sively circulated as any of its predecessors; for in it we find a full and satisfactory account of the life of one whose name has long been first upon the roll of fame. The claims of other men are open to dispute. The soldier may hesitate between Cæsar and Napoleon, while the votary of literature deems it sacrilege to name either in a breath with Milton, Locke, or Shakspeare, but he too would hesitate to which of that glorious band he should yield the preference. Mention the name of Newton, and each at once acknowledges his preeminence and bows the head in reverence of his genius. He is one whom all agree to venerate, for the benefits he has conferred upon his race, are so unmixed with aught of a countervailing tendency, that all must unite in regarding him as a benefactor.

In the present volume we trace this illustrious character from the cradle to the grave. We find him in early boyhood evincing his taste for practical mechanics in the construction of ingenious toys; and in his windmills, his sundials, his locomotive carriages and water clocks, we perceive the dawning of that restless and inquiring mind, which afterwards discovered and investigated the mechanical laws that regulate the motions of the universe. We see him in youth advancing step by step, in the laborious acquisition of knowledge, and laying stone on stone, the sure foundation of his future usefulness, till in his twenty-seventh year we find him in the mathematical chair of the university. We have an able ac count of his theory of colors and of his successive discoveries in optics and the properties of light, drawn up by Dr. Brewster, himself one of the most learned philosophers in Europe and especially conversant with this department of science; we are also presented with an abstract of his astronomical discoveries, together with a sketch of the history of astronomy previous to his time, including the immortal labors of COPERNICUS, TYCHo Brahe, Kepler and GALILEO.

We now come to the glorious discovery of the law of gravity and the cause of the planetary motions; and here we will use the words of his eloquent biographer. "In the progress of the calcu lation, he saw that the result which he had formerly expected was likely to be produced, and he was thrown into such a state of nervous irritability that he was unable to carry on the calculation.* In this state of mind he entrusted it to one of his friends; and he had the high satisfaction of finding his former views amply realized. The influence of such a result upon such a mind may be more easily conceived than described. The whole material universe was spread out before him; the Sun with all his attendant planets; the planets with all their satellites; the comets wheeling in every direction in their eccentric orbits; and the systems of the fixed stars stretching to the remotest limits of space: all the varied and complicated movements of the heavens, in short, must have been presented to his mind, as the necessary result of the law which he had established." We will conclude this notice with one more extract from the work before us. "If the conduct and opinions of men of ordinary talent are recorded for our instruction,

* See the Monthly Repository, vol. 2, page 226.

how interesting must it be to follow the most exalted genius through the incidents of cominon life; to mark the steps by which he attained his lofty preeminence; to see how he performs the functions of the social and the domestic compact; how he exercises his lofty powers of invention and discovery; how he comforts himself in the arena of intellectual strife; and in what sentiments and with what aspirations he quits the world he has adorned.

In almost all these bearings, the life and writings of Sir Isaac Newton abound with the richest counsels. Here the philosopher will learn the art by which alone he can acquire an immortal name. The moralist will trace the lineaments of a character adjusted to all the symmetry of which our imperfect nature is susceptible; and the CHRISTIAN will contemplate with delight, the high priest of science, quitting the study of the material universe, the scene of his intellectual triumphs, to investigate with humility and patience, the mysteries of his faith."

POETRY & MUSIC.

Written for the Monthly Repository and Library of Entertaining Knowledge, BY MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

"MOURN FOR THE LIVING, AND NOT FOR THE DEAD."

I saw an infant, marble cold
Borne from the pillowing breast,
And in the shroud's embracing fold
Laid down to dreamless rest;
And mov'd with bitterness I sigh'd,
Not for the babe that slept,
But for the mother at its side,
Whose soul in anguish wept.

They bare a coffin to its place,

I ask'd them, who was there?
And they replied "a form of grace,
The fairest of the fair."

But for that blest one do ye moan
Whose angel-wing is spread?
No! for the lover pale and lone,
His heart is with the dead.

