Blest watchers o'er his day-dreams. Not a sign
Of man or his abode met ear or eye,
But one great wilderness of living wood,
O'er hill, and cliff, and valley, swelled and waved,

An ocean of deep verdure. By the rock

Which bound and strengthen'd all their massive roots
Stood the great oak and giant sycamore;
Along the water-courses and the glades
Rose the fair maple and the hickory;

And on the loftier heights the towering pine-
Strong guardians of the forest-standing there,
On the old ramparts, sentinels of time,
To watch the flight of ages."

These verses are pretty, perhaps very pretty. They give nature a charming appearance,-too much like the "everlasting spring" of Ovid. Do you not seem to lie in the shade of a European forest? Here are the same trees, the same flowers, the same animals. But the trees are more abundant of leaves, the grass is thicker, the sun is brighter, the waters warmer. But there is no profoundly original painting, no broad description by a few great outlines.

The flowery brink, Despair's deep sob concludea!
Startled, we strive to free us from the chain-
Notes of high triumph swell, and we are thine again!

MOZART.

IF to the intellect and passions strong

Beethoven speak, with such resistless power,
Making us share the full creative hour,
When his wand fixed wild Fancy's mystic throng,
Oh, Nature's finest lyre! to thee belong

The deepest, softest tones of tenderness,
Whose purity the listening angels bless,
With silvery clearness of seraphic song.
Sad are those chords, oh heavenward striving soul!
A love, which never found its home on earth,
Pensively vibrates, even in thy mirth,
And gentle laws thy slightest notes control;
Yet dear that sadness! spheral concords felt
Purify most those hearts which most they melt.

Of these two sonnets, we prefer that of Mozart, as expressing better, in our opinion, the character of the music of the great master-as more discriminating than that of Beethoven-a perfect description besides of the author of Fidelio. The sonnets appear curious to us as sparklings of aesthetic poetry beyond the seas.

The sentiments of American pride and of national susceptibility vibrate here and there in all this poetry, but not very often. The remembrance of the early emigrants, the description of America wher inhabited by savage hordes, and the comparison of this barbaric state with the in

The sentiment of the beautiful and ideal is expressed in this collection of poetry, in an uncolored, abstract, and metaphysical manner. We are not sure that all these women love and understand the beautiful arts, and particularly the plastic arts; the only one whose influence they feel deeply, and which they seem to prefer, is music. And this preference among the mo-dustrial wonders of the nineteenth century, are derns for music is a curious fact. The superiority given to it above painting and sculpture may be accounted for in some degree by the fact that music accords more with woman's instincts. Music is truly the art of the nineteenth century par excellence; it is the art which expresses best incredible aspirations; it is an art democratic in its essence. Appreciated by all living beings, even the unintelligent tribes, to be felt, music demands neither science nor long study-it makes every one happy, and tells to each the story of his love.

To produce sculptors, poets, and painters, it is necessary that a country should boast of many centuries, of a history, of a long succession of traditions, of established customs; but modern nations, particularly Americans, outstrip time, act with precipitation, and have no leisure to wait the traditions of history. Hence this extraordinary love of music, the least costly of the arts. They love music as one loves the conversations of the evening, and refreshing sleep after a hard day's labor. The art of music then is, if we dare say so, the art of nations who have no time for meditation and reflection-the art of ardent and feverish nations; for, to be understood, it requires only that a man should have a soul, with warm desires and hopes. We find in this collection two sonnets in honor of Beethoven and Mozart, in which the genius of the two masters is perfectly appreciated and felt. They are from Margaret Fuller, since Countess d'Ossoli, who was drowned by shipwreck on her return to her native country.

BEETHOVEN.

MOST intellectual master of the art,

Which best of all teaches the mind of man
The universe in all its varied plan-
What strangely mingled thoughts thy strains impart!
Here the faint tenor thrills the inmost heart,

There the rich bass the reason's balance shows;
Here breathes the softest sigh that love e'er knows;
There sudden fancies, seeming without chart,
Float into wildest breezy interludes;
The past is all forgot-hopes sweetly breathe,
And our whole being glows-when lo! beneath

From Nanuntenoo, an Indian Romance. By Frances H. Green.
Philadelphia, 1850.

themes somewhat rare, but which are nevertheless not forgotten. We have also noticed two or three pieces which brought a smile upon our lips -where the shades of old Indian sachems appear to bless modern civilization, and seem ready to thank the Great Spirit for having exterminated their race, despoiled and chased from their own native woods and prairies. There are besides a few picces borrowed from historic subjects, and a few dedicated to individuals; some pages in honor of Washington and Napoleon, and this is all. The rest is composed of mere musings, fancies, and elegies, expressing no precise and distinct sentiment.

