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with its stage open to all parts ef the building. The difficulty in hearing, as we gather from the * Albion,' is, however, a serious tax upoo this latter improvement.' 'La Guzza Ladra,' we learn, has been well produced, with our old favorites, GIUBELET, SEGUIN and bis lady, and Miss Poole, in the principal parts, of whose performances report speaks favorably.

Hill's THEATRE. – This neat little establishment, originally the 'Franklin Theatre,' has been fitted up and embellished in a most comfortable and elegant manner. The conversion of the old pit into a convenient and handsome parquette, is a great improvement. Mr. Hill, a 'star' of the first magnitude in his new orbit, has succeeded in effecting a short engagement with himself; and his appearance is always sufficient to fill the house. But, added to this, he has an excelleat stock company for the production of light and entertaining performances. The mavagement is complete ; and wo females are permitted to visit the house, unaccompanied by a gentleman.

THE CHatham Theatre has been crowded nightly during the month, mainly through the attractive force' of James Crow, Esquire, whose extravaganzas are still the delight of boys, and children of a larger growtb. The melodramatic spectacle of. Peter Wilkins, the Flying Dutchman,' has also had a successful run at this house, which is realizing handsome profits.

Old Trinity CHURCH. - We are gratified in so soon being able to present the satirical lines to 'Old Trinity,' written for the KNICKERBOCKER some weeks since, by J. M. Field, Esq., of New-Orleans, as he was on the eve of sailing for Europe, but accidentally lost, as mentioned in the number for August. Mr. Field encountered the KNICKERBOCKER in Paris, and perceiving the announcement of the missing effusion, supplied us at once with a second copy, for which he will accept our readers' thanks, and ours. The spirit which pervades the poetical and prose sketches of 'STRAWS,' and those of his gifted brother - par nobile fratrum — in that small but sterling piece of circulating medium,' the ‘Picayuse,' are as marked as the journal itself, when it falls a bonne bouche into the hands of country editors.

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And how the old spire trembled as

They set the bells a-swinging ;
And how we trenibled too, while we

Were ruug down by the riuging :
And how, George, we were always caught

While stealing down the stair,
And got a shaking from the man,'

Because we weut up there.

You remember, George, old Trinity,

Which used iu olden time,
The olden time when we were young,

To ring its solewa chime?
Which stood in Broadway, opposite

To that important small street,
And like a frowning augel over-

Looked the sin of Wall-street ? C'or course you do; well, it is down;

No inore its spire aspires;
"Tis low as are the dead around,

As mute as their desires :
In coming up old New-York bay,

You wonder where can be it;
You feel there's something wrong, you sec,

Because you doesu't see it.

Well, the old church is down, and they're

A-putting up a new one;
I don't care how they sleeple it,

It won't be the old blue one!
I sha'n't go there to say my prayers,

The world will seem too nigh us;
There's naught like venerable stone,

For inaking one feel pious.

Last summer, I remember, George,

While sitting at Hoboken,
We saw the weathercock was gone,

The spire below was broken ;
Day after day we saw it go,

Each day we sat a-thinking ; Nor counted the milk punches we

Consumed while it was sinking.

There's one thing which surprises me,

And I suspect they'll rue it;
That they should let the grave-yard stand,

Nor carry Wall-street through it!
Wbat matters the repose of bones,

Though father, wife, or mother,
When people want a short-cut from

One river to the other!

We used to think how often, George,

We'd travelled up that spire,
To see the world, and how we wished

That it was a mile higher :
And how we dreamed of journeyings

By water and on dry land;
And wondrous climes which lay beyond

Harlem and Staten Island!

What were the deep ones thinking of?

What ail'd the corporation ?
Lord! what a chance for building lots,

Old bones, and speculation !
There's something wondrous in the wind

That blows so strange a feather;
For onco, meu spare their parents' bones,

In pref'rence to shoe-leather!

