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The Rev. Ralph Hoyt is not an original poet. He writes well, but not well enough to acquire a place among the first-class writers of the age. He is merely imitative. But if he rank not as a genius, he can elaim and keep his position as one of the best and ablest of our clergymen, and we question whether any Christian can be emulative of any stand more exalted. The other world is of more consequence than this. The high minded and conscientious clergyman |

is certain of joy in that, while the impious genius must look for all his happiness here!

A new church is building for Rev. Ralph Hoyt on East Broadway, to which he will shortly remove with those over whose spiritual welfare he keeps so effectual a guard. May the new church prosper, and may the harvest reaped within its walls be as abundant as the labours of the divine husbandman will be industrious and sincerely performed.

REV. J. K. INGALLS.

with freedom and cordiality with their fellow creatures, makes them morose and melancholy, and converts the world, for all intents and purposes, into nothing else but a great monastery. The faculties of soul and body, men conceive, that God created for the wisest and best purposes, and that religion was never designed only for a contradiction to nature. On the other hand, He would persuade men to re

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are, and not by depriving them of any rational pleasure or enjoyment. Religion encroaches upon none of our privileges, and if we are put down by others as being singular in any thing that is wise, worthy or excellent, is no disparagement, but a praise. Our duties are discovered to us by a secret impression, or natural instinct, which God has given us for a wise and holy purpose. "He hath shown us what is good by the general vote and consent of mankind. Not that all mankind do agree concerning virtue and vice but, that as to the greater duties of piety, justice, mercy, and the like, the exceptions are but few in comparison, and not enough to infringe a general conduct. If we consult the history of all ages, we shall find that the things which are generally praised in the lives of men, and recommended to the imitation of posterity, are piety and devotion, gratitude and justice, humanity and charity; and that the contrary to these are marked with ignominy and reproach; the former are commended even in enemies, and the latter are branded even by those who had a kindness for the persons that were guilty of them; so constant hath mankind been in the commendation of virtue, and the censure of vice. Nay, we find not only those who are virtuous themselves giving their testimony and applause to virtue, but even those who are vicious; not out of love to goodness, but from the conviction of their own minds, and from a secret reverence they bear to the common consent and opinion of mankind. And this is a great testimony, because it is the testimony of an enemy, extorted by the mere light and force of truth."

The subject of this sketch was born in Swansy, Mass., July 21st, 1816. Like a good many others, he did not come among us with a " silver spoon" in his mouth, and at the early age of ten years, we believe, he left the parental roof to commence his struggle with the world. For sometime he was without regular employment, thrown among vicious and evil companions, and exposed to all the misery and hardship of "outrageous fortune." But he did not com-ligion, by exhibiting the two pictures as they really plain at his hard lot as some do, and sit down and fold their arms till "better times" come along and overtakes them; he did not murmer or utter a syllable of dissatisfaction, but worked on, toiled on, hoped on, until at last his prospects brightened, and he was able to overmaster many of the inconveniences and difficulties to which he was subjected. He was employed at the tin and sheet iron business, and although his wages were small, he managed to clothe himself comfortably and respectably, and likewise saved an amount sufficient from his hard earnings to purchase a number of useful books, which during his leisure hours he read with care and eagerness. He early acquired a taste for the study of grave and important subjects, and by intense application, and the most untiring perseverence, he prepared himself for the responsible office of the Christian ministry. He entered upon the solemn duties of his calling in the year 1838. Many will unquestionably wonder by what means he rose from a poor, friendless, obscure 'prentice boy, to the position in which we now find him. We will tell them by what magic he accomplished the object of his ambition-" PERSEVERANCE" was his motto, the bright star of his dawning hopes which led him on to success. No matter how dark it appeared in the far off future, no matter how difficult the task, he tried his best; if unsuccessful he tried again, always patient, and never relaxing in his faith until at least something was achieved worthy of the struggle. He never GAMBLED. That monster vice which is hurrying so many of the present day on to ruin and degradation, cannot be laid at his door. He was surrounded by temptation, but when sorely urged and pressed to do wrong by his young and thoughtless associates, he found a power in himself which astonished them and prevented him from falling into the snare prepared by the artful and vicious. He avoided the RUM PALACE as he would the pestilence, for his position in life was such that he early saw the evil consequences which resulted from the two free use of ardent spirits. The wine cup, though encircled with glittering gems, had no attraction. And in shunning those vices he exhibited the wisdom of his mind in its truest light, for that is really true wisdom which most conduces to the happiness of life.