But what matters the relative weakness of this poetry? Let us rise to higher spheres than that purely literary. The moral character and the virtues which this collection of poetry suggests are superior to the poetry itself. Who can tell, indeed, the good which may be done by these musical reveries and innocent caprices? They have been composed in the bosom of tranquillity, by the fireside, among parents, children, relatives, and friends. These were the public to which they addressed themselves, who admired them, and drew from them their contributions to the good and beautiful. Probably many chaste tendernesses are recognized by the banks of these little limpid fountains of poesy; many hearts have rejoiced in these tender harmonies; many a man, weary with the labors of the day, has felt the sweet words of his daughter or his wife thrill his soul; he has beheld the bright gleams of ideal realities, and laid himself down and dreamed of images of higher beauty. In that hard, practical country, many poetic germs have thus taken root, many coarse natures have become more refined. What matters it, then, whether these specimens of poetry be original or not?-they have been useful. We offer our thanks to the female poets of America, for the seeds of piety, virtue, and nobility sown in their country. Without noise, filled their mission of religion and refinement. without humanitary pretensions, they have ful

JEANNE MARIE, AND LYRICAL POETRY
IN GERMANY.

WE

E are induced to translate for The International the following crisply written critique from Die Grenzboten, not only from its giving for the benefit of certain of our dilettanti German scholars a few judicious remarks on the true merit of their "new celebrity." JEANNE MARIE, but because the preceding account of the present state of lyrical poetry in Germany, is very nearly as applicable to lyrical poetry as it now exists among the rising bards of America and England as to that of the fatherland:

poem'-though perhaps not an atom of the whole is the result of aught save mere reproduction. What is really wanting to all our writers is the correct and artistic adaptation of terms. For this of the thoughts and forms of others is but a rough modern dilettanti reproduction and combination and uncomely parody of those poetic creations, which were consecrated by an earnest striving and silent battle with the force of language. Among the numerous modern poets in Germany, there live not a dozen who can write a truly correct verse and make just applications of our so poetically adapted language. The which assertion, seemingly a paradox-is nevertheless natural enough.

age, and correspond with modern wants. Such a peculiar influence on the interest of the public at large has naturally conducted to the most elegant style of publication of recent poems. It has become a real pleasure to see their paper, type, and

cately trimmed and lettered with burnished gold. Such a highly ornamented work at present adorns every table, and appears right well in the white little hand of its fair possessor.

flected much in the world, and had also her own experiences therein-yet knows how to express with propriety and consciousness her most passionate feelings. She is, however, in her poems, rather witty and calculating, than inspired with heart and soul. Those productions are, for the greater part, images and comparisons-not unfrequently very exquisitely conceived and executed

"It is now about a century since the beginning of our most brilliant German lyrical era, and we "And yet the creative impulse lives in many a are at the conclusion of a series of developments, soul, nor has there for a long time existed a more which individually display all of the peculiarities generally diffused or more exquisite appreciation indicative of the decline of a great epoch in art. of lyrical poetry than during the past year. New The incredible number of subjects which have been poets of an aristocratic or pious tendency are eaartistically treated, has inspired the minds of our gerly purchased and admired, which is also accotemporaries with an almost superfluity of poeti-cording to rule, since they reflect the spirit of the cally adapted figures, forms, tones and materials, with which we are familiar from our first breath. Vast numbers of corresponding series of similes, and combinations of words and sentences have been naturalized in our language, and the spirit of the rising generation cannot be other than pow-binding, and their neat garments of fine linen, delierfully influenced by the incredible variety of forms and phrases, which it acquires during education. From all which a limitation of the creative power naturally results-since there is hardly a sentiment, hardly a perception of the present "The poems of Jeanne Marie, the popular roday, which has not been rendered applicable to mance writer, are by an intelligent and well edupoetic art; and the array of these imposing crea-cated lady. She has evidently observed and retions ring in the soul of the young poet wonderfully through each other. It is almost impossible to experience a new feeling which has not been sung, and yet the impulse still exists to win for the again and again experienced, a value, and a certain degree of originality. From which results the most desperate efforts, by means of bold, artificial, highly polished or tasteless images and comparisons, to form a style and acquire a peculiar literary physiognomy: efforts which should by no means be despised, even when the critic is compelled to blame its results; for it is natural and unavoidable. Such a superabundance of poetic forms of address, applications, words, and measures, are at present current in the world, that for every poetic feeling a prosaic or metrical reminiscence rings and echoes consciously or unconsciously, and more or less clearly, through the poetic soul. To avoid this wearisome beaten path, our poets are driven, on the one hand, into unheard of refinements of metre and words-or on the other, into an affected barbarism and roughness. And since the quantity of poetic metres, applications, and forms of speech, has become so incredibly large that they every where pass and are received as a sort of spiritual small change, it has become infinitely easier to express an idea in tolerably good poetic language, than it was fifty years ago. Gleim, Holty, and Bürger, are to us great men, not because their poems are so much better than those manufactured at the present day, but because their every poem was a victory gained over the barbarism and want of form in the German language as it then existed-a true conquest for the realm of beauty and art. At present, any fool who has by heart his Schiller or his Heine, can collect and write that which may pass for his

the point being occasionally a gross antithesis, as for example in the poem, Alles nur Du:

"What I most longed for, thou hast to me given, What I possess, belongeth all to thee; Thou art mine I-thine is my life and heaven, My life is thine, and thine my all To-Be,' "Or in other poems, the conclusion merely amounts to the explanation of a comparison, as in the New Cloak Song, in which on a rusty nail, a torn cloak explains itself as the cloak of Christian love. But where our poetess simply narrates or describes, her art is truly agreeable, only that the lively and closely detailed perceptions, which shoot forth in her soul, often appear obscure from a want of practice in poetic language, and not unfrequently entirely perverted on account of an utter deficiency in logical acuteness.

"But since this poetess is endowed with far more than her cotemporaries-id est, a peculiar talent to conceive and represent in a lively manner epic details-let us, for the sake of art, gently beg of her to do something for this her talent. She is by far too ignorant of the art of application of terms in lyrical poetry, her delivery is too variable and inaccurate, while botched-up expressions (Flickwörter) and startling instances of incorrectness in language are in her writings every where to be met with. As yet she is a mere amateur and dilettant, and her right, to lay before

the literary world her poetic inspirations, may very correctly be doubted; and yet she has evidently in her the material for something far better. This she can attain in only one way. She must lay aside all the flaunt and tawdriness of her similes and figures, and then strive to express a lively emotion or an interesting expression, with the simplest words, first in prose-and then in verse. What she has written should then be carefully thought over-every line and word tested, and no inaccuracy in poetical perceptions, no oblique expression, and no metrical defect be suffered to re

main.'

Authors and Books.

