For them, and by them, all is gay,
And fresh and beautiful as they:
The images their minds receive,

Their minds assimilate,

To outward forms imparting thus

The glory of their state.

Could aught be painted otherwise

Than fair, seen through her star-bright eyes! He too, because she fills his sight,

Each object falsely sees;

The pleasure that he has in her,

Makes all things seem to please.
And this is love;-and it is life
They lead, that Indian and his wife.

A PICTURE-SONG.

How may this little tablet feigu the features of a face,

Which o'er-informs with loveliness its proper share of space;

Or human hands on ivory enable us to see

The charms that all must wonder at, thou work of gods, in thee!

But yet, methinks, that sunny smile familiar stories tells,

And I should know those placid eyes, two shaded crystal wells;

Nor can my soul the limner's art attesting with a sigh,

Forget the blood that decked thy cheek, as rosy clouds the sky.

They could not semble what thou art, more excellent than fair,

As soft as sleep or pity is, and pure as mountain air;

But here are common, earthly hues, to such an aspect wrought,

That none, save thine, can seem so like the beautiful of thought.

The song I sing, thy likeness like, is painful mimicry Of something better, which is now a memory to me, Who have upon life's frozen sen arrived the icy spot, Where men's magnetic feelings show their guiding task forgot.

The sportive hopes, that used to chase their shifting shadows on,

Like children playing in the sun, are gone—for ever gone;

And on a careless, sullen peace, my double-fronted mind,

Like Janus when his gates were shut, looks forward and behind.

Apollo placed his harp, of old, awhile upon a stone, Which has resounded since, when struck, a breaking harp-string's tone;

And thus my heart, though wholly now from early softness free,

If touched, will yield the music yet, it first received of thee.

SONG.

I need not name thy thrilling name,

Though now I drink to thee, my dear,
Since all sounds shape that magic word,
That fall upon my ear,-Mary;
And silence, with a wakeful voice,
Speaks it in accents loudly free,
As darkness hath a light that shows
Thy gentle face to me,-Mary.

I pledge thee in the grape's pure soul,
With scarce one hope, and many fears,
Mixed, were I of a melting mood,
With many bitter tears,-Mary-

A form so fair, that, like the air, 'tis less of earth than heaven.

Her every tone is music's own, like those of morning birds,

And something more than melody dwells ever in her words;

The coinage of her heart are they, and from her lips each flows

As one may see the burthened bee forth issue from the rose.

Affections are as thoughts to her, the measures of her hours;

Her feelings have the fragrancy, the freshness of young flowers;

And lovely passions, changing oft, so fill her, she appears

The image of themselves by turns,-the idol of past years.

Of her bright face one glance will trace a picture on the brain,

And of her voice in echoing hearts a sound must long remain ;

But memory such as mine of her so very much endears,

When death is nigh my latest sigh will not be life's but hers

I filled this cup to one made up of loveliness alone, A woman, of her gentle sex, the seeming paragonHer health! and would on earth there stood some more of such a frame,

That life might be all poetry, and weariness a

name.

BELA BATES EDWARDS.

THE successor, and previously the associate of Moses Stuart in his professorship at Andover, was the Rev. Bela B. Edwards, also prominently connected with the theological and educational literature of the country. He was born at Southampton, Massachusetts, July 4, 1802. His family was one of the oldest in the country, boasting “a long line of godly progenitors," originally springing from a Welsh stock, which contained among its descendants the two Jonathan Edwardses and President Dwight.* Mr. Edwards became a graduate of Amherst in 1824, and was subsequently for two years, from 1826 to 1828, a tutor in that college. He had previously, in 1825, entered the Andover Theological Seminary, where he continued his studies and was licensed as a preacher in 1830. Though with many fine qualities in the pulpit, which his biographer, Professor Parks, has fondly traced, he lacked the ordinary essentials of voice and manner for that vocation. The main energies of his life were to be devoted to the cause of instruction through the press and the professor's chair.

While tutor at Amherst he conducted in part a

At least Mr. Edwards was disposed to maintain this view of his genealogy. Memoir by Edwards A. Park, p. 9.

weekly journal, the New England Inquirer, and was afterwards occasionally employed in superintending the Boston Recorder.