Religion, it has often been said, is an enemy to men's pleasures. It prevents them from associating

Since the commencement of Mr. Ingalls' ministry, he has, by his studious habits and his earnest practical efforts in the cause of political and social reform, been extending his acquaintance, and increasing his influence, until he is now a prominent leader of the Association of National Reformers, and the Editor and Publisher of a Journal entitled the LANDMARK.

In person, Mr. Ingalls is rather below the ordinary stature-light complexion-has a fine oratone voice, and when his spirit is moved, speaks with energy and power. He combines strength of intellect, with a most amiable disposition, agreeable manners, and conciliating address, and needs only to be known to be respected and beloved.

THE AMERICAN DRAMATIC FUND.

BY B. BLANQUE.

[ORIGINAL.]

FROM time immemorial there has been wasted an [politan Theatre of any size employs from forty to one immense quantity of virtuous indignation upon the hundred persons of both sexes in the various departimmoralities of the stage. Stern old moralists, im-ments of stage business. Most of these operatives bued with the bitter, puritanical spirit which was pre-revel in gilded luxury by night, and succumb to naked dominant in the prim Roundhead of Cromwell's day, poverty through the day.

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in the most forlorn aspect. Improvident to a degree highly culpable, in many cases the meridian of life is foolishly neglected, and when old age comes creeping on a pace the poor and impoverished actor is glad to retire to some secluded garret and render up his spirit "to him who gave it birth." Perhaps the pangs of hunger or the agonizing throes of bodily torture may provoke a wit, that while looking in the beams of popular favour, an anticipation of suffering might have taught him the necessity of "laying up treasure" even on earth. But alas! too late their bitter retrospecting! The victim of his own criminal careless

have with a bitterness in too many cases unbecoming Performing prodigies of valour in the face of contheir cloth assailed not only the Professors but the cealed enemies, and capturing masked batteries of Profession itself. Argus-eyed intolerance has essay-imagined grape beneath the very walls of a canvass ed to usurp the place of philanthropy and with a stern castle, they can hardly by day-light summon sufficien* hand drive from the world all vestiges of dramatic fortitude to boldly face an indignant landlord loudl literature. The effect of all this has been a partial demanding his rent. Like the Tyrolean, "brave, hardy decline of the drama-in respectability we mean- and independent" in the glare of a gas-light, the and a deterioration of its nobler qualities. The very brightness of the mid-day sun too often dissolves their men who should have upheld, supported and encour-magnificence, and discloses the stern realities of life aged the better devolpment of dramatic associations, were suddenly stricken with a pious determination to give it a bad name" and mercifully leave it to its fate. The sentiments of the immortal Bard of Avon -the workings of a mind unquestionably superior in great ennobling thought and all-powerful genius to any the world has ever produced-were, by the soidistant moralists, pronounced unfit for perusal by youthful minds, which required a more solid foundation upon which to build a character and name. The low ribald jests and scurrilous inuendoes with which the flashy melo-dramas of low theatres abound, were by these critical Solons compared with the intellec-ness descends to the grave "unannointed and unantual flashes so redolent in the plays of the great master of the human heart. Forgetting that in the Elizabethan era a broad allusion was the fashionable substitute for a delicate double-entendre, and a vulgar epithet more loudly applauded than a flash of genuine wit, they unconsciously assume that Shakspeare, who wrote for eternity and will live when they are forgotten, should have foreseen the abandonment of a vitiated taste in a future generation, and thus avoided the rock upon which they plainly see him split.

It is useless to deny the demoralizing effects of certain stage representations upon the youthful mind. Pandering, as too many of our modern plays do, to a depraved taste, and losing sight of sense, reason and wit, in an undue straining after effect, we cannot underrate such a result. Our plays should be subjected to a censorial moralist capable of separating the wheat from the chaff, and discarding the faults of matter as well as style. Were that plan adopted, many a blush might be spared the cheek of beauty which is now too often invoked by the carelessness or sacrifice of duty to display, exhibited by many of our modern dramatists.

nealed," while his brethren actors weep o'er his tomb and return to the same scenes his latter hours so vividly recalled.

For many years past some of the most respectable members of the Theatrical profession have at different times endeavoured to establish a permanent fund for the relief of indigent and superannuated members and widows, endowed with the elements of tactibility and sheltered by the strong arm of legal corporation. We believe that elections have even been made, and names of members enrolled on the list as supporters of the measure, but failing to secure the countenance of the Legislature, their plans have invariably fell through. During the past winter a preparatory meeting was called by a few members of the profession, who saw the immediate necessity of action in the premises, and the result was an appeal to all members, without destinction as to age or sex, to come forward, and by their personal support of a plan so conducive to the interest of the whole to put the ball in motion.