these are the signs of human and actual sympathy which these great and glorious geniuses show us as stately sky-sailed galleons, sweeping the sea into admiring calm at their progress, might hang out simple lanterns to the fishing-smacks around, to show their crews that the same red blood was the sap of all "Is he not the Just?" that splendid life. "Yes-and because he is the Just, I have done it." Poor old Herr Bodmer could not see with equanimity the illustrious guest of his imagination boating about the lake with the girls at Zurich, and selling the stanzas-of priceless worth to him-for a snatched and blushing kiss. For our own part, we are glad A NEW German work,, entitled Klopstock in that generous Mr. Morikofer has pulled off Zurich from the years 1730 to 1751, gives the bleached horse hair wig of factitious graquite a new portrait of the poet of the Mes-vity, and shown us the natural moist and way. sias, who, both by the time of his appearance ing hair of a human-hearted poet. and by the dignity of his theme, is held as the patriarch of German poetry. In this A History of German Literature, from sprightly little volume the mystic halo with W. WACKERNAGEL, is coming out in parts at which an exaggerated homage has invested the Basle. Since Gervinus there has been no head of the genial young German rolls away, broad treatment of the subject. But Gerviand we behold a pleasant fellow in gay sum- nus gives us rather a history of the cultiva mer costume, floating about upon the blue lake tion than of the literature of Germany. Vilof Zurich, surrounded by a circle of fair and mar is much too partial and partisan, admiring votaries, to whom he chants strains and Hillebrand treats only the period from from his immortal poem, and reaps a harvest Lessing to the present time. Wackernagel of kisses in return. We behold a chivalrous surveys the whole ground from the beginequestrian dashing through the still streets of ning. The first part of his work is occuold Zurich, draining unreasonable depths of pied with the elder literature of Germany, but beer with wild students, biting glass, and he has handled it so dexterously that it inteswallowing coal, until the old Bodmer with rests the general reader, even while he devewhom he was living-a reverential admirer of lops the laws by which the old high German the great Prophet of the Messias, and in whose proceeded from the Gothic, and the middle imagination Klopstock sat separate in a god- high German from that. He divides the litelike and passionless serenity-was bitterly rary history into three parts. 1. The old grieved by these earthly experiences of a high German era, Frank, Carlovingian, of the Greek rather than of a Christian divinity, German Latinity of the bards. 2. The midcomplained, remonstrated, rebuked, until the dle high German, beginning with the Crusades, jovial poet was forced to leave the good Bod- and treating all the chivalric, social, and intermer's house, and betake himself to Rape's, national relations which they inspired. 3. with whom he sat in silken hose, and specu- The new German style. The treatise is orilated upon the universe. It is always plea-ginal and profound, and lacks only a little sant to hear these human facts of the heroes more elaboration of the biographical notices. of fame and imagination. Few things remove Washington farther from the general sympathy than the unbending austerity of hue in which his mental portrait is always colored. Why should our great men, whose humanity makes them dearer, go so solemnly and sadly through all posterity? Burns could draw the tired hostlers of village inns from their beds to listen open-mouthed and open-hearted to his wondrous and witching stories. Shakspeare shall always have stolen sheep, even though De Quincy proves by splendid and resonant reasoning that he could never have done it. Raphael shall have been a warmblooded man, spite of our cold-blooded speculations upon his saintship, so that we shall not wonder at De Maistre's delicate and dainty truth that the Fornarina "loved her love more than her lover." Not that sheep-steeling, or any other peccadillo is beautiful, or in any way to be commended or imitated, but that|

A SOMEWHAT curious proof of the influence which America at present exerts, even in language, may be found in the title of a dictionary (English and German), recently published at Brunswick. The title alluded to, is as follows: A new and complete dictionary of the English and German languages, compiled with especial regard to the American idiom for general use; containing a concise grammar, &c., &c. by WILLIAM ODELL ELWELL.

CARL HEIDELOFF, whose exquisite work on the architectural ornaments of the Middle Ages, should entitle him to the gratitude of every student of medieval art, will publish, before the end of this month, by Geigar of Nuremberz, a folio, illustrated with the finest steel engravings, entitled Architectonic Sketches, and complete buildings, in the Byzantine and Old German styles.

which, as regards extent, erudition, and accuracy, may be fairly ranked with any work on this subject extant. The title is, however, only partial; that of "An Universal History of Islamism," would be far more appropriate. The Khalifate forms, so to speak, a nucleus around which are grouped as integral parts all of the numerous dynasties which were in any degree connected with the Khalifate, while those which were more nearly within its influ ence, as the Saffarides, the Tulinides, Bujides, and Saljucks, are illustrated with extraordinary learning and research. An excellent history of Arabic literature to the midst of the fourth century of the Hegira is appropriately introduced. The reader will remember that SCHLOSSER, in the introduction to his fourth volume of the Weltgeschichte, remarks that in the oriental portion of that work he had been guided solely by the "Life of Mohammed," by Weil, and this "History of the Khalifate," of which, however, only the first volume had then appeared. Weil, remarks the great "modern Tacitus," "is at present universally recognized as one of the first oriental scholars in Germany or France. He has brought from manuscripts many new things to light, and his works may be regarded as historical sources."

