Less than a God they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell, That spoke so sweetly and so well What passion cannot Music raise and quell! III. The trumpet's loud clangor Excites us to arms, With shrill notes of anger And mortal alarms. The double, double, double beat Cries, "Hark! the foes come; IV. The soft complaining flute In dying notes discovers The woes of hopeless lovers Whose dirge is whispered by the warbling iute. V. Sharp violins proclaim Their jealous pangs, and desperation, Depth of pains, and height of passion, But oh! what art can teach, The sacred organ's praise? Notes inspiring holy love, VI. Orpheus could lead the savage race; But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher: VII. As from the power of sacred lays So, when the last and dreadful hour Dryden's dramatic pieces number about thirty -tragedies, comedies, tragi-comedies and operas. The earliest was The Wild Gallant, a comedy (1662), the latest, Love Triumphant, a tragi-comedy (1694). The larger, and by far the best part of his prose writings are of a critical character. ON SHAKESPEARE. Shakespeare was the man who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul. All the images of nature were still present to him, and he drew them not laboriously, but luckily; when he describes anything, you more than see it, you feel it, too. Those who accuse him to have wanted learning, give him the greater commendation. He was naturally learned; he needed not the spectacles of books to read nature; he looked inwards, and found her there. I cannot say he is everywhere alike; were he so, I should do him injury to compare him with the greatest of mankind. He is many times flat, insipid-his comic wit degenerating into clenches, his serious swelling into bombast. But he is always great when some great occasion is presented to him; no man can say he ever had a fit subject for his wit, and did not then raise himself as high above the rest of poets, "Quantum lenta solent inter viburna cupressi." The consideration of this made Mr. Hales of Eton say that there was no subject of which any poet ever writ but he would produce it much better done in Shakespeare ; and however others are now generally preferred before him, yet the age wherein he lived, which had contemporaries with him, Fletcher and Johnson, never equalled them to him in their esteem; and in the last king's court, when Ben's reputation was at its highest, Sir John Suckling, and with him the greater part of the courtiers, set our Shakespeare far above him.—Essay on Dramatic Poesy. Dryden's death was somewhat sudden. Early in the Spring of 1700 he had a severe attack of the gout; one toe became much inflamed, and not being properly attended to, mortification set in. The surgeon advised an amputation, but Dryden objected on the ground of his advanced age, and the inutility of prolonging a maimed existence. The mortification spread, and it was clear that either the whole leg must be amputated, with a strong probability of a fatal result, or that speedy death was inevitable. On the last day of April the Postboy announced that "John Dryden, Esq., the famous poet, lies a-dying;" and he died at three o'clock on the next morning. The body was embalmed, and lay in state for several days at the College of Physicians and Surgeons. The pompous public funeral took place in Westminster Abbey on May 13th, the body was interred in the Poets' Corner, by the side of the graves of Chaucer and Cowley. It was not until twenty years afterward that a modest monument was put up at the expense of Lord Mulgrave, afterward Earl of Buckinghamshire. His wife survived him fourteen years, and died insane. The last of their three sons died in 1711. DU CHAILLU, PAUL BELLONI, a FrancoAmerican explorer, born at Paris, July 31, 1835. His father had established himself as a trader on the West Coast of Africa, where Paul joined him at an early age. In 1852 he came to the United States, with a large cargo of ebony, and published several papers relating to the Gaboon country. In 1855 he returned to Africa and spent three or four years in exploring the almost unknown region lying about two degrees on each side of the equator. He returned to America in 1859, bringing with him a large collection of curiosities, stuffed birds, and animals, among which were several skins and skeletons of the gorilla, a huge ape. He is probably the first white man who ever saw the animal alive. In 1861 he published an account of these expeditions under the title Explorations and Adventures in Equatorial Africa. The truthfulness of his narrative was sharply questioned by some English savans; and to vindicate himself Du Chaillu went again to Equatorial Africa, and travelled there for two years (1863-65). He returned to America, and in 1867 published A Journey to Ashango-Land, and Further Penetration into Equatorial Africa. During the next twelve years he resided in America, having been naturalized as a citizen of the United States. He delivered lect. ures on his travels and prepared several small books, in which many of his experiences are re lated for juvenile readers: Stories of the GorillaCountry (1868); Wild Life under the Equator (1869); Lost in the Jungle (1869); My Apingi Kingdom (1870); The Country of the Dwarfs (1871). Subsequently he made several Winter and Summer tours in Sweden, Norway, Lapland, and Finland, an account of which he published in 1881, in two large volumes, entitled The Land of the Midnight Sun. He has also written The Viking Age (1889), and Ivor the Viking (1893). THE FIRST GORILLA. We started early, and pushed for the most dense and impenetrable part of the forest, in hopes to find the very home of the beast I so much wished to shoot. Hour after hour we travelled, and yet no signs of gorilla; only the everlasting little chattering monkeys-and not many of these-and occasionally birds. Suddenly Miengai uttered a little cluck with his tongue, which is the native's way of showing that something is stirring, and that a sharp lookout is necessary. Presently I noticed, ahead of us seemingly, a noise as if of some one breaking down branches or twigs of trees. This was a gorilla, I knew at once by the eager and satisfied looks of the men. They looked once more carefully at their guns, to see if by any chance the powder had fallen out of the pans, I also examined mine, to make sure that all were right; and then we marched on cautiously. The singular noise of the breaking of tree-branches continued. We walked with the greatest care, making no noise at all. But we pushed on, until finally we saw through the thick woods the moving of the branches and small trees which the great beast was tearing down, probably to get from them the berries and fruits he lives upon. Suddenly, as we were yet creeping along, in a silence which made a heavy breath seem loud and distinct, the VOL. VIII.-29 |