To the credit of the profession in New York, let it be said that the call was responded to almost unaniBut we have unconsciously been advocating the mously, and a series of rules and regulations were cause of the Drama, when in fact its followers would drawn up nearly embodying the principles which first claim our attention. The theme of Dramatic control the English" General Theatrical Fund As Literature is one of too much importance to be treat-sociation." The next thing to be done, and in fact, ed of in a single article, and till another not far distant time, we defer a rigid examination of the acting Drama as a necessary evil.

the most important connected with the movement, was to secure the act of incorporation provided by law, to individualize a company or board of directors. To any one at all conversant with Dramatic mat- Mr. William M. Fleming, a young actor of great ters, it is unnecessary to explain that every Metro-promise, who has worked his way to the head of the

profession within a few years, was deputed by the Association to proceed to Albany and petition the Legislature to that effect. Accordingly Mr. Fleming proceeded there, and after spending some days in endeavouring to secure the interest of the members towards the bill, was compelled to return without accomplishing his object. The bill was defeated through the pertinacity of the country members, who could see nothing of good emanating even from a benevolent society, whose basis was the forbidden Drama. Far from being discouraged, Mr. Fleming again assumed the championship of the cause, and after considerable delay, during which various members were fortunately conciliated and inclined to a support of the measure-the bill passed the Legislature and became a law. Nothing now remained but to choose the officers of the Association, and proceed to the completion of the good work; after several meetings by the members of the profession generally, Edwin Forest, the eminent Tragedian, was chosen President of the Association, and Prescott Hall, T. Stebbins, Thomas S. Hamblin, John McKeon, and William P. Chapman were elected Trustees. Four of the latter were selected from off the stage, Thomas S. Hamlin, the manager of the Bowery Theatre, being the only professional member. A Board of Directors, all actors of acknowledged eminence, was then chosen, and the American Dramatic Fund Association was as much a thing of life as corporate bodies well can be.

It is unnecessary to particularize the individual

items of the rules and regulations, as many are merely relative to the local business connected with the stage. They provide for the various contingencies of sickness, misfortune, and incapacity in such manner that no member being a subscriber can possibly suffer from the evil effects of either.

This system is founded upon the admirable ones of Life and Health Insurances: a small stipend paid quarterly entitles each member to the privileges and benefits of the institution when called for. More especially is it calculated for the direct benefit of widowed actresses, whose necessities are oftener displayed in real life, than in the ficticious characters they assume. As such it must prove invaluable.

No persons are eligible to the office of annuitants, save members of some one of our American Theatres.

This is as it should be; a Dramatic Fund should be as exclusive in its dispensation of favours as any of our charitable Mechanics' Associations established for a particular class of workingmen.

We trust the "Dramatic Fund Association" will live and prosper despite the inuendoes of the opponents of the ennobling Drama. From present appearances, and the well known and able men to whom its management is entrusted, we are confident of its success. Let our merchants and business men, who are desirous of aiding and enriching a society whose foundation is true benevolence, and only object the relief of the aged and destitute, respond to the wants of the embryo fund with a generous contribution.

THOUGHTS IN THE SUMMER WOODS.

Sunlight around me dances-shadows creep

Across my sight, and vanish-Balmy airs and down around me.

BY MOTLEY MANNERS.

Gentle flowers,

Float up
Green, waving trees, and golden-plumaged birds-
Painted and fanciful butterflies, and bees,
Buzzing and cricling round-all summer life-

All that can make the forest beautiful;

All that may tell of joy, is round me now.

There is a little brooklet at my feet,

Purling and whispering, as if its breast

Laboured with some huge secret, which it fain

Would breathe to me. And there, beneath the bank,

All green and mossy-where the willows bend

In beautiful festoons-within that nook,

The silver-pinioned troutling glideth slow.

Yonder, upon a fallen and mossy oak,
That once in majesty o'ertopped the scene,
Creepeth a lazy caterpillar, with a dull

And measured listlessness. Perchance, as now,
With slow, monotonous march he crawleth on,
He dreameth with a trusting hopefulness,
Of light and beauty in his chrysalis birth-
And so plods perseveringly along,

Sustained and strengthened. May I learn from him,
To bear this caterpillar load of life,

Until from heaven shall fall my spirit wings!

[ORIGINAL.]

Hark, from the wood-depths!-'tis the quick, sharp crack
Of some rude sportsman's deadly fowling-piece!
How the poor birds are fluttering-hushed are now
Their pleasant melodies-and from the top
Of yonder feathery pine tree, pouting falls

The death-struck songster. See his eye

Droops with the film of death, and painfully
Throbs his poor innocent heart. That soft, blue eye
Is looking up to mine, as if with one

Long, sorrowful glance, it strove to wake my pity.

Poor trembler! thou wert stricken amid the thrill
Of thy pure-hearted minstrelsy. My tongue
Could almost curse the cruel hand that dealt
The inhuman death to thee. Ah, who, with heart
Of flesh could stay thy gushing swell of song,
Or harm a feather of thy beautiful wing?
Yet thou art dying-fainter throbs thy heart;
Thy little feet are stiffening. Yet once more,
Thy glazing eyes look upward to mine own-
Closed are they now forever!

Gentle bird!
What were thy thoughts ?-for in that mute, sad glance,
Love must have spoken. Didst thou note the trees,
The tremulous, waving trees, where haply now
Waiteth thy mate in her lone, desolate nest?
Did the far carol of some sister bird

Fall on thy dying ear, and thrill thy heart
With a new death pang? Well, it matters not,
Thou hast preceded but a little space
Thy mortal murderer! Behind yon hill
The church yard sleeps; beneath its quiet roof
Of melancholy boughs, there many a form
Like his whose deadly skill hath ta'en thy life,
Mingled with mould, lies cold and motionless
As thee, poor bird! Methinks, 'twere meet that thou,
Even in that consecrated ground should rest.
I'll scek a grove that holds some gentle child,
And bury thee upon it!

LAMARTINE.

THE portrait of this eminent statesman, poet and | and Fox were neither of them very experienced men philanthropist, which we here present our readers, is when they began their political career. A mere unicopied from an original French picture, and gives the versity education, the mere ability to read Latin and best idea of the man, of any portrait yet published on Greek, combined with an utter ignorance of all matthis side of the Atlantic To fitly set forth the many ters connected with trade, has hitherto been no obgreat qualities of Alphonse de Lamartine, would re-stacle to the possession of political power, with us; quire more space than an entire magazine would al- though, if ever a nation required in those who conductlow, even though we possessed the requisite ability to do ed its affairs, an accurate acquaintance with the laws justice to the private character and public services of which regulate acquisition and distribution of wealth, this eminent Frenchman. He is a greater man for ours is precisely that nation. The plain American France than Napoleon was, and his memory will be printer, Benjamin Franklin, was more than a match held in higher reverence by coming ages than that for the aristocratic court of St. James'. It is high of the great conqueror. He is a man of great thought, time that the prejudices of birth should be exploded. and great deeds, as well as of great resolves. He It is high time that man's dignity and power be beacts as well as thinks, and speaks as well as he lieved. A nation may be great, its annals may emwrites. It was a fortunate circumstance for France body all noble thoughts, though its statesmen may that she had such a man as Lamartine to lean upon not wear the garter; though it may be profoundly igat a moment when she stood in need of a counsellor norant of blue ribbions; though it may not boast a to direct her. In our May number we gave a brief single lord. If these things be essential to a nation's biography of Lamartine, but his true character can well being, then, but not unless, France is utterly lost. only be read in the history of the last great revolution We must mourn its fate, in sorrow and despair. in France. But the French republic calls up other feelings; it

It has already done much. It has made liberty no longer a purple dream, but a splendid possession. It has called into political existence thirty-five millions of men, most of whom, a few weeks since, were crushed as serfs by despotic power. It has undone the evils of the holy alliance. It has annihilated for ever the cold, heartless, unsleeping policy of such statesmen as Metternich. It has sounded throughout Europe the death knell of the tyrant, whether he be petty prince or imperial lord. It has spoken the language of hope to all who have been borne down by political wrong. Across the banks of the Elbe; over the vineyards of the Rhine; along the fair fields of the sunny south; amongst the hills and dales of Switzerland,-have floated its glad tidings of peace and joy. It has taught man to stand erect; to come forth from his house of bondage, to burst his fetters, and be free. Political boons that have long been sought and indignantly withheld; that men have grown grey-haired waiting for, and despaired of seeing; whose advocates have lingered out years of wretchedness in dungeons or in exile,-have been conceded at once. The foolish lover of Lola Montes has turned over a new leaf, and has appeared in the character of a patriot king. The rulers of Wirtemberg, Hesse Cassel, Saxony, Hesse Darmstadt, Nassau, Weimar, have fast followed in his steps. Hanover has done the same. The king of Prussia has not only as usual promised, but has promised to perform. Even the house of Napsburg has been compelled to bend before the coming storm. Germany is to be at last confederate and free. The resurrection of Poland