As Assistant Secretary of the American Education Society, he conducted, from 1828 to 1842, the valuable statistical and historical American Quarterly Register, a herculean work as he worked upon it, a journal of fidelity and laborious research in the biography of the pulpit and the annals of American seats of learning, and generally all the special educational interests of the country.*

In July, 1833, he established the American Quarterly Observer, a journal of the order of the higher reviews; which, after three volumes were published, was united in 1835 with the Biblical Repository, which had been conducted by Professor Robinson. Edwards edited the combined

work known as the American Biblical Repository, until January, 1838.

In 1844 he became engaged in the publication of the Bibliotheca Sacra and Theological Review at Andover, which had been established the previous year at New York by Professor Robinson. He was employed in the care of this work till 1852. In January, 1851, the Biblical Repository was united with the Bibliotheca Sacra. "He was thus, adds Professor Parks, "employed for twenty-three years in superintending our periodical literature; and with the aid of several associates, left thirty-one octavo volumes as the monuments of his enterprise and industry in this onerous department." Dr. Edwards's own contributions to these periodicals were criticisms on the books of the day, the discussion of the science of education, and the cultivation of biblical literature.

Dr. Edwards's Professorship of Hebrew in the Andover Seminary dated from 1837. In 1848, on the retirement of Professor Stuart, he was elected to the chair of Biblical Literature. He had previously, in 1846-47, travelled in Europe, where he made the study of religious institutions, the universities, and other liberal objects, subservient to his professional labors. Professor Parks, with characteristic animation, has given, in his notice of this tour, the following pleasing picture of the inspirations which wait upon the serious American student visiting Europe.*

And when he made the tour of Europe for his health, he did not forget his one idea. He revelled amid the treasures of the Bodleian Library, and the Royal Library at Paris; he sat as a learner at the feet of Montgomery, Wordsworth, Chalmers, Mezzofanti, Neander, the Geological Society of London, and the Oriental Society of Germany, and he bore away from all these scenes new helps for his own comprehensive science. He had translated a Biography of Melancthon, for the sake, in part, of qualifying himself to look upon the towers of Wittemberg; and he could scarcely keep his seat in the

* This periodical was established in 1827 and called the Quarterly Journal of the American Education Society. In 1829 it took the name of the Quarterly Register and Journal of the American Education Society. In 1830 its title became the Quarterly Register of the American Education Society, From 1881 it was called the American Quarterly Register. The Rev. Elias Cornelius was associated with Mr. Edwards in editing the first and second volumes; the Rev. Dr. Cogswell in editing the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth; and the Rev. Samuel H. Riddell in editing the fourteenth volume.—Parks's Memoir, p. 76.

+ Memoir, pp. 160-2,

rail-car, when he approached the city consecrated by the gentle Philip. He measured with his umbrella the cell of Luther at Erfurt, wrote his own name with ink from Luther's inkstand, read some of the notes which the monk had penned in the old Bible, gazed intently on the spot where the intrepid man had preached, and thus by the minutest observations he strove to imbue his mind with the hearty faith of the Reformer. So he might become the more profound and genial as a teacher. This was a ruling passion with him. He gleaned illustrations of divine truth, like Alpine flowers, along the borders of the Mer de Glace, and by the banks of "the troubled Arve," and at the foot of the Jungfrau. He drew pencil sketches of the battle-field at Waterloo, of Niebuhr's monument at Bonn, and of the cemetery where he surmised for a moment that perhaps he had found the burial-place of John Calvin. With the eye of a geologist, he investigated the phenomena of the losopher he analysed the causes of the impression Swiss glaciers, and with the spirit of a mental phimade by the Valley of Chamouni. He wrote tasteful criticisms on the works of Salvator Rosa, Correggio, Titian, Murillo, Vandyke, Canova, Thorwaldsen; he trembled before the Transfiguration by Raphael, and the Last Judgment by Michael Angelo; he was refreshed with the Italian music, “unwinding the very soul of harmony;" he stood entranced before the colonnades and under the dome of St. Peter's, and on the walls of the Colosseum by moonlight, and amid the statues of the Vatican by torchlight, and on the roof of the St. John Lateran at sunset, "where," he says, "I beheld a prospect such as probably earth cannot elsewhere furnish;" he walked the Appian Way, exclaiming: "On this identical road, the old pavements now existing in many places,-on these fields, over these hills, down these rivers and bays, Horace, Virgil, Cicero, Marius, and other distinguished Romans, walked, or wandered, or sailed; here, also, apostles and martyrs once journeyed, or were led to their scene of suffering; over a part of this very road there is no doubt that Paul travelled, when he went bound to Rome." He wrote sketches of all these scenes; and in such a style as proves his intention to regale his own mind with the remembrance of them, to adorn his lectures with descriptions of them, to enrich his commentaries with the images and the suggestions which his chaste fancy had drawn from them. But, alas! all these fragments of thought now sleep, like the broken statues of the Parthenon; and where is the power of genius that can restore the full meaning of these lines, and call back their lost charms! Where is that more than Promethean fire that can their light relume!

The remaining years of Edwards's life were spent in the duties of his Profe-sorship at Andover, in which he taught both Greek and Hebrew. To perfect himself in German he took part in translating a volume of Selections from German Literature; and for a similar object engaged with President Barnes Sears, of the Newton Theological Institution, and Professor Felton of Harvard, in the preparation of the volume on cla-sical studies entitled Essays on Ancient Literature and Art, with the Biography and Correspondence of Eminent Philologists. Professor Edwards's portions of this interesting and stimulating work were the Essays on the "Study of Greek Literature" and of "Classical Antiquity," and the chapter on "the School of Philology in Holland."

Published by Gould, Kendall, & Lincoln. 1848.

In 1844 Professor Edwards was associated with Mr. Samuel H. Taylor in translating the larger Greek Grammar of Dr. Kuhner, and in 1850 revising that work for a second edition.

While undergoing these toils and duties the health of the devoted student was broken and feeble. Symptoms of a pulmonary complaint had early appeared, and the overworked machine was now to yield before the abors imposed upon it. In the fall of 1845 Professor Edwards was compelled to visit Florida for his health, and the following spring, on his return to the north, sailed immediately for Europe, passing a year among the scholars and amidst the classic associations of England and the continent. He bestowed especial attention upon the colleges and libraries. In particular he visited the Red Cross Library in Cripplegate, London, founded by the Rev. Dr. Daniel Williams, an English Presbyterian Minister, who lived from 1644 to 1716. It is a collection of twenty thousand volumes, chiefly theological. The sight of this led Professor Edwards to propose a similar Puritan library to the Congregationalists of New England, which has been since, in part, carried out.*

He returned to Andover in May, 1847, resumed his studies, aud while "yielding inch by inch to his insidious disease, with customary forethought, persisted in accumulating new materials for new commentaries." He prepared expositions of Habakkuk, Job, the Psalms, and the First Epistle to the Corinthians, and was engaged in other labors. In the autumn of 1851 he again visited the South fatally stricken, took up his residence in Athens, Georgia, and died at that place April 20, 1852, in the forty-ninth year of his age.

An honorable tribute to his memory was paid the following year in the publication, in Boston, of two volumes, The Writings of Professor B. B. Edwards, with a Memoir by Edwards A. Park. The selection contains sermons preached at Andover, and a series of essays, addresses, and lectures, not merely of scholastic but of general interest. The Memoir is a minute and thoughtful scholar's biography.

WILLIAM LEGGETT.

WILLIAM LEGGETT, an able and independent political writer, was born in the city of New York in the summer of 1802. He entered the college at Georgetown, in the district of Columbia, where he took a high scholastic rank, but in consequence of his father's failure in business, was withdrawn before the completion of his course, and in 1819 accompanied his father and family in their settlement on the then virgin soil of the Illinois prairies. The experience of western pioneer life thus acquired, was turned to good account in his subsequent literary career.

În 1822 he entered the navy, having obtained the appointment of midshipman. He resigned his commission in 1826, owing, it is said, to the harsh conduct of the commander under whom he sailed, and shortly after published a volume of verses, written at intervals during his naval ca

*Edwards's plan and arguments for the work are published in Professor Parks's Memoir.

reer, entitled Leisure Hours at Sea.* The poems show a ready command of language, a noticeable youthful facility in versification, and an intensity of feeling; beyond this they exhibit no peculiar merit, either of originality or scholarship. A single specimen will indicate their quality.

SONG.

Improbe amor, quid non mortalia pectora cogis!
ENEID, lib. 4.

The tear which thou upbraidest
Thy falsehood taught to flow;
The misery which thou madest
My cheek hath blighted so:
The charms, alas! that won me,
I never can forget,
Although thou hast undone me,
I own I love thee yet.
Go, seek th happier maiden
Who lured thy love from me;
My heart with sorrow laden

Is no more prized by thee:
Repeat the vows you made me,
Say, swear thy love is true;
Thy faithless vows betrayed me,
They may betray her too.

But no! may she ne'er languish

Like me in shame and woe;
Ne'er feel the throbbing anguish

That I am doomed to know!
The eye that once was beaming
A tale of love for thee,
Is now with sorrow streaming,
For thou art false to me.

He also wrote in the Atlantic Souvenir, one of the earliest of the American annuals, a prose tale,

met with such great success, from the novelty of its subject as well as its excellence of execution, that it was speedily followed by other tales of sea as well as land. The whole were subsequently collected under the title of Tales by a Country Schoolmaster.

In 1828 Mr. Leggett married Miss Elmira Leggett of New Rochelle, and in November of the same year commenced The Critic, a weekly literary periodical, in which the reviews, notices of the drama and the arts, the tales, essays, and entire contents, with the exception of a few poems, were from his own pen. Several of the last numbers were not only entirely written, but also set in type, and distributed to subscribers by himself. The editor displayed great ability as well as versatility, but the work was discontinued at the end of six months, for want of support, and united with the Mirror, to which its editor became a regular contributor.

In the summer of 1829 Leggett became, with Wm. C. Bryant, one of the editors of the Evening Post, a position which he retained until December, 1836. It is somewhat singular, that at the outset he stipulated that he should not be called upon for articles on political subjects, on which he had no settled opinions, and for which he had no taste. Before the year was out, however, adds his associate, Mr. Bryant, he found himself a zealous Democrat, and took decided ground in favor of free trade, against the United States Bank, and all connexion by the federal or state governments, with similar institutions, contending that banking, like other business operations, should be untrammelled by government aid or restriction. In 1835, during the riots, in which certain abolition meetings were attacked and dispersed with violence, he defended the right of liberty of speech with the same freedom with which he treated other questions. In October of this year he was attacked by a severe illness, that interrupted his editorial labors for a twelvemonth, which, in consequence of the absence in Europe of his associate, included the entire charge of the paper. Not long after his recovery he left the Post, which, it appeared after investigation on Mr. Bryant's return, had suffered in its finances, on account of his course on the abolition question, and the withdrawal of advertisers in consequence of the removal, by his order, from the notices of "houses for sale and to let," of the small pictorial representation of the article in question, for the sake of uniformity in the typographical appearance of the sheet.**

He then commenced a weekly paper, with the characteristic title of The Plaindealer. It was conducted with his usual ability, in its literary as well as political departments, and was widely circulated, but was involved in the failure of its publisher and discontinued at the expiration of ten months. Mr. Leggett did not afterwards engage in any new literary project, but passed the short remainder of his life, his health being greatly impaired, in retirement at his country place at New Rochelle, on Long Island Sound, which had been his home since his marriage.

In May, 1839, he was appointed by Mr. Van Buren Diplomatic Agent to the Republic of Gua

Bryant's History of the Evening Post.

temala, an event which gave pleasure to his friends, not only as a recognition of his public services, but from their hopes that a residence in a southern climate would be beneficial to his health. It was but a few days after, however, that the public were startled by the announcement of his death, in the midst of his preparations for departure, from a severe attack of bilious colic, on the evening of May 29, 1839.

