jewish pretend to recollect a moiety of the publications since the convert and missionary-relate before a large assembly an commencement of the present year, but the following will act of sorcery, of which he was witness; remarking, "I'll justify our opinion: They have issued Turner's "Hitory of ' tell what I saw-without expressing any belief or disbelief |