dices give way, error hides its head, and the cherished traditions of superstition are ridiculed or forgotten. 'And now, gentlemen, that we may form such a catholic and scientifically-correct estimate of the whole animal creation as will enable us to look upon the pig with an enlightened and unprejudiced eye, let me read you an extract from the celebrated geologist, Mr. Sedgwick, as quoted in the Review I hold in my hand- the London Quarterly for October, 1851: THE elevation of the Fauna of successive periods was not made by transmutation, but by creative additions; and it is by watching these additions that we get some insight into Nature's true historical progress. Judging by our evidence, (and by what else have we any right to judge?) there was a time when Cephalopoda were the highest types of animal life. They were then the Primates of this world, and, corresponding to their office and position, some of them were of noble structure and gigantic size. But these creatures were degraded from their rank at the head of Nature, and Fishes next took the lead: and they did not rise up in Nature in some degenerate form, as if they were but the transmuted progeny of the Cephalopoda, but they started into life in the very highest ichthyic type ever created. Following our history chronologically, Reptiles next took the lead; and (with some almost evanescent exceptions) they flourished during the countless ages of the secondary period as the lords and despots of the world; and they had an organic perfection corresponding to their exalted rank in Nature's kingdom; for their highest orders were not merely great in strength and stature, but were anatomically raised far above any forms of the Reptile class now living in the world. This class was, however, in its turn to lose its rank; what is more, it underwent (when considered collectively) a positive organic degradation before the end of the secondary period - and this took place countless ages before terrestrial mammals of any living type had been called into being. Mammals were added next, (near the commencement of the tertiary period,) and seem to have been added suddenly. Some of the early extinct forms of this class, which we now know only by ransacking the ancient catacombs of Nature, were powerful and gigantic, and we believe they were collectively well-fitted for the place they filled. But they, in their turn, were to be degraded from their place at the head of Nature, and she became what she now is, by the addition of Man. By this last addition she is more exalted than she was before. Man stands by himself, the despotic lord of the living world; not so great in organic strength as many of the despots that went before him in Nature's chronicle, but raised far above them all by a higher development of the brain; by a framework'- -etc. etc. 'Such is the history of creation.'-SEDGWICK: p. 216. etc. Yes, gen-tle-men, such is the history of creation; not handed down to us by vain tradition, but written before language had existence, and traced by royal hands in the solid rock. 'Such are the sermons that science extorts from stones! Man, the present primate and lord of the creation, has taken the throne successively occupied by the cephalopoda, fishes, reptiles, and mammals; and, as Cuvier, I remember, holds, is in his turn to yield the sceptre to some yet uncreated class. There are a thousand curious questions that present themselves upon the reception of these great truths. Perhaps the most serious and affecting are: What kind of creatures shall succeed us in our reign? At about what period will they make their appearance? Will they look upon their fallen predecessors with compassion, and treat them with kindness? Will they understand our spoken language and read our books, or will our words be to them as brutish sounds, our alphabet but hieroglyphics? Will they be carnivorous; and if so, will the creatures they immediately succeed be pleasant to their taste? 'But without turning aside to pursue these and other interesting inquiries, let us apply the light that science thus lets in upon us to the subject of our recent investigation; and what a halo does it shed upon the name of Brown martyr to compassion for a royal though degraded order! How does it illuminate his motives; how begild even his empty purse! We remember his admiration of high birth, his partiality for noble blood. Probably, gentlemen, very probably, among the creatures who reigned before our lordships, and who were then all potentates, the Pig ranked high; perhaps he was the greatest mammal of them all - the mighty Paramount. If size gave importance, as it undoubtedly did, how noble must he have been! Even in these, his degenerate days, his capacity of growth is almost illimitable: conceive of his greatness in the prime and preeminence of his powers! If blood was then a test among peers, how readily must the supremacy have been yielded to him! Even in this, his era of serfdom, the stream that courses through his veins tints his flesh like jewels, and gives it an ambrosial tang! 