"When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue,
Her bow across her shoulder flung,

Her buskins gemmed with morning dew,
Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung,
The hunter's call, to Fawn and Dryad known;
The oak-crowned sisters, and their chaste-eyed queen,
Satyrs and sylvan boys, were seen

Peeping from forth their alleys green;

Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear,

And Sport leaped up, and seized his beechen spear.”

We cannot avoid mentioning as a peculiarity in Mr. Willis's writings the singular fact that the majority of his illustrations proceed from articles of female clothing. When we read with the intention of noticing this peculiarity the effect is very comical; first one allusion, then another, until at length a roar of laughter follows the experiment, and convinces us we have proved our point.

There is also at times a most inappropriate use of "adjectives," such as these, "porphyry eyes,”—or likening a lady's bosom to a shelf of alabaster." Indeed Mr. Willis would be nothing without his adjectives.

66

Some humorous poet wrote once,

"Without black velvet breeches, what is man?"

A critic might substitute "adjectives" for "velvet smalls," and exclaim in like manner.

It is related of Nollekens, that once when his wife, who was proverbially a passionate woman, was so angry as to stop

in the midst of her vituperation, he cried out during her speechless trance: "If you are short of adjectives, my dear, swear, it will ease you so!"

to carry

The author of "Rural Letters" never allows his deficiency him into the realms of abjuration, but we sometimes involuntarily think of the sculptor's wife when we read his characteristic productions.

In person, Mr. Willis is tall and elegantly made. His manners are courteous, and he has the polish of high-breeding; his hair is light brown; and altogether he leaves the impression of the English gentleman, refined by travel and observation. He is an elaborate dresser, and is estimable in his private relations.

EDGAR ALLAN POE.

As the grave has closed over the poet, we shall give a short biographical sketch of him.

Edgar Poe was the son of David Poe and Elizabeth Arnold. His father was the fourth son of General Poe, a name well known in the Revolutionary War. Some little interest is attached to his memory from the fact of General Lafayette, during his memorable visit to this country, making a pilgrimage to his grave.

Mr. David Poe had three children-Henry, Edgar (the poet), and Rosalie. On the death of their parents Edgar and Rosalie were adopted by a wealthy merchant of the name of Allan. Having no children, Mr. Allan unhesitatingly avowed to all his intention of making Edgar his heir.

In 1816 the subject of this memoir was taken by his adopted parents to England, and after making with them the tour of Scotland, he was left for five years to complete his education at Dr. Bransby's, of Stoke Newington. The curious reader will find a description of this school in one of Poe's sketches called "William Wilson."

Returning to America he went to various academies, and

finally to the University of Virginia, at Charlottesville. The dissolute manners of the Institution infected him, and he was no exception to the general rule. His abilities, notwithstanding, enabled him to maintain a respectable position in the eyes of the Professors. His time here was divided between lectures, debating societies, rambles in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and in making caricatures of his tutors and the heads of the college. We are informed he had the habit of covering the walls of his sleeping-room with these rough charcoal sketches. Rousing himself from this desultory course of life, he took the first honors of the college and returned home.

To escape from the reproaches of his friends, and possibly from the consequences of his thoughtlessness, he formed the design, in conjunction with a friend, of visiting Greece, with the intention of aiding the Revolution then in progress in that classic land. His companion, Ebenezer Burling, abandoned the rash design almost as soon as projected, but the energetic nature of the poet was not so easily turned aside from his path. He proceeded, therefore, as far as St. Petersburg, where he had a narrow escape from the fangs of that brutal government, in consequence of an irregularity in his passport. The exertions of the Consul saved him from the consequences of the error, and through his friendship he returned to America.

Here he found a great change awaiting him. His benefactress, Mrs. Allan, was dead; he reached Richmond the day after her funeral. This was the origin of all his subsequent misfortunes. After an apparent reconciliation with Mr. Allan, he entered West Point Academy, resolved to devote himself to a military life. Here he entered upon his new studies and duties

with characteristic energy, and an honorable career was opened to him; but the Fates willed that Mr. Allan should in his dotage marry a girl young enough to be her husband's granddaughter. The birth of a child convinced Mr. Poe that his hopes to inherit his adopted father's property were at an end, and he consequently left West Point, resolving to proceed to Poland, to join the struggle for liberty then making by that heroic nation against her diabolical oppressors. The fall of Warsaw ended the conflict, and our chivalric poet was again deprived of his intention.

He therefore proceeded to Baltimore, where he learned the death of Mr. Allan. As he had left him nothing, he was now thrown upon the world well nigh resourceless. It is said that this man's widow even refused him his own books.

About this time came the turning point in Mr. Poe's life. Nature had given him a poetical mind; accident now afforded the opportunity for its development.

The Editors of the Baltimore Visitor had offered a premium for the best prose tale, and also one for the best poem. The umpires were men of taste and ability, and, after a careful consideration of the productions, they decided that Mr. Poe was undoubtedly entitled to both prizes. As Mr. Poe was entirely unknown to them, this was a genuine tribute to his superior merit.

The poem he sent was the "Coliseum," and six tales for their selection. Not content with awarding the premiums, they declared that the worst of the six tales referred to was better than the best of the other competitors.

Some little time after this triumph he was engaged by Mr.