I wander'd to a new made grave,
And there a matron lay,

The love of Him who died to save
Had been her spirit's stay,
Yet sobs burst forth of grieving pain,
Wail ye for her who died?
No! for that timid, infant train
Who roam without a guide.

I murmur not for those who die,
Who rise to glory's sphere,
I deem the tenants of the sky,
Need not our mortal tear,

Hebrew Dirge.

Our wo seems arrogant and vain,

Doth it not move their scorn?
Like the poor slave beneath his chain
Pitying the princely born.

We live to meet a thousand foes,
We shrink with bleeding breast,
Why should we weakly mourn for those
Who dwell in perfect rest?
Bound for a few, sad, fleeting years
A thorn-clad path to tread,

Oh! for the living, spare those tears
You lavish o'er the dead.

Hartford, Feb. 21, 1832.

TIME'S SONG.-BY MRS. HEMANS.

O'er the level plain where mountains
Greet me as I go,

O'er the desert waste where fountains
At my bidding flow,

On the boundless beam by day,

On the cloud by night,

I am rushing hence away!
Who will chain my flight?

War his weary watch was keeping;
I have crush'd his spear;
Grief within her bower weeping;
I have dried her tear;

Pleasure caught a minute's hold-
Then I hurried by,
Leaving all her banquet cold,
And her goblet dry.

Power had won a throne of glory

Where is now his fame?
Genius said, "I live in story,"
Who hath heard his fame?
Love beneath a myrtle bough,
Whisper'd-"Why so fast?"
And the roses on his brow
Withered as I pass'd.

I have heard the heifer lowing
O'er the wild wave's bed.
I have seen the billow flowing
Where the cattle fed;
Where began my wanderings?
Memory will not say;

Where will rest my weary wings?
Science turns away.

THE USE OF TEARS.

Be not thy tears too harshly chid,
Repine not at the rising sigh;
Who, if they might, would always bid
The breast be still, the cheek be dry?

How little of ourselves we know

Before a grief the heart has felt;
The lesson that we learn of wo

May brace the mind as well as melt.

The energies too stern for mirth,

The reach of thought, the strength of will,
'Mid cloud and tempest have their birth,
Through blight and blast their course fulfil.

Love's perfect triumph never crown'd
The hope unchequered by a pang;
The gaudiest wreath with thorns are bound,
And Sappho wept before she sang.

Tears at each pure emotion flow-
They wait on Pity's gentle claim,
On Admiration's fervid glow,—
On Piety's seraphic flame.

"Tis only when it mourns and fears
The loaded spirit feels forgiven;

And through the mist of falling tears

We catch the clearest glimpse of Heaven.

THE DISEMBODIED SPIRIT.

FROM THE SPANISH OF HERNANDO DE HERREBA.

Pure spirit! that within a form of clay,

Once veiled the brightness of thy native sky; In dreamless slumber sealed thy burning eye, Nor heavenward sought to wing thy flight away! He, that chastised thee, did at length unclose Thy prison doors, and gave thee sweet releaseUnloos'd the mortal coil, eternal peace

Received thee to its stillness and repose.
Look down once more from thy celestial dwelling
Help me to rise and be immortal there,-
An earthly vapor melting into air-

For my whole soul, with secret ardor swelling,
From earth's dark mansion struggles to be free,
And longs to soar away, and be at rest with Thee.

(Published by request.)

MUHLENBERG. 11s.

P. K. Moran

C# 3

would not live alway: I ask not to stay Where storm after

here, Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer.

I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY.

I would not live alway: I ask not to stay,
Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way;
The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here,
Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer
I would not live alway, thus fetter'd by sin
Temptation without, and corruption within;
E'en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears,
And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears.

I would not live alway; no-welcome the tomb,
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom:
There, sweet be my rest, till he bid me arise
To hail him in triumph descending the skies.

Who, who would live alway, away from his God;
Away from you heaven, that blissful abode,

Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains,
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns:

Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet,
Their Saviour and brethren, transported to greet;
While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll,
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul!