The daily union. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1845-1857, 1851-12-28

Literary Notice.
Dream, Of Life A Fabs Of the Seasons BY TX MARVEL.
Published by CHAnIEs scRIBSER, New York. Nor sale
by X. FARSHAa)
We have before another OF those charming define
atoms OF the sympathes common to our humanity which
have endeared The author OF the "Reveries OF Bache
lor' to thousands Of those whose hearts, IN passing
through this "dream land" have alternately bounded
with the Joys, expanded with the loves or sunk uem-
bling beneath the weight of those affections which, wllh
the pencil OF master. he has so uhfuly portrayed In
the present volume have pictures OF the voyage oil
fe'not indeed, shadowing forth those high ambitious
hopes with which the young yoyager IN Coles almost
magic series launches his bark upon the stream behold
ing in the far distant future the temple OF iame and ma
king everything subordinate 10 that one passion OF am
bltion-bu delineatng, with llfelk accuracy which
makes the heart OF the reader beat in unison with that oil
the writer those everyday emotions passions, hopes,
and fears, which, though common 10 every child OF
ADAM are never talked OF, seldom acknowledged to
ourselves We have here the dreams OF boyhood, OF
youth of manhood and of age with the fears and trials
the sentiments and loves, the tranquility and hopeful
trust peculiar TO each. How true 10 Nature is the fol.
lowing passage, descriptive Of chds emotions al the
| frs, sight OF death
The Doctor looks very soemnly as approach. He
takes out his watch He is not counting Charles pulse,
for he has dropped his hand and lies caelessly-but
OH how Thin over the edge Of the bed.
He shakes his head mouTnfuly at your mother and she
springs forward dropping your hand and lays her fingers
upon the forehead OF The boy and passes her hand over
| his mouth.
sis he asleep, Doctor " she says, IN tone you DO not
- Be calm. madam" The Doctor is very calm.
:" am calm says your mother; but you do not think
it, for you see her emble very plainly
Dear madam, he will never waken in this world"
There is no cry-only bowling down Of your mothers
bead upon the body OF poor, dead Charlie land ory
when you zee her form shake and culver with the deep.
smohered sobs your crying bursts forth loud and strong
The Doctor liits you IN his arms that you may see
hair gcne-those white lips pnched and hard Never
never. will the boy forget his first terrible sight OF
Death
In your silent chamber after the storm of sobs has
wearied you, the boy dreams strange and earnest
They take hold on tina, awful Vstanl-that strange
Slipping away from life, of which we know 50 little. and
brother is only name: perhaps he IS an angel
perhaps Qor the old nurse has said It, when he was
uely-and now you hate her for i) be is with Satan
But you sure this cannot be: you are sure that God
who made him suffer would not quicken and null
tply his suffering II agrees with your religion 10 think
so; and just now you want your religion to help all
il can.
You toss in your bed thinking over and over of tina,
strange thing-Deah and that perhaps 1t may overtake
you before you and you sob out those prayers
you know Why which ask God TO keep lie in
you. You think the involuntary fear tina, makes your
little prayer full OF sobs is holy feeling and so 1t is
holy ieeDg-the same feeling which makes stricken
child yearn for the embrace and the protection OF parent
But you will find there those caniing ones trying 10
persuade you at later day that 1t Is mere animal tear
and not 10 be cherished.
You feel of goodness growing out Of your
boyish grief you feel right minded il seems as il your
little brother going 10 Heaven, had opened pathway
thher, down which goodness comes streaming over your
soul
You think how good life you will lead and you map
great purposes spreading themselves the school
weeks of your remaining boyhood and you love your
friends, to- far dearly than you owed
them before and you forgive the boy who provoked you
TO that sad fall from the oaks, and you forgive him all his
wearsome ieasngs But you cannot forgive yourself Tor
harsh words that you have once spok to Charlie
hayin s,rtcu
him passion with your fist You cannot forget his sobs
then If he only alive little instant 10 lei you
say Charlie, will you forgive me p
Yourself you cannot iorgiye; and sobbng it.
and nurmurng Dear-dear Charlie !" you drop into a
troubled sleep.
With one more extract from the " Dream OF Life" we
close somewha extended notice of volume which
we have perused with the greatest pleasure:
And with this thought of modes,y and gen,leness to
illuminate your dream OF an IDEAL wife, YOU chase the
peasan phantom TO that shaeowy home-Bng far of in
the iuure-of which she is The glory and the crown
know it is the fashion now days with many TO look for
a womaD's excelences and influence away from her
home but know, TOO. that vast many eager and hope
full hearts still cherish The belief that her virtues will
range highest and live longest within those sacred walls
Where indeed, the modest and earnest virtue of
woman tell a stronger story OF It's worth than upon the
dawnng habit of child Where can her grace Of char
ac,er win higher and ripper effect than upon the action
OF her household What mean those noisy decainers
who talk Of the feeble influence and of the crushed
faculties OF woman
What school OF learning or OF moral endeavor depends
more its teacher than the home upon the mother
What influence OF all the worlds professors and teachers
tells so strongly The habit OF mans mind as those
gentle droppngs from mothers lips which, day by day
and hour by hour grow into the enargng stature OF his
soul, aud live with II ioreverl They hardly be
mothers who aim al broader and noser field they have
forgotten 10 be daughters they needs have lost the
hope OF being wives
Be this how may, the heart of man, with whom
affection 10 not a name and love passion OF the
hour yearns toward the quiet OF home toward the goal
of his earthly Joy and hope And you iasten there
your thought an ndugent, yet dreamy fancy paints the
loved image that is to adorn it, and TO make ii sacred
She is there TO bid you God speed and an adieu that
hangs like music your you go the every
day labor OF life. At evening she is there to greet you
as you come back wearied with days toll and her
look, full Of gladness, cheats you OF your fatigue
and she steals her around you with soul OF wei.
come that beams like sunshine her brow and that fills
your eye with tears OF twin gratitude TO her and
Heaven
She is no, uumndul of those old fashioned virtues of
cleanliness and OF order which give air OF quiet and
which secure content Your wants all anticipated
the fire IS burning brightly the clean hearth flashes I'M
Ter the Joyous blaze the old elbow chair is n its place
Your very unworbiness OF all this haunts you like an
accusing spirit, and yet peneiraes your heart with
devotion toward the loved who is thus wa,ohful OF
your comiori
She is geulle-keepng your love, she has won it, by
thousand nameess and modest virtues which radiate
from her whole life and action. She steals upon your
affections like summer wind breathing softly over sleep
ing valleys. She gains mastery your sterner
nature by very contrast and wins you unwngy to her
lghiest wish. And yet her wishes guided by that
delicate tact which avoids conflict with your manly pride
bt IN tia Ru a IL