IT has long been a mooted point among WEIL-not Alexander of the Corsaire, but the philosophers of the beautiful in Germany Dr. GUSTAV WEIL, Professor of Oriental lanwhether the art of gardening was a legitimate guages and History at Heidelberg-is publishbranch of æsthetic culture. Bouterweck de-ing at Mannheim, a History of the Khalifs,* nied that the artificial perversions of an oldfashioned French garden had the slightest relation to art, but admitted that the Landschafts-gartenkunst, or art of landscape gardening, might very properly be ranked with painting and sculpture. Thiersch passes the subject by in silent contempt, while Tittman, whose work on beauty and art is fast becoming a universal hand-book of æsthetics, declares, on the other hand, that it is, even more than architecture, closely allied to the study of the beautiful, since its object is far less directly connected with human wants, and more nearly related to the attractive and fascinating. Herr Rudolph Siebeck would appear, however, to have put the question for a time at rest, by a work at present publishing by Voigt, in Leipsic, entitled Die Vildende Gartenkunst, in ihren modernen Formen, which, as he very correctly asserts, "embraces in one comprehensive theory all those laws of the art of gardening which æsthetics present, by the application of natural and artificial methods, in order to plan and execute walks and grounds, according to the dictates of a refined taste." In pursuance of this great aim, Herr Siebeck, (who was, by the way, formerly the imperial Russian court-gardener at Lazienka, and is at present council-gardener at Leipsic,) after completing his education as a practical gardener, scientifically studied the higher principles of his art at the universities of Munich and Leipsic, both of which, but particularly the former, have long been celebrated for the facilities which they afford for this study. After which, under the kind patronage of Baron Hugel, he journeyed to "every country" the natives of which had so far advanced in the art of gardening as to deserve the honor of a visit. The results of this study and labor are given in the above-titled volume, which embraces all things, if not exactly from the cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop on the wall, at least from the largest royal park to the smallest garden in a city. The work is illustrated with twenty colored gar-uation of the enemy. His hero is Lichnowsky den plans, arranged according to the following categories: 1. Kitchen Gardens. 2. Pleasure Gardens. 3. Pleasure and Kitchen Gardens. 4. Public Gardens. 5. A Botanical Garden.

THE first volume of a new Life of Goethe, by J. W. SCHAFER, has been published, of which we find flattering accounts. Also the Life and Times of Joachim Jurgins, with Goethe's fragments upon his works by G. C. Guhsaner. He was the contemporary of Galileo, Kepler, Cartesius, &c.

VON RAHDEN, a German officer of note, has published some very interesting Reminiscences of a Military Career. The third part, which is just completed, contains the history of his campaigns with the earliest army in Spain. He is a soldier of the old type, and was devoted body and soul to Don Carlos-and if his story occasionally expands into romance, it is readily forgiven for the greater local truth and impression thereby obtained. He paints battlepieces in a most vivid manner, pervaded by that interest in the individual which lends so fascinating a charm to all narration. In his first Spanish battle, when stationed as an outpost in the very tempest of bullets and balls, he quietly takes time to draw the country and the sit

the young German Prince, who was so inhumanly butchered during the session of the German Parliament in Frankfort. He was in Spanish battle as cool, skilful, and death-despising, as he was chivalric against the crudeness of the political philosophers, and noble against the beastly brutality of his assassins, in central Germany.

THE third part of the life of BARON VON STEIN, the celebrated Prussian statesman, is published. The chief interest of this part is the history of Stein's sympathy with the EmFRANZ LISZT, the famous pianist, has writ-peror Alexander of Russia, whom he regarded ten a pleasant pamphlet in favor of the project of a Goethean Institute of Art in Weimar, where he is chapel master.

as the Saviour of Europe.

Weil's History of the Khalifs. 3 vols. octavo. Besserman, Mannhein, 1851.

ADELBERT KELLER, one of the most zea- A SINGULAR Occurrence which took place lous among the medieval romantic antiqua- very recently in Berlin affords a curious illusries of the Tubingen school, and well known tration of a line in The Poetry of the Anti-Jaby his accurate editions of the Gesta Roma- cobin, in which, speaking of German idioms, norum, Les Romans des Sept Sages, Romance- the writer somewhat inaccurately remarks, that ro del Cid, and Gudrun, has recently, in com-" the u, twice dotted, is pronounced like E;" pany with Wilhelm Holland, prepared for the inaccurately, we say, since this pronunciation press a new edition of the songs of Guillem is not found in the pure north German. Dr. IX., Count of Poictiers and Duke of Aquitania. In addition to the chair of Professor Extraordinary of Modern Languages, (which our readers need not be informed is nothing very extraordinary at a German university,) Keller holds the far more important office of teacher of the German Language and Literature at the university of Tubingen. We presume that few men, even in France or Germany, have more carefully or enthusiastically hunted over the various MS. libraries of Italy or his own country, in search of Minnesinger and Provençal literature than Keller.