It is one of the strongest proofs of the real great-awakens anticipations far more glorious and bright. ness of Lamartine, that surrounded as he has been by some of the first men of the age, the philosophers and statesmen of France, he has towered up above them all, and was spontaneously placed at their head. To the power held by unworthy means of Louis Philippe and his hireling tools, have succeeded some of the noblest children France can boast. Many of them are men Europe had long learned to respect. Dupont (de l'Eure), the President of the Council, in a life already extended to upwards of eighty years, has long been connected with political affairs; in 1811, he was President of the Court of Rouen; in 1813, he was President of the Corps Legislatif; in 1816 he proposed the famous declaration in which the rights of citizens were preserved; and, in 1830, he was appointed Minister of Justice. Lamartine, Minister for Foreign Affairs, had been but little known as a politician, because his lustre as a poet and writer obscured the less brilliant, but equally important part, he has long filled in the political affairs of his native land. More than thirty years ago he became deputy for Macon, and was long a diplomatist in the service of Charles X. Arago, the most illustrious name in science belonging to France at present, has long passed the age when enthusiasm gets the better of discretion. Cremieux, the Minister of Justice; Marie, Minister of Public Works; Ledru Rollin, Minister of the Interior; Bethmont, Minister of Commerce; Carnot, Minister of Public Instruction -are all of them of greater or less repute as advocates. Men in the very flower of manhood, long conversant with public matters, cannot be quite so visionary and inexperienced as some writers in Eng-from the grave is an idea already instinct with life. land would lead us to conclude. At any rate, taunts from us, and we grieve to say we have had too many of them both in newspapers and in parliament, on this head come with but indifferent grace. Bacon was not the less able chancellor because he had mastered all learning, human and divine. Addison and Bolingbroke, Burke and Sheridan, would not have been better politicians had they been worse writers. Pitt

Events that have hitherto been slowly realised, by the
united efforts of generations have followed each other
quick as the lightning's flash. The chains that ages
have rivetted are at once and for ever burst. Every-
where there is food for thankfulness and joy. That
France is in a critical state, we admit.
The earnest
men who preside over its affairs have tremendous
difficulties in their path. Government profligacy has

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left the treasuary in a bankrupt state. Men, false to the cause of the Revolution, will plot to defeat the elections of next month. The social changes aimed at are such as no other government has endeavoured to effect. It may be, the members of the provisional government are unequal to the task; it may be, they may give it up in despair; it may be, that demagogues may pander to the passions of a people long deprived of political rights, and may triumph for an hour; but yet the three days of February will not have been in vain. Not in vain will have been the bravery of the living, or the heroism of the dead. The struggle were rich in precious fruit, if it but gave fresh spirit to the advocate of right; it were worth the price it cost, if it but filled his bosom with firmer hope and more enduring zeal. The poet's language can never be too often embodied before the world in deeds :

"There's a fount about to stream,

There's a light about to beam,

There's a wramth about to glow,

There's a flower about to blow,

There's a midnight blackness changing into grey:
Men of might and men of action, clear the way!"

In this time of change; of fear and trembling to the advocates of worn-out institutions and ideas, but of exultation to those who have faith in man; when old kingdoms are tottering to their fall; when justice is being dealt out to the wronger and the wronged; when the degradation of ages is being swept away; when all Europe is heaving with the throes and agony of a most momentous birth,-England's duty can clearly be perceived. It becomes us to look on France with a loving eye, and to hold out to her a helping hand. It becomes us to show that we rejoice in her freedom, and from our hearts wish her success.

It becomes us to show that we repent of the wrong we did her when we collected our bannered hosts; when we let loose through Europe the hell-hounds of war; when we seated on the throne a dynasty she had righteously expelled. We are wiser now. The English nation has risen up in its greatness and its strength. Our gold is now no longer lavished on every petty German prince; our statesmen are now no longer the tools of Metternich. We even question whether a home secretary will again act the part of an Austrian spy. No one, at present, either in the House of Commons or Lords, has had the hardihood to propose a war for the purpose of restoring to his lost estate the exiled king. We are not even aware that the Iron Duke has hinted the propriety of such a step: from no mysterious letter, at present, has such a purpose oozed out. Our sympathy must go forth to France. The people are averse to war. They know it to be generally wicked and insane.

"To be a strife, however just,

Has no attraction to our mind; And as for nations fond of war, We think them pests of human kind. Still, if here must be rivalry

Betwixt us and the French, why then, Let earth look on us while we show Which of the two are better men.

"We'll try the rivalry of arts,

Of science, learning, freedom, fame; We'll try who first shall light the world With charity's divinest flame :Who best shall elevate the poor, And teach the wealthy to be true. We want no rivalry of arms: We make no boast of Waterloo."

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