Mr. Bryant has noted the peculiarities of Leggett in his published account of the Evening Post, and has dedicated a poetical tribute to his memory. In the first he speaks of him as "fond of study, and delighted to trace principles to their remotest consequences, whither he was always willing to follow them. The quality of courage existed in him almost to excess, and he took a sort of pleasure in bearding public opinion. He wrote with surprising fluency and often with eloquence, took broad views of the questions that came before him, and possessed the faculty of rapidly arranging the arguments which occurred to him in clear order, and stating them persuasively."

In the following the same pen expresses the sentiment inspired by these facts:

IN MEMORY OF WILLIAM LEGGETT.

The earth may ring, from shore to shore,
With echoes of a glorious name,
But he, whose loss our tears deplore,

Has left behind him more than fame.
For when the death-frost came to lie

On Leggett's warm and mighty heart,
And quench his bold and friendly eye,
His spirit did not all depart.
The words of fire that from his pen

Were flung upon the fervid page,
Still move, still shake the hearts of men
Amid a cold and coward age.

His love of truth, too warm, too strong
For Hope or Fear to chain or chill,
His hate of tyranny and wrong,

Burn in the breasts he kindled still.

A collection of Leggett's political writings, in two volumes, edited by his friend Mr. Theodore Sedgwick, was published a few months after.

In person Mr. Leggett was of medium height, and compactly built, and possessed great powers of endurance.*.

THE MAIN-TRUCK, OR A LEAP FOR LIFE,
Stand still! How fearful
And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low!

The murmuring surge, That on th' unnumbered idle pebbles chafes. Cannot be heard so high :-I'll look no more, Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong.-Shakespeare, Among the many agreeable associates whom my different cruisings and wanderings have brought me acquainted with, I can scarcely call to mind a more pleasant and companionable one than Tom Scupper. Poor fellow he is dead and gone now-a victim to that code of false honor which has robbed the navy of too many of its choicest officers. Tom and I were messmates during a short and delightful cruise, and. for a good part of the time, we belonged to the same

* Memoir by Theodore Sedgwick in Griswold's Biographical Annual.

We

watch. He was a great hand to spin yarns, which, to do him justice, he sometimes told tolerably well; and many a long mid-watch has his fund of anecdote and sea stories caused to slip pleasantly away. were lying, in the little schooner to which we were attached, in the open roadstead of Laguyra, at single anchor, when Tom told me the story which I am about to relate, as nearly as I can remember, in his own words. A vessel from Baltimore had come into La guyra that day, and by her I had received letters fron home, in one of which there was a piece of intelligence that weighed very heavily on my spirits. For some minutes after our watch commenced, Tom and I walked the deck in silence, which was soon, however, interrupted by my talkative companion, who, perceiving my depression, and wishing to divert my thoughts, began as follows:

The last cruise I made in the Mediterranean was in Old Ironsides, as we used to call our gallant frigate. We had been backing and filling for several months on the western coast of Africa, from the Canaries down to Messurado, in search of slave-traders; and during that time we had some pretty heavy weather. When we reached the Straits, there was a spanking wind blowing from about west-southwest; so we squared away, and without coming to at the Rock, made a straight wake for old Mahon, the general rendezvous and place of refitting for our squadrons in the Mediterranean. Immediately on arriving there, we warped in alongside the Arsenal quay, where we stripped ship to a girtline, broke out the holds, tiers, and store-rooms, and gave her a regular-built overhauling from stem to stern. For a while, everybody was busy, and all seemed bustle and confusion. Orders and replies, in loud and dissimilar voices, the shrill pipings of the different boatswain's mates, each attending to separate duties, and the mingled clatter and noise of various kinds of work, all going on at the same time, gave something of the stir and animation of a dook-yard to the usually quiet arsenal of Mahon. The boatswain and his crew were engaged in fitting a new gang of rigging; the gunner in repairing his breechings and gun-tackles; the fo'castle-men in calking; the topmen in sending down the yards and upper spars; the holders and waisters in whitewashing and holystoning; and even the poor marines were kept busy, like beasts of burden, in carrying breakers of water on their backs. On the quay, near the ship, the smoke of the armorer's forge, which had been hoisted out and sent ashore, ascended in a thick black column through the clear blue sky; from one of the neighboring white stone warehouses the sound of saw and hammer told that the carpenters were at work: near by, a livelier rattling drew attention to the cooper, who in the open air was tightening the water-casks; and not far removed, under a temporary shed, formed of spare studding-sails and tarpaulins, sat the sailmaker and his assistants, repairing the sails, which had been rent by the many storms we had encountered.