The 'SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.' Our Southern contemporary is becoming as corpulent as an alderman; and likean alderman, moreover, is generally distended with good things. In the present instance, however, there are “two single gentlemen rolled into one;' in other words, the September and October numbers come to us unda a single cover. There are in all fifty-two articles, in prose and verse, some of which are dull, but many of distinguished excellence. One of the most pleasant and congenial papers in the number, to our taste, is the graceful and thoughtful 'Midsummer Fancies' of our esteemed correspondent, George D. STRONG, Esq. The ardent love and deep appreciation of external nature which it exhibits, sufficiently evince that the writer, although like SPRAGUE of Boston bound to the official responsibilities of important financial institutions, has yet an eye to see and a heart to feel the 'visible things of God.' The contrast between peace, plenty, and war, in the opening, is illustrated by a simile equally striking and beautiful. We commend the annexed scene in the carnival of nature to general admiration :

* And the music, too ; how likest thou the variod notes of that Malibran of feathered songsters, the Mockiug-bird. Tarry till the beat of the day is past, and the leader of the tiny orchestra mar. shals the whole troupe for a grand display; and if (or twenty-four hours thereafter thou lispest a syllable in laudation of any Italian corps under heaven, I will forseit the first glance of redewed affection from a pair of as lovely eyes as ever led a disciple of Esculapins to forget bis see, or betrayed an expounder of Blackstone into the abandonment of his client's cause, from its intrinsic injustice. While the principal singers are rehearsing in the greea-room, the crimson-lufted Woodpecker quiets the impatience of the audience, by beating his everlasting reveillee; while the Bobo'link, the roguish Merry Andrew of the tribe, like a spoiled favorite of the pil, skips before and behind the curtain, at his own good pleasure.

As the noon-day heat relaxes, the squirrel with busty tail alost, like the sail of a pleasure-boat, skips into the leafy arena;' etc.

We will leave even this clipped example of pleasant grouping with the reader, as ample evidence of the justice of our encomium.

"New-AMSTERDAM' IN THE OLDEN TIME. – We alluded in our last number to a beautiful picture of New-Amsterdam, in the time of WouteR VAN TWILLER, from the pencil of Mr. T. B Thorpe; and we advert to the subject again, to say, that when the times' shall have a little mended, we shall cause it to be reproduced on steel, for the edification of our readers. Mr. THORPE is now on his way to the South and West, and we commend him to the courtesies and patrooage of our readers in those regions, and particularly in those felicitous sections, East and West Feliciana, (La.,) where he proposes, as we learn, to quarter for the winter. Mr. Thorpe is an artist of decided genius, and sure promise; and but for an amiable and mistaken modesty - for the world meets nobody half way – would ere this have made himself most favorably known to the public. The first and ouly picture he ever exhibited, was one in the American Academy, some eight or ten years ago, called • The Bold Dragoon,' from WASHINGTON Irving's story of that oame. Col. TRUM. BULL, as we learn from a friend, was so well pleased with it, that he had one of his own pictures removed, to place it in the best possible light; observing, that he had never seen a painting that told the whole story more completely.' This picture was afterward purchased by Judge IRVING, in whose family we believe it now remains. Not long after this, Mr. Thorpe left New-York to enter college ; but subsequently, finding his bealth failing, he repaired to the South, where he has resided until his recent visit to the North. The public are indebted to Mr. Thorpe's pen, through that excellent literary and sporting journal, the Spirit of the Times,'for many graphic descriptions of southern life and scenery, some of which have been widely quoted and commended in England. We close this hurried tribute with our best wishes for Mr. THORPE's success in bis profession, and a return, ere long, to his native state, and a wider field for the exercise of his fine talents.

T.O. Porter, Esq., late editor of the ‘Corsair' literary journal, has associated himself with Mr. Coudert in the management of the well-known English and Classical School for Boys, near Elizabethtown, (N. J.) To the attainments of a scholar, and the character of an accomplished gentleman, Dr. Porter adds a knowledge of the best methods of instruction, and a fitting appreciation of, and sympathy with, the feelings of the young. Aence we have pleasure in congratulating Mr. COUDERT upon the fortunate acquisition of so competent a coadjutor.

Mr. Street's Poem. — Nothing makes us more regret the crowded state of our pages, than the necessity it involves of merely indicating the existence of, rather than adequately noticing, such literary efforts as the one now before us, from our friend and correspondent, Alfred B. Street, Esq. It is a poem entitled 'Nature,' and was pronounced by the author before the Euglossian Society, at the 'commencement of Geneva college, in August last. To those who are familiar with Mr. Street's felicitous descriptions of external nature – and all our readers are certainly of the number — we need not say, that the minutest limning of the artist could not more faithfully transfer a living landscape to the canvass, than docs Mr. Street with his pen. The poem opens with a glance at Creation, the Deluge, etc., and then proceeds, by a series of well-chosen and artist-like contrasts, to depict the scenery of various countries, England, Switzerland, Africa, etc., and closing with a gorgeous picture of American scenery, in its different varieties, and under the changes of the seasons. A single extract is all for which we can find space; but happily, it is of such a character, that all who read it will need no other inducement to seek out and peruse the entire performance from which it is taken:

* An Englieh landscape: a green winding lane,
Skirted with fragrant hawthorns, casting down
Broad stripes of shadow on the pleasant grass,
Streak'd by the slaut rays of the rinking sun;
The mown hay's odor fills the balmy air,
And the light clanging of the sharpening scythe
Rings from the meadow: o'er yon grove of oaks
Tufting the sky with dome-like foliage,
Points the moss'd steeple of the village church;
And through the parted edges of the leaves
Gleam the white grave-stories: by the cottage-porch
Stoops the rough cart, its long tongue thrust to earth,
And wear it crouches the tired panting ox,
And the grim mastiff, growling in his sleep.
Beneath the woodbin'd lattice, flashing back
Iu dazzling sparks the sunshine, the faint hum
of the whirl'd spinning-wheel is blending sweet
With the deep low of the approacbing kine,
And the shrill creaking of the harvest-wain ;
O'er the green wave of meadow, melting dim
In the far distance, sweeps the lordly park,
With its gray ivied castle, haughtily
Frowning with tower and wall and battlement."

ALLOQUIAL CONVERSERS. We do not know of a greater Bore in a small circle of friends, literary or social, than your alloquial 'conversationist,' a personage who talks to and not with you; who, forgetting that conversation is a property in common, in which no one has the right to eject his neighbur, doles out his prolix 'views' on ah. struse themes, with the air of a Sir Oracle; who is so bent upon a selfish display of what he considers an accomplishment, tha: he only pauzes, at distant intervals, to take breath; when, at the interposition of an adverse word from another party, he meets the interposer with, ‘But you will perceive,' or 'Nay, but you will observe,' etc., and forth with he goes back to'first principles,' and retraces the premises and enforces the arguments he has been laying down upon some crude and barren subject. Such memorable

conversers' we have encountered, and so doubtless have our readers, in persons whose manners were otherwise unexceptionable, and who plumed themselves upon being American gentlemen. But in the best and most agreeable society, this penchant of yearning alloquists is seldom tolerated. In France, it has been pleasantly observed, it is so far from being admitted as an accomplishment, that it is not even understood as a disease! And a disease' it is, in good truth, and has been epidemic; but its day is nearly over. We remember to have been made aware, some months since, of certain ill-natured comments from a distant and we may infer an indifferent source, upon our remarks in relation to COLERidge, in this regard, who, with his pomp of knowledge, was certainly the best of this class of interminable conversers. Yet even the English VOL. XVI.


'De Monologue,' as Madam De Stael forcibly termed him, was, as we affirmed, with proofs, a 'dreadful bore.' The fact is transpiring on all sides, now that the prestige of his long talks has vanished away. 'Christopher North,' in the last number of BLACKWOOD, has hit the nail on the head, and driven it home. 'COLERIDGE,' says he, was not a converser; he was a lecturer. His sentences were dissertations; his very metaphors had beginning, middle, and end; his divisions were as numerous, parenthetical, and positive as those of a preacher of the Moravian connection; and in the brisk. est conversation he seemed never able to disengage himself from the idea, that it was his duty at once to enlighten and astound the whole living race of mankind, beside leaving a handsome legacy for all generations to come. He was no conversationist. He declaimed; he harangued; he talked long and loftily; his reveries were of the pagan muthoi, of Mesmerism, of the Samothracian impostures, and the profundities of science lost to mankind in the burning of the Alexandrian library. His mind was like one of the obelisks of his favorite land – wild, odd, antique, covered with characters which doubtless meant something, but which no man could interpret, and puzzling every body with the question, why so much trouble was taken in vain. As an example of COLERIDGE's hieroglyphical and oracular style, the following clear and sonorous sentence is repeated from his lips, as recorded in his 'Literary Remains:' "The absolute subjectivity, whose only attribute is the Good; whose only' definition is, that which is essentially causative of all possible true being; the adorable Apotputov which, whatever is assumed as the first, must be presumed its antecedent, Ocos without an article, and yet not as an adjective,' ctc. Blackwood's opinions of Coleridge's 'conversations' are those of nine-tenths of the readers in Great Britain and America, and of all whom we have encountered, who had ever listened to his oracular teachings.

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Messrs. Wiley and Putnam's New PUBLICATIONE. - We have received, through this enterprising and favorite English and American house, the last two numbers of the 'Pictorial Shakspeare' – a work which we have heretofore noticed, and which for various merits, pictorial and literary, is altogether unrivalled — and the seventh 'Part' of * Heath's Waverley Gallery of the Principal Female Characters in Sir Walter Scott's Romances and Poems,' a series of engravings than which we have had nothing so beautiful, nor so comparatively cheap, from across the water these two years. The same publishers have received the last three numbers, being the completion, of 'The Heads of the People,' which we have frequently noticed. The numbers contain capital illustrations of the 'British Soldier,' the 'Chelsea Pensioner,' the ‘British Sailor,' the "Greenwich Pensioner,' the 'Radical M. P.,' and the 'Corporation Heads,' Mayor, Aldermen, Common Council, etc., etc.

"THE CONFESSIONS OF Harry LORREQUER.' – Messrs. CAREY AND HART, Philadelphia, have published this most entertaining work, in a large and handsome volume, with numerous illustrations by 'Priz.' We have already, on two or three occasions, in noticing the numbers of the 'Dublin University Magazine,' expressed a highly favorable opinion of 'Harry Lorrequer;' and our readers will especially remember a taste of the author's quality which we afforded them, not long since, in the amusing sketch descriptive of purchasing a rollicking Hibernian out of Purgatory. Next to 'Boz,' we know of no writer more racy and entertaining than the author of 'Harry Lorrequer and Charles O'Malley, the Irish Dragoon, the latter of which, we are glad to observe, the publishers of the volume before us have already in press.

* Notices of several late works, although in type, including Parry's Voyages, * Florence Dalbiac,' etc., and of many new contributions, are unavoidably omitted.


A Gossip with Readers and Correspondents. - The 'Army and Navy Magazine,' in the course of some gratifying comments upon the September number of the Knickerbocker, and especially of the revolutionary paper entitled' The Robinson House,' observes : * Familiar as are the main features of the Arnold plot to American readers, every new dress in which it appears, displays some additional incident, gathered from tradition or contemporary actors. The patriotism and love of virtue so inherent in the American people, have long since stamped the memory of the traitor with detestation, while that of his chivalrous victim is always viewed with sympathetic regret.' From many communications to which the article in question has given rise, we select the subjoined ' Sequel to the Robinson House,'' from the pen of an infrequent contributor, once made illustrious by Galt, our old friend. Laurie Todd :' Mr. Editor: In your number for September, is a very interesting, beautiful, and correct history of the capture of Major Andre. Permit me to add my mite to that history. I think it was in the month of September, 1800, that I made one of a company that was following the corpse of a friend departed, to the house appointed for all living. It was at Tarrytown; and on our way to the grave, we paused on the spot where Andre was first hailed and stopped. My companion in the line informed me of the fact, and added, " Isaac Van Wart, one of his captors, is now in our company. At the conclusion of the funeral service, I was introduced to Mr. Van Wart; and on our way back, I desired him to lead me to the spot among the trees and brush-wood, at that time unal. tered, where the search and important discovery were made. He very kindly complied ; and while I pressed the ground where stood the feet of Andre, he related the story as your correspondent has done, with this small addition, viz : that when Andre found he was discovered, and a prisoner, be offered successively his gold watch and a purse of gold for bis liberty. This being refused, he tendered an order on the British commissary in New York for any amount in goods and money which his captors might name ;' and for security of the payment,' he added, “let one of you go to New-York and receive the sum. I will remain here a hostage with the other two, until your comrade returns. If the contract is not fulalled, I am still your prisoner.' Here I interrupted Mr. Van Wart. I said : 'Sir, you were three poor young men : it was a great temptation. Did none of you hesitate?' 'Not one !' he answered : ' each stood firm, as appeared in the sequel.' Now, Mr. Knickerbocker, in the days of Rome, an action like this would have been blazoned to posterity in letters of gold ; it would have lived on the canvass of the painter, and in the marble of the sculptor. But poor was the reward, and small the thanks, which these brave and patriotic men received from their country. Four or five winters ago, if my memory serves me, an application was made to Congress from one of the surviving captors of Andre, for some sort of compensation. My impression is that it was refused. Certain I am, it was warmly opposed, and especially by a member from our own state. They were branded as 'cow-thieves,' etc. Perhaps they were cow-thieves ; but at that period, the most honorable men, both whigs and tories, living between the lines, were cow-thieves. The British soldiers and American tories stole cows from the whigs : the whigs had no remedy but to steal them back again. It is very probable that the British and tories had driven off the whole stock belonging to the widowed mothers of these boys ; for if fame speaks true, neither of the three were of age ; and according to the usages of war, they were justified in a recapture. It is evident they were not thieves for gain ; else would they have taken the price which Andre offered for his ransom, which was more than would have sufficed to purchase the whole stock of cows, sheep, and oxen, which belonged to Job, when he resided in the land of Uz. In my humble opinion, Mr. Editor, (in which, as a native Knickerbocker, I am sure you will join,) every New. Yorker should be proud that he was born in the state which produced three such men ; and the fact of their being boys, and poor boys, adds very much to the glory of the act. Had this deed been done by a Van Cortlandı, a Phillips, a Van Rensselaer, or any three of the “ lords of the manor' on the Hudson river, the act would have been engraven on the rocks with the point of a diamond. But was done by three cow-berd-boys : and there is not a stone to mark the spot where this impors tant event took place. In 1821, when the remains of Major Andre were placed on board the British sloop of war which had been sent to convey them to England, and while she lay in the North River awaiting a wind, I had an ardent desire to handle the skull that had once contained such mighty projects. I obtained an order from the British Consul, and repaired on board, taking with me a handsome myrtle plant, which I placed on the lid of the sarcophagus. This plant was carried to London in good condition, and many of the 'grandees' obtained cuttings from it, which grew and multiplied under the name of Andre's Myrtle.' When I was in London In 1833, 1 saw several of these myrtles. I remember that when I held Andre's skull in my hand, I observed that the root of a cedar tree had struck through the bone of the right side, and came out at the left, where it remained.' ... Our anti-matrimonial correspondent has punctured a hornet's nest ; and like a pot-valiant hero, will doubtless retreat under cover of the Knickerbocker, leaving us to bear the brunt of the battle he has provoked. He is doubtless incorrigible,' as he affirms. He reminds us of a fellow. bachelor who was once in a quapdary whether to marry or keep a horse,' and who on being informed that an acquain. tance, who was no favorite of his, had just been married, exclaimed with sudden vehemence : 'Well, I am glad of it ! And yet," he added, in a self-reproachful, hall.commiserating tone, 'I do n't know that I ought to any so, either: he never injured me!' But with all his bachelor views, there is much truthful satire in our correspondent's comments upon the education which obtains u mong us for wives and mothers. Many a wife'sings, plays, and dances well,' works lace, and makes whole litters of worsted dogs and cals, with green heads, yellow eyes, and vermillion tails, who has not a particle of really valuable domestic information. Ladies, who are to be wives and mothers, think on these things !' obliged to our Boston correspondent for his kind encomiums, as well as for his sketch of, and indignant comments upon, a recent attack on a respectable and unoffending editor by a vulgar and brutal person connected with an inferior theatrical establishment in that city. But · F.'s' strictures are not needed. The public contempt, and the punishment that awaits him, will be to the culprit a sufficient retribution. If, as is hinted, the argumentum baculinum prevails to a great extent in our sister city, we would advise our contemporaries of the press to imitate the London journalist, who kept a hired Her. culean bruiser to mill the refractory into subjection. When an offended party called to obtain redress for an alleged editotorial grievance, be was shown up to the fighting editor's apartment, the ornaments of which were strongly expressive of puguacity. Along the wall a thick bludgeon lay borizontally, supported by two brass hooks. Above this, and parallel, was placed one of lesser dimensions, until a pyramid of weapons arose, gradually tapering to a horse-whip! ... The History of Drusilla Darracott,' in preceding pages, we are assured by the author' is a true story, and no mistake.' 'I knew the parties well,' he writes, 'whose fates I have recorded; and the first-born of their ill-sorted union was one of my early play-mates.' What punishrcent too severe, could be visited upon the head of one who, for amusement, could trifle with the affections of a young and innocent female ; who could aim to win a heart for the express purpose of breaking it;

We are

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