thunder and lightning have received the law. Men have seen the light of their communion service still shining in their faces, and their ministering robes still rustling with the divine afflatus.

Let us proceed now to the comparison of the two arts as media of expression. Expression may relate to the accuracy of the idea conveyed, or to the effect of the idea on the feelings.

This is a general truth. Let a man be present and see a desperado seize a knife and implant in the body of an innocent victim. Let him be absent and receive a truthful narrative of the same from the lines of the poet. In the former instance, he will have both a more accurate idea of the event itself and greater violence done to his sensibilities. This is real life, a thing we have looked upon. It is not thus with painting. It is representation, and is not included within the rule of Horace. The murderer is a mimic murderer, the dead are mimic dead. Thus the difference is great between real and represented existence.

First, let us compare the arts in respect to the accuracy of idea conveyed. We comprehend more clearly local relations and physical proportion from the brush of the painter than from the pen of the poet. Painting triumphs in the apparent, poetry in the symbolical. If a painter represent the human form on canvas, he conveys a better idea of the adaptation of its parts and its physical characteristics than it is possible for the poet. But when he would introduce the physiognomy of a man as an index of the heart, or concisely, the symbolical; he fails and the poet triumphs.

Can a painter adequately represent the human heart by means of the organs of the face? Can he concentrate it in the mould of the head, the expression of the eye, the formation of the lip? The Great Painter himself has not done it; much less can the human artist. Could we even conceive of the entire success of the latter, he would cease to be true to nature. The villain does not always bear the villain's countenance. The murderer does not always bear the cain-mark of his infamy. He may look noble. He may know etiquette. He may regard an elaborate toilet. His voice may be as sweet, "as when o'er Laura's bier sad music trembled through Vauclusa's glade." And why should he not be so ? Judas kissed his Lord, and Joab while twitching the head of Amasa and asking for his health, was pleased to stab him "in the fifth rib." Circe

was fair-haired and a captivating singer, but bristles grew on the followers of "the godlike Ulysses." The syrens were very musical, but there were near them some heaps of dead men's bones. Polyphemus offered the hospitality of his cave to Ulysses for a little of his wine, but he only meant that he would eat his companions first; and as a mark of distinguished respect, Ulysses last. The basilisk had pretty folds, but it would destroy fascinated people of simple minds. Thus the form and expression of the human countenance are uncertain indices of the human heart.

What is the human heart? It may be a temple to the living God, it may be a Pandemonium. Man is an anomalous being. As Lord Brougham said of Robert Hall's face, "the upper part belongs to an angel, the lower to a demon."

Prompted by philanthropy, he is urgent in his assiduities toward the afflicted and the disconsolate. He inhales the noxious effluvía of prisons, that others may breathe the bracing air. He rejects every appliance of ease and comfort, that others may enjoy the reality. This is the angel.

Urged on by an unholy ambition, he will pile "Pelion upon Ossa," to make a stairway to his infernal heaven. He will introduce a pestilence into the air, and throw a plague-spot on the sun. He will adjust the proprieties in a tragedy of murder as he would a matter of common-place. He will wring from the orphan and the widow "the last pale hope that shivered at the heart." Like to the fallen archangel, he will mutter, "Better reign in hell than serve in heaven." This is the demon.

But the poet is fitter to delineate these contrarieties in the human heart. He is gifted with more than ordinary sensibility. This sensibility is necessarily active in his intercourse with his fellow-men, as it is constantly subject to impressions. Thus human conduct is observed closely by him, and from the necessity of his nature he becomes deeply read in the philosophy of human action. He may not, like to the Cassius of Shakspeare, or that great dramatist himself, look "quite through the deeds of men;" but his perception is extraordinarily strong and vivid. His felicity in discovering truth is not confined to the heart of man; but it is extended to whatever investigation the energies of the mind are applied. What has been affirmed of the poet, to a certain extent is applicable to the painter. He has much of the same sensibility to impression, the same insight into character, the same divine frenzy with which to prosecute his embodiments. But the cold laws of his art forbid his triumphs in the symbolical; for the question may recur, Can a painter adequately represent the human heart by means of the organs of the face?

Secondly, let us compare these arts in regard to their effects on the feelings. Here poetry bears the palin alone.

We look on a painting as a curiosity, as a gratification to the sense of sight, rather than as stirring the depths of our feelings. It is not thus with poetry. Painting, in its effects, is like to the experience of one entering a palace, beholding the silken tapestries, the splendid colorings, the marble columns, the rich profusion of golden ornament. It is all beautiful, it excites his curiosity; but it belongs to another, his feelings are cold. Poetry in its effect, is like to the experience of one who realizes upon his entrance that the palace is his, his to enjoy and his to dispose of. Poetry may delight us, as if by the soft accents of an angel. It may produce a grief which will overflow the laboring heart. It may calm down the asperities of our nature. It may heave the breast for the shrill clarion of war. It may dispose us for an inglorious dalliance with pleasure. It may stimulate us to the performance of noble deeds. It may embolden us to fear no danger. It may make a ghost of our own shadow, and scare us in the very light of the sun. It may make a stick of wood, a block, a stone into a demon, shaking his "gory locks at me." It may make men into children, children into men. The human heart is a stringed instrument of exquisite workmanship. The poet knows the location of every string and its legitimate sound. He can play upon it the "manly epic," or the jeremiad, a war-song, or a love-song, a hymn of praise to man, or of praise to God.

Would the Marseilles' Hymn in a painting stir the Frenchman in battle more than the Marseilles' Hymn set to music? Would the midnight villain, who" with ravishing strides towards his design, moves like a ghost," shock the feelings more, if transferred to the canvas of Vandyke, than he does in the Macbeth of Shakspeare? or would the stain of blood on that "little hand," which no water of the earth could wash away? Would the forms of Death and Sin, which Milton with internal vision saw at the gates of hell, derive effect by the aid of the pencil?

The poet is a madman. You cannot cure his head by "three Anticyras." But it is his inspiration which has driven him mad. He foams at the mouth, but he talks oracles. Like to the Sicilian bard he may leap into burning Etna, to be regarded an immortal God, but he tells the truth. Truth, in a state of sanity of mind, will have influence, but truth, in a state of madness, will have greater influence. We listen with rapt attention to the madman, and are almost disposed to run mad with him.

Thus far we have considered the two arts as exhibited in the same imitation. But the sphere of painting is not co-extensive with poetry. Every subject of a painting may be made into a poem, but the converse is not equally true.

Painting has to do with the tangible; poetry with tangible and intangible. Painting can represent ideas through corporeal media only. It is limited to the concrete. Poetry may range through abstract or concrete, through the world of facts or the world of fiction. Everything that is and is not may harmonize into poetry. Whithersoer the imagination may go, thither the poet may go. He is like to the wind, which "blow-. eth where it listeth." Nor is it an unhallowed thought, that when time shall be no more, when mortality shall have put on immortality, the poet, flaming with deeper and holier inspirations, will find audience before the Eternal Throne.

G. A. J.

Memorabilia Valensia.

CLASS MEETING OF '53.

In pursuance of notice, the Senior Class, on 19th ult., met at the Philosophical Chamber in the Athanæum, for the purpose of electing an Orator and a Poet, to represent them on Presentation day. Thomas F. Davis officiated as Chairman, and Messrs. Gilbert and Woodward as Tellers. Much good feeling prevailed, and the result was announced as follows:

ORATOR,

Randall Lee Gibson, of La.

POET,

Charlton Thomas Lewis, of Pa.

CLASS MEETING OF '54.

The Class of '54 assembled in the Philosophical Chamber, on Saturday, February 12th, for the purpose of electing their Editors of the Yale Literary Magazine. William H. Fenn was called to preside, and Messrs. Lambert and Leeds were appointed Tellers. The result was the choice of the following gentlemen as Editors:

W. C. FLAGG, Paddock's Grove, Ill.

J. W. HOOKER, New Haven, Conn.

W. S. MAPLES, Selma, Ala.

L. S. POTWINE, East Windsor, Conn.

C. T. PURNELL, Port Gibson, Miss.

KETCHUM'S ADDRESS ON WEBSTER.

Agreeably to a written request from the Societies of Linonia, the Brothers in Unity, and Calliope, the Hon. Hiram Ketchum, of New York City, on the Anni

versary of the birth of Daniel Webster, delivered a Eulogy on his life and character, in the Chapel. The Orator elicited profound interest and attention. His address occupied two hours and a quarter in delivery, and has been published in pamphlet form.

DISSOLUTION OF THE CALLIOPEAN SOCIETY.

The Calliopean Society has been dissolved. G. A. Johnson, R. L. Gibson, and J. Hamilton, were elected by the Society as a Committee, to make a final and full settlement of its affairs. The Committee are engaged at present in liquidating all debts of the Society, and in fulfilling the other duties devolved on them. A full statement of the causes of dissolution, and the executive labors of the Committee, will be given in the next number of the Magazine. The Society voted that such a statement should be written and published.

"THE TEA-KETTLE."

A new Senior Secret Society, christened with this name, was constituted at the close of last term. We welcome its appearance with cordiality. May it long survive and give an honorable paternity to its founders !

EXTRACTS FROM THE LAWS OF YALE COLLEGE, PUBLISHED A. D. 1787.

Chap. 2.-Of a Religious and Virtuous Life.

1. All the scholars are required to live a religious and blameless life, according to the Rules of God's Word, diligently reading the holy Scriptures, that Fountain of Divine Light and Truth, and constantly attending all the Duties of Religion.

2. The President, or, in his Absence, one of the Tutors in their turn shall constantly pray in the Chapel every Morning and Evening, and read a Chapter or some suitable Portion of Scripture, unless a Sermon or some Theological Discourse shall then be delivered. And every member of College is obliged to attend, upon the Penalty of One Penny for every Instance of Absence, and a Half Penny for being tardy or egressing without a sufficient Reason.

4. All the Scholars are obliged to attend Divine Worship in the College Chapel on the Lord's Day, and on Days of Fasting and Thanksgiving appointed by public Authority, upon penalty of Four Pence (without just Reason) for Absence either Part of the Lord's Day, or a Thanksgiving Day, or a Fast Day, and Three Pence for Absence from a lecture, and One Penny for being tardy, &c.

6. Every scholar is required to shew all due Honor and Reverence, both in Words and Behavior, to all his superiors, viz. Parents, Magistrates, Ministers, and especially to the President, Fellows, Professors, Tutors and Seniors of this College; and shall in no case use any reproachful, reviling, disrespectful or contumacious Language; but on the contrary shall shew them all proper tokens of Reverence and Obedience.

7. No scholar shall walk upon the Sabbath, or on any Fast day.

Concerning Scholastic Exercises.

1. Every student shall diligently apply himself to his studies in his Chambers, and no student shall walk abroad or be absent from his Chamber, except half an hour after breakfast and an hour and a half after dinner, upon penalty of Two Pence or more to Six Pence, at the discretion of the President.