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The bright barren waste of her mind. But rather than sit like a statue so still

When the rain made her mansion a pound,

Up and down would she go, like the sails
of a mill,
And pat every stair, like a woodpecker's bill,

From the tiles of the roof to the ground.

One morn, as the maid from her casement inclin'd,
Pass'd a youth, with a frame in his hand.
The casement she clos'd-not the eye of her mind;
For, do all she could, no, she could not be blind;
Still before her she saw the youth stand.
"Ah, what can he do," said the languishing maid,
Ah, what with that frame can he do?"
And she knelt to the Goddess of Secrets, and
pray'd,

46

When the youth pass'd again, and again he display'd

The frame and a picture to view. "Oh, beautiful picture!" the fair Ellen cried, "I must see thee again or I die." Then under her white chin her bonnet she tied, And after the youth and the picture she hied,

When the youth, looking back, met her eye. "Fair damsel," said he, (and he chuckled the while)

"This picture I see you admire : Then take it, I pray you, perhaps 'twill beguile Some moments of sorrow; (nay, pardon my smile)

Or, at least, keep you home by the fire." Then Ellen the gift with delight and surprize

From the cunning young stripling receiv'd. But she knew not the poison that enter'd her eyes, When sparkling with rapture they gaz'd on her prize

Thus, alas, are fair maidens deceiv'd! "Twas a youth o'er the form of a statue inclin'd,

And the sculptor he seem'd of the stone; Yet he languish'd as tho' for its beauty he pin'd And gaz'd as the eyes of the statue so blind

Reflected the beams of his own.
'Twas the tale of the sculptor Pygmalion of old;
Fair Ellen remember'd, and sigh'd;
"Ah, could'st thou but lift from that marble so
cold,

Thine eyes too imploring, thy arms should enfold,
And press me this day as thy bride."
She said: when, behold, from the canvass arose
The youth, and he stepp'd from the frame :
With a furious transport his arms did enclose
The love-plighted Ellen: and, clasping, he froze
The blood of the maid with his flame!
She turn'd and beheld on each shoulder a wing.
"Oh, heaven! cried she, who art thou?"

From the roof to the ground did his fierce an-
swer ring,

As frowning, he thunder'd "I am the PAINT-
KING!

And mine, lovely maid, thou art now!" Then high from the ground did the grim monster lift

The loud-screaming maid like a blast;
And he sped through the air like a meteor swift,
While the clouds, wand'ring by him, did fear-
fully drift

To the right and the left as he pass'd.
Now suddenly sloping his hurricane flight,
With an eddying whirl he descends;
The air all below him becomes black as night,
And the ground where he treads, as if mov'd with
affright,

Like the surge of the Caspian bends.
"I am here!" said the Fiend, and he thundering

knock'd

At the gates of a mountainous cave;
The gates open flew, as by magic unlock'd,
While the peaks of the mount, reeling to and fro,

rock'd

Like an island of ice on the wave.

"Oh, mercy!" cried Ellen, and swoon'd in his

arms,

But the PAINT-KING, he scoff'd at her pain. "Prithee, love," said the monster, "what mean these alarms ?"

She hears not, she sees not the terrible charms,
That work her to horror again.

She opens her lids, but no longer her eyes
Behold the fair youth she would woo;
Now appears the PAINT-KING in his natural
guise:

His face, like a palette of villanous dies,

Black and white, red and yellow, and blue. On the skull of a Titan, that Heaven defied,

Sat the fiend, like the grim Giant Gog,
While aloft to his mouth a huge pipe he applied,
Twice as big as the Eddystone Lighthouse, des-
cried

As it looms through an easterly fog.
And anon, as he puff'd the vast volumes, were seen

In horrid festoons on the wall,

Legs and arms, heads and bodies emerging be

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With a rock for his muller he crush'd every bone, But, though ground to jelly, still, still did she

groan;

For life had forsook not the maid. Now reaching his palette, with masterly care Each tint on its surface he spread; The blue of her eyes, and the brown of her hair, And the pearl and the white of her forehead so fair,

And her lips' and her cheeks' rosy red. Then, stamping his foot, did the monster exclaim,

"Now I brave, cruel Fairy, thy scorn!" When lo! from a chasm wide-yawning there came A light tiny chariot of rose-colour'd flame,

By a team of ten glow-worms upborne. Enthron'd in the midst of an emerald bright, Fair Geraldine sat without peer; Her robe was a gleam of the first blush of light, And her mantle the fleece of a noon-cloud white,

And a beam of the moon was her spear.

In an accent that stole on the still charmed air
Like the first gentle language of Eve,
Thus spake from her chariot the Fairy so fair:
"I come at thy call, but, Oh Paint-King, beware,
Beware if again you deceive."

"Tis true," said the monster, "thou queen of my heart,

Thy portrait I oft have essay'd;
Yet ne'er to the canvass could I with my art
The least of thy wonderful beauties impart;

And my failure with scorn you repaid. "Now I swear by the light of the Comet-King's

tail!"

And he tower'd with pride as he spoke, "If again with these magical colours I fail, The crater of Etna shall hence be my jail,

And my food shall be sulphur and smoke., "But if I succeed, then, oh, fair Geraldine!

Thy promise with justice I claim, And thou, queen of Fairies, shalt ever be mine, The bride of my bed; and thy portrait divine Shall fill all the earth with my fame."

He spake; when, behold, the fair Geraldine's

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"I am lost!" said the Fiend, and he shook like a leaf;

When, casting his eyes to the ground,
He saw the lost pupils of Ellen with grief
In the jaws of a mouse, and the sly little thief
Whisk away from his sight with a bound.

"I am lost!" said the Fiend, and he fell like a

stone;

Then rising the Fairy in ire

With a touch of her finger she loosen'd her zone, (While the limbs on the wall gave a terrible groan,)

And she swelled to a column of fire.

Her spear now a thunder-bolt flash'd in the air,
And sulphur the vault fill'd around:
She smote the grim monster; and now by the
hair

High-lifting, she hurl'd him in speechless despair

Down the depths of the chasm profound.

Then over the picture thrice waving her spear,

"Come forth!" said the good Geraldine; When, behold, from the canvass descending appear

Fair Ellen, in person more lovely than e'er,
With grace more than ever divine!

The length of this sprightly and amusing legend will prevent our making any extracts from the remaining pieces in this collection. We can barely say of them, that they are not dis

creditable to the author as a man of taste and a scholar, without adding much to his merit as a votary of the muse.

On the whole, we augur well from this specimen of Mr. Allston's poetical abilities, and sincerely hope that he will not wholly neglect them, in yielding to the increasing demands on his manual skill. As compared with his rivals for the bays, Mr. Allston has received less praise than he has deserved. Of late, indeed, the success of this class of writers has been in the inverse ratio of their desert. There is a marked distinction between Mr. Allston's manner and the style of the idols of fashionable adulation. The flashes of his fancy remind us of the innocuous corruscations of summer lightning, theirs is not only the lurid glare, but the terrific detonation, of the sulphurous' cloud.

E.

6

ART. 2. The Life of Robert Fulton, by his friend Cadwallader D. Coldėn. Read before the Literary and Philosophical Society of New-York: Comprising some Account of the Invention, Progress, and Establishment of SteamBoats; of improvements in the Construction and Navigation of Canals, and other objects of Public Utility. With an Appendix. New-York. KIRK & MERCEIN. 1817. 8vo. pp. 372.

the

THE HE present is the age of book-ma- by a warm admirer, and still less by a king, and especially of biography. personal friend, and one who has himThe lives of individuals, and frequently self been associated in the designs and of individuals whose eminence is known labours, the history of which it is his only to their biographers and a few of business to relate. We may be told their intimate friends-occupy as much that the desire of personal reputation is space on the shelves of a library, if not no unworthy motive, and that a regard in public attention, as is allotted to the for the reputation of our friends is one history of nations. An eminent states of the most amiable traits of the human man fills at least three thick volumes: character,-no matter,--the truth, the doings and sayings of a celebrated simple unadorned truth, is what we divine or a respectable poet are with want; and this can best be obtained difficulty compressed into two; and the by deriving our information from those memorabilia of some pious lady, whose only whose testimony is liable neither manifold virtues have rendered her to be perverted by interest, nor swayname known to half the town, and ed by affection. If this rule were folher person to half a street, cannot lowed, biographies would be less fre be duly set forth to her bereaved quent, and we should lose something of friends and a grateful public in less the zeal and interest with which they than a full-sized octavo. The great are written. But the cause of truth objection to this inordinate claim upon would be a gainer, and there is little public attention is that it is impossible danger, in the present state of literature, to comply with it. We have some con- that sufficient inducements of fame and cerns relating to our own lives to which profit will not be held out to record the we must attend, and really cannot read history and the virtues of those emiso many books. We are ready to ac- nently great and good men who have knowledge that the present is not an been the benefactors or ornaments of occasion which peculiarly demands re- their age. marks of this nature. If it were, we We would sedulously guard against should extend and apply them with the impression that we mean to repremuch relish if not with some pungency. sent the life of Mr. Fulton by his friend Mr. Fulton was in truth a distinguished Mr. Colden as intentionally coloured. man, and a public benefactor. It was We merely imagine that in relating the fitting that a memoir of his life should efforts and delineating the character of be preserved; and if his merits have a personal and intimate friend, with been somewhat overrated, much apolo- whom the relater was, in some degree gy may be found in the patriotism at least, united in his hopes and his which seeks to raise the honour of the fears, his failures and his success, he country through the merit of an eminent has not been able to resist the influence citizen, and still more in the ardour of which such circumstances so forcibly private affection, striving to exalt the re- exert. putation of a departed friend. This, however, is apology and not justification. Indeed, we think that the biography of an individual should never be written

In the very commencement of the work Mr. Colden thus fixes the point of elevation at which he thinks the character of Mr. Fulton is entitled to stand.

We cannot think that it will be impu- ters by steam upon the patent obtainted to an undue partiality for our regretted ed by him from the United States, but associate, if we say that there cannot be found on the records of departed worth, the altogether upon the several statutes of the State of New York; and we prename of a person to whose individual exertions mankind are more indebted than sume the reason was because a patenthey are to the late Robert Fulton. The tee under the United States must at all combined efforts of philosophers and times be able to prove that he was the statesmen have improved the condition of man; but no individual has conferred original inventor of the improvement in question, whereas by the statutes of more important benefits on his species than he whose memory now engages our this State the exclusive privilege was absolutely granted without any such condition.

attention.

When we have taken a view of what he has done, and bestowed some consideration

on its effects, it will not appear that this praise is exaggerated, and we shall be obliged to acknowledge that though others may have been conducted in the paths of science by superior learning, and may have had a more dazzling career, the labours of no individual have been more honourable, meritorious, or practically useful.

Robert Fulton, the subject of the memoir, was born of Irish parents, in Litthe Britain, in the county of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, in 1765. His family is said to have been respectable, but not rich. Mr. Colden says that his peculiar genius manifested itself at an early age, and that his leisure hours in childWe have sufficiently intimated an hood were spent in mechanics' shops or opinion that it would have been well devoted to the pencil. This latter emto have assumed a tone somewhat ployment seems at that time to have lower, because it might have been possessed the greatest attractions, for better sustained, but there is a part of from the age of seventeen to that of this praise in which we are disposed twenty-one he painted portraits and very heartily to join. Mr. Fulton cer- landscapes, at Philadelphia, for profit. tainly was, and to a very eminent de- He then purchased, with his earnings, gree, "practically useful." With an a little farm in Pennsylvania, upon adequate knowledge of the philosophical which he established his mother. We principles relating to the subjects of his rejoice to record this circumstance, as investigation, with what is called an in- we can scarcely conceive one more genious mechanical turn of mind, and honourable to the character of a young favoured by circumstances with ample man. It proves early industry, frugaleisure and other means to retrieve un lity, and great strength of filial affecavoidable failures and continue his ex- tion. In the same year he went to periments, he has turned them to good England to improve himself in his proaccount, and left the world his debtor. fession, as a painter, under the patronHis great merit, in our opinion, con- age of Mr. West. He was for some sisted not in invention, but improve- years an inmate in the family of that ment. Upon this part of the subject gentleman. After leaving it he removed it certainly behoves us to speak with to Devonshire, and remained in that modesty, for we frankly confess that place and in other parts of England our ignorance of mechanics is such as for some years longer-it does not to prevent our being competent judges clearly appear how many, and then in the matter. It would appear, how went to France. During the latter part ever, that Mr. Colden himself thinks of his stay in England he seems to have proper rather to insinuate than to assert relinquished his profession, and to his claim to originality, and we believe have busied himself about several prothe fact to be, that neither Mr. Fulton jects relating chiefly to canal naviganor his counsel ever chose to rest his tion. In '98 he addressed (we presume right to the exclusive navigation of wa- from France) some general specula

In making his experiments, Mr. Fulton not only remained a whole hour under water with three of his companions, but had the boat parallel to the horizon at any given distance. He proved that the compass points as correctly under water as on the surface, and that while under water, the boat made way at the rate of half a league an hour, by means contrived for

that

purpose.

tions on French politics to Lord Stanhope, who appears to have been his intimate friend; but though designed for the public, they attracted little of the public attention, as his biographer does not even know whether they were ever in fact published or not. In 1797, he took lodgings at an hotel in Paris, with Mr. Joel Barlow, with whom he formed so strong a friendship, that when Mr. If we may judge of the future from B. soon after removed to his own hotel, the past, it would seem necessary for he invited Mr. F. to reside with him, and the success of these projects, to obtain for some years Mr. Fulton was a mem- the consent of those who are to be "deber of the family of Mr. Barlow. He composed,' ," which has not yet been projected a panorama, which proved done. Mr. Fulton was therefore never successful and beneficial, and made some experiments upon the explosion of gunpowder under water. The French Directory gave him hopes of patronizing these attempts, but at length with drew their support. He offered the project to the Dutch government, but it was declined. It was then offered to Bonaparte, who had become first consul, and he appointed a commission with funds and powers to give the required assistance. While in France, and probably about this period, he formed an intimate acquaintance with Chancellor Livingston, and at that period those gentlemen laboured conjointly in their attempts to introduce steam navigation, which was afterwards at tended with such brilliant success. In 1801, he made several experiments with a plunging boat, designed for submarine warfare, with a degree of success which seems to have been satisfactory to himself. The following very flattering account of it was given by St. Austin, a member of the tribunal.

The diving boat, in the construction of which he is now employed, will be capacious enough to contain eight men, and provision enough for twenty days, and will be of sufficient strength and power to enable him to plunge one hundred feet under water, if necessary. He has contrived a reservoir of air, which will enable eight men to remain under water eight hours. When the boat is above water, it has two sails, and looks just like a common boat; when she is to dive, the mast and sails are struck.

able to demolish an English ship, although he watched long and anxiously such as approached the French coast, for that purpose. The rulers of France being at length discouraged, and Mr. Fulton thinking that the all-important object was to blow up ships, and so that were effected, it was no great matter to what power they might happen to belong, turned his eyes for patronage to the English government-or they turned their eyes to him. Mr. Colden seems very properly aware that this conduct of his friend might make an unpleasant impression on the minds of those who were not, like his biographer, acquainted with the elevation and philanthropy of his views, and seeks to justify him by the following defence:

It must be recollected, that Mr. Fulton's enthusiastic notions of the advantages of an universal free trade and the liberty of the seas, had led to the inventions which he was then endeavouring to employ, and

which, as he supposed, would annihilate naval armaments, the great support in his estimation of what he called the war system of Europe. He was persuaded, that if this system could be broken up, all nations would direct their energies to education, the sciences, and a free exchange of their natural advantages. He was convinced, that if, on the contrary, the Europeans continued to cherish this war sys tem, and to support and augment their great naval armaments, his own country would be driven to the necessity of protecting herself by similar establishments, which, as he thought, would be inimical to her republican institutions, and de

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