Daily American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1852, 1852-08-05
From the National Era.
Letter from Maine.

/
kept back from your paper many thoughts,
motions and revolutions Of the brain, which,
could they have printed themselves on paper,
would have found their way towards you
Don't you suppose, in the marvellous progress
of this fast-living age, the time will ever come,
when, by some metaphysical daguerreotype
process, the thoughts and images Of the brain
shall print themselves on paper, without the in
tervention of pen and ink? Then, how many
brilliancies, now lost and forgotten before one
gets time to put them through the slow process
of writing, shall flash upon us! Our poets
will sit in luxurious case, with quirc of paper
in their pockets, and have nothing to do but
lean back in their chairs, and 90 off in an &C.
stacy and 10! they will find it all written out,
commas and all, ready for the printer What
a relief, too, to multitudes of gentle hearts,
whose friends in this busy age are too hurried
to find much time for writing. Your NOR
chant puts a sheet of paper inside Of his vest
over his heart, of course--and in the interval
between selling goods and pricing stocks,
thinks warm thoughts towards his wife or lady
love-and at night draws forth long letter,
all directed ready for the post How convent
cnt! Would that some friend Of humanity
would offer a premium for the discovery
The spiritual rapping fraternity, who arc
au fat in all that relates to mans capabilities,
and who are now speaking cr caihedra of all
things celestial and terrestrial, past, present,
and to come, can perhaps Immediately settle
the mnutie ofsuch an arrangement. One thing
is quite certain that if every man wore u sheet
Of paper in his BOSOM on which there should
be a true and literal version Of all his thoughts
even for one day. in great many cases he
would be astounded on reading it over Are
there not many who would there see in plain
unvarnished English, what their patriotism,
disinterestedneSs, generosity, friendship, rei-
gion, actually amounts tot Let us fancy some
of our extra patriotic public men comparing
such sheet with their speeches, We have
| been amused, sometimes, at the look of blank
astonishment with which men look for the first
time on their own daguerreotype Is that me
Do look 50 Perhaps this inner dagucrrco-
type might prove more surprising still What,
l think thati | purpose so-and So What
| II troublesome ugly machine III have moth
ing to do with itn
But to drop that subject and start another.
1t seems to us quite wonderful, that in all the
ccstacics that have been lavishcd on American
scenery this beautiful State OF Maine should
have been SO much neglected for nothing is
or can be more wildly, peculiarly beautiful
particularly the scenery Of the sea-coast. A
glance at the map will show one the peculiar
| ity of these shores 1t is u complicated net
work and labyrinth Of islands--the sea inter
penetrating the land in every fancifal form,
through q belt of coast from fifteen to twenty
miles wide. The effect Of this, rs it lies on the
map, and as it lives and glows in reality, is as
different as the difference between the poetry
of life and its dead matter of fact.
But supposing yourself almost anywhere in
Maine, within fifteen miles Of the shore, and
you start for a ride to the sea side, you will
then be IN Il fair way to realize it. The sea,
living, beautiful, and life-giving. seems, as you
ride, to be everywhere about you--behind be-
fore, around Now it rises like a lake. gcmmcd
with islands, and emboSOmcd by rich swclls Of
woodland. Now, you catch u peep Of it on
your right hand, among tufts of oak and ma
pie, and anon it spreads on your left to a ma
jcstic sheet of silver, among rocky shores,
hung with dark pines, hemlocks, and spruccs.
The sea shores of Connecticut and Massa-
chusetts have a kind Of badness and baroness
which you never see here. As you approach
the ocean there, the trees seem to become stunt
cd and few in number, but here the sea luxu-
rates, swclls, and falls in the very lap of the
primcval forest The tide water washes the
dropping branches of the oak and maple, and
dashcs itself up into whole hedges Of luxuriant
arbor vitae.
No language can be too enthusiastic to
paint the beauty Of the eyergrccns in these
forests. The lordly spruce, so straight, 50
tall, so perfectly defined in its outline with
its regal crest of cones, sparkling with the
clear cxudcd gum, and bearing on Its top that
silent finger" which Elliot describes as
ever pointing up to God tho ancient white
pine with its slender whispering leaves the
feathery larchcs, the rugged and shaggy &C.
dars--all unite to form such n goodly fellow
ship" that ono is inclined to think for the time
that no son of the forest can compare with
them But the spruce is the prince among
them all. Far or near, you sec its slender obe-
lisk of dark green, rising slngly amid forests
of oak OF maplc, or marshallcd together in
serricd ranks over distant hills, or wooding
innumerabc points whose fantastic outlines
intcrlacc tho silvcTy sea- The heavy blue
green of these distant pines forms II beautiful
contrast to the glitter Of the waters, and af-
fords fine background, to throw out the small
white wings Of sail boats, which arc ever pass
ing from point to point among these bays and
harbors. Ono of the most peculiar and ro-
mantle features Of these secluded woUd-cmbo-
somcd waters of Maine is this sudden appari-
tion of shipping and sea craft, in such wild
and lonely places, that they seem to you, as the
| first ships did to tho simple SayagcS to be visit
ants from the spirit land You arc riding in
lonely road, by some bay that seems to you
| ike secluded lnlind lake You CHECK your
horse, to notice the fine outline Of the various
points, when 10! from behind ono Of them.
Swan-likc, with wings all spread, glidcs in
ship from India or China, and wakes up the
silence, by tumbling her great anchor into the
water. a ship, Of itself u child OF romance
dreamy, cloud-likc, poetic thing--and that
ship connects these pincy hills and rocky shores
these spruccs and frs with distant lands oi
palm and spice, and speaks to you, in these
solitudcs, of groves Of citron and olive. We