THE twenty-fifth publication of the Geschichte der Europaischen Staaten (History of the States of Europe) consists of continuations of histories of Austria and Prussia. The series is edited by the well-known scholars HEEREN and UKERT. It has been in progress more than twenty years, and is designed to embrace a complete body of American history, by competent authors. Fifty volumes have already been issued, embracing in complete works, Italy, by Leo, finished 1832; German Empire, by Pfister, 1836; Saxony, by Bottiger, 1837; Netherlands, by Van Kampen, 1837; Austria, by Mailath, 1850; France to the Revolution, by Schmidt, 1848; France, from the Revolution, by Wachsmuth, 1844; the Histories of Denmark, by Dahlmann (vol. III. in 1844; of Portugal, by Schafer (vol. III. in 1850); of Russia, continued by Herrmann after Strahl's decease (vol. IV. 1849); of Prussia, by Stenzel (vol. IV. 1850) are all far advanced, and their completion may be looked for at no distant period. Single volumes, also, have appeared, by Zinkeisen, on the Ottoman Kingdom; by Ropel, on Poland; and by Bulau on the Modern History of Germany. The Athenæum observes that when the series is completed, the Germans and those who read German in other countries will have, in no immoderate compass, a body of European history, uniform in its general plan, and maintaining a standard of competent authorship such as cannot, we believe, be found in any other language.

THE well-known Countess SPAUR, the wife of the Bavarian Ambassador at Rome, is engaged upon a series of memoirs of events connected with the flight of the Pope from Rome in 1849. It will be remembered that the Pope escaped under convoy of the Bavarian ambassador, and the consequent completeness of information added to the graceful elegance of her style, will produce a brilliant and interesting book.

WIRTH, director of the opera at Berlin, was during the past month confounded by some not very intelligent police agents of that eity with the revolutionary WURTH (who was however deceased in 1848), arrested, and subjected to much personal inconvenience, before he could prove to their satisfaction that he was not the ci-devant disturber of kingly peace.

THE COUNTESS IDA HAHN-HAHN, has written her spiritual experience in a work published in Mannheim, entitled, From Babylon to Jerusa lem. It is a history of her own soul, showing how it journeyed from confusion and doubt to peace. In it she says of the famous holy coat of Treves: "It was not comprehended-what did that show? How wonderful and incredible it was that thousands and thousands journeyed up the Rhine and down, not alone of the lower classes, but of the intelligent, of the cultivated and elegant class. And could this be really the Saviour's garment? And were the cures real which had been reported in all the journals as wrought by it? Like all the rest, I shared the religious enthusiasm of which no Protestant can conceive. Instead of ridiculing and scorning, I wrote that I knew not if this was the identical garment, but this was certainly the same faith that cast the woman at the feet of Christ, and caused her to kiss the hem of his robe, and be healed. My instinct was just, but my reasoning false. For if the old faith was so fast, so glowing, and so immortal in the old church, how could I ever say better no church than one only?"

A SINGULAR book is announced in Germany, a country in which we are not aware that singular books have ever been rare, under the title of Intercourse with the Departed by means of Magnetism. "A book for the consolation of Humanity, containing the most irresistible evidence of the personal continuance and activity of the soul after its separation from the body, collected from contemporary notes taken from extatic somnambulists, by LUIS ALPHONSE CAHAGNET, with a critical preface by Dr. J. Newberth, authorized magnetizer in Berlin and Associate of the Imperial Leopold Academy of Sciences." A prospectus, modest enough in style but of very large pretensions, sets forth that it is not a speculation, but a communication of truth, which is nowise contrary to the Christian religion, but is calculated to exercise a genial influence upon the faithful to disperse all doubts and to advance the kingdom of Faith and Love. Who will fail warmly to wish "God-speed" to a work that proposes to accomplish such rich results?