'Gentlemen! while the rest of the world admire and applaud the man who laudably indeed spends his time in protecting and pampering the strongest and handsomest individuals, descendants of a class or an order of whilom monarchs, be it for us to honor him who has nobly devoted himself to the most miserable of their progeny: I refer to Brown. I desire Smith, as a payment of the fine I have this night imposed on him, to prepare some account of our absent friend's self-denials for the public eye; to which, if he chooses, he may add these brief remarks of my own. "And now, gentlemen, one more duty. It is not ours, perhaps, to harbor and sustain, on so large a scale as Brown has done, the scions of an unfortunate race. It was not ours, in the least particular, to aid our friend in his benevolent projects. Let us, at any rate, show our sympathy with his efforts, and our respect for their object. I propose, gentlemen to be drunk in silence The memory of BROWN'S PIGS!" Words cannot show my burning love, I try to speak, and make it plain There is more eloquence in looks, Than ever yet in speech was framed, Though lit at ladies' eyes. Then bid me sing of love no more, For silence is the speech of love, DIM grows the sky, and dusk the air, Pensive I sit, relapsing fast No, dear one, no! I did not sigh, I weep for pleasure, not for woe: THE day is cold and dreary, The house is full of gloom; But out of doors, in the blessed air, The sun is warm, the sky is fair, And the flowers are still in bloom. A moment ago, in the garden, I scattered the shining dew; The wind was soft in the swaying trees, Yet I left them unmolested, Draining their honey-wine, And entered the weary house again, To sit, as now, by a bed of pain, With a fevered hand in mine! A FEW frail summers had touched thee, We garland the urn with white roses, But in vain, all in vain ; WRECKS of clouds of a sombre gray, I stood on the deck of the ferry-boat, PHELIM O'CONNOR was defeated and slain at Athunree, by WILIAM DE BURGO, on the 10th of August, 1315. EDWARD the Second then reigned in England. LITERARY NOTICES. ISAAC T. HOPPER: A TRUE LIFE. With a Portrait. By L. MARIA CHILD. In one volume: pp. 493. Boston: JOHN P. JEWETT AND COMPANY. New-York: LEWIS COLBY AND COMPANY. Who is there, for the last twenty years a resident in New-York, that does not remember the compact, shortish, stout-built, active Quaker, whose portrait-an excellent one, by PAGE-fronts the title-page of the well-printed book before us? In our mind's eye we see him now, as we have seen him a thousand times, with his cocked hat, his dead-drab coat, his spotless linen, his sturdy calves, encased in a pair of close-fitting fine stockings, into which his legs seemed to have been run, as into a mould; with that imperturbable countenance, lips compressed with a kind of circumventive expression, and eye ever looking straight forward. That was ISAAC T. HOPPER, with whom we never exchanged a word in the world, but whom, now that he is dead, we cannot help thinking we knew as well, from his appearance, and the public reports of his character, as if we had been on intimate terms with him for years. JOSEPH BONAPARTE Once remarked to a friend, on board a steamboat bound up the Delaware to his residence at Bordentown, that he bore an extremely strong resemblance to his brother the Emperor NAPOLEON. (He didn't look so much like Louis, probably.) Mrs. CHILD'S admiration for her subject has caused her to make a big work for so simple a biography; but it is largely made up of the narratives and anecdotes of fugitive slaves which were originally written by himself, and published in a weekly journal, under the title of 'Tales of Oppression.' Several of these we remember having read at the time of their first appearance, and many of them are doubtless familiar to the public. Mrs. CHILD has re-modelled them all; partly, she says, because she wished to present them in a more concise form, and 'partly because the principal actor could be spoken of more freely by a third person than he could speak of himself;' added to which, her subject had a much more dramatic way of telling a story, than of writing it; and this unwritten style she has endeavored to embody, as nearly as she could remember it. 'Friend HOPPER,' as he was called, was a sort of 'Old HAYES' among fugitive slave-claimers; and in this regard was as 'well known as the townpump,' both in Philadelphia and New-York. IIis sympathies were so strong, |