Many hands, however, make light work, and in a very few days all was accomplished; the stays and shrouds were set up and new rattled down; the yards crossed, the running-rigging rove, and sails bent; and the old craft, fresh painted and all ataunt-o, looked as fine as a midshipman on liberty. In place of the storm-stumps, which had been stowed away among the booms and other spare spars, amidships, we had sent up cap to'-gallant-masts and royalpoles, with a sheave for sky-sails, and hoist enough for sky-scrapers above them: so you may judge the old frigate looked pretty taunt. There was a Dutch line ship in the harbor; but though we only carried forty-four to her eighty, her main-truck would hard.

ly have reached to our royal-mast head. The sideboys, whose duty it was to lay aloft and furl the skysails, looked no bigger on the yard than a good sized duff for a midshipman's mess, and the maintruck seemed not half as large as the Turk's-head knot on the manropes of the accommodation ladder.

When we had got everything ship-shape and manof-war fashion, we hauled out again, and took our berth about half-way between the Arsenal and Hospital island; and a pleasant view it gave us of the town and harbor of old Mahon, one of the safest and most tranquil places of anchorage in the world. The water of this beautiful inlet-which, though it makes about four miles into the land, is not much over a quarter of a mile in width-is scarcely ever ruffled by a storm; and on the delightful afternoon to which I now refer, it lay as still and motionless as a polished mirror, except when broken into momentary ripples by the paddles of some passing waterman. What little wind we had in the fore part of the day, died away at noon; and, though the first dog-watch was almost out, and the sun was near the horizon, not a breath of air had risen to disturb the deep serenity of the scene. The Dutch liner, which lay not far from us, was so clearly reflected in the glassy surface of the water, that there was not a rope about her from her main-stay to her signalhalliards, which the eye could not distinctly trace in her shadowy and inverted image. The buoy of our best bower floated abreast our larboard bow; and that, too, was so strongly imaged, that its entire bulk seemed to lie above the water, just resting on it, as if upborne on a sea of molten lead; except when now and then, the wringing of a swab, or the dashing of a bucket overboard from the head, broke up the shadow for a moment, and showed the substance but half its former apparent size. A small polacca craft had got underway from Mahon in the course of the forenoon, intending to stand over to Barcelona; but it fell dead calm just before she reached the chops of the harbor; and there she lay as motionless upon the blue surface, as if she were only part of a mimic scene, from the pencil of some accomplished painter. Her broad cotton lateen sails, as they hung drooping from the slanting and taper yards, shone with a glistening whiteness that contrasted beautifully with the dark flood in which they were reflected; and the distant sound of the guitar, which one of the sailors was listlessly playing on her deck, came sweetly over the water, and harmonized well with the quiet appearance of everything around. The whitewashed walls of the lazaretto, on a verdant headland at the mouth of the bay, glittered like silver in the slant rays of the sun; and some of its windows were burnished so brightly by the level beams, that it seemed as if the whole interior of the edifice were in flames. On the opposite side, the romantic and picturesque ruins of fort St. Philip, faintly seen, acquired double beauty from being tipped with the declining light; and the clusters of ancient looking windmills, which dot the green eminences along the bank, added, by the motionless state of their wings, to the effect of the unbroken tranquillity of the scene.

Even on board our vessel, a degree of stillness unusual for a man-of-war prevailed among the crew. It was the hour of their evening meal; and the low hum that came from the gun-deck had an indistinct and buzzing sound, which, like the tiny song of bees of a warm summer noon, rather heightened than diminished the charm of the surrounding quiet. The spar-deck was almost deserted. The quarter-master of the watch, with his spy-glass in his hand, and dressed in a frock and trowsers of snowy whiteness, stood aft upon the tafferel, erect and motionless as a