But let it not be thought that in the following portraits mental traits are lost sight of. On the contrary, our Author has a keen eye for detecting such, and a ready pen to record them. A poet himself, and a true one, as the world will before long know, if it knows it not already, he is well able to detect and prize the poetic faculty in others; and his general knowledge of most subjects enables him to seize upon the prominent features in the politician, the philosopher, the orator, the merchant, or the journalist. In these "Takings" we think he has been singularly successful; and if in some instances he has been hurried, by an enthusiastic temperament, into over-coloring, the fault may be easily excused, for where is the painter who does not now and then overstep the "modesty of nature," and produce effects which, though they existed in his prolific imagination, are not set down in the strict rules of art?

To American readers this Gallery of Portraits of some of their most illustrious men will be of great and abiding interest. Of course there are many others whom the Author might have sketched, but what single volume could have contained all? Should, however, this book be received with favor, and we do not in the

least doubt it, a second and a third series may appear. Of such, however, it is premature to speak at present, and we therefore rest content with introducing this volume to the American reader.

Boston, Mass., June, 1854.

J. R. D.

OFF-HAND TAKINGS;

OR,

CRAYON SKETCHES.

DANIEL WEBSTER.

AMERICA is the greatest continent, and embraces within its limits the grandest mountains, the broadest lakes, the longest rivers, the largest prairies, and, with all these, the mightiest intellect. Its mountains stand up like pillars supporting the azure arch in the temple of nature; its lakes are inland seas; its rivers could swallow the waters of Europe without overflowing their banks; and its mind is correlative with the magnificence of its scenery.. There is but one Niagara, and that is in America; there is but one Webster, and he is in America. The cataract flows now, as it did when God first smote the rock in this Western wilderness, and He has woven a rainbow about its silver forehead, and crowned it with a fountain of diamonds. It shouts the same song of liberty it did when the world was in its infancy. It is free and mighty, and cannot be hushed into silence, nor flattered into subserviency. So with Webster, when he lifts up his voice

for freedom, it is like "deep calling unto deep ;" and the light of Heaven illuminates his magnetic eyes and beams on his mighty forehead.

Geologists have discovered the colossal bones of the Mastodon, and hence we infer that there were larger animals in ages gone by, than we have living at present; so, future historians will find, in their mutilated and mouldy libraries, the remains of Webster's greatness. In the glory of his manhood he represented Massachusetts; defended liberty; sympathized with humanity, and won the approbation of all good men. In the arena of debate he usually came off more than conqueror. He was regarded as the senator of the United States. When he rose in his place, in the council chamber of the nation, with a voice of thunder and eyes on fire, every face was turned towards him, every tongue was silent, for he was clad to the teeth in armor, had a spear like a weaver's beam, and had been trained to battle. He has great self-pos-session, coolness, adroitness, and tact; never was remarkable for sunshiny gaiety of imagination; rarely strayed to select bright flowers in the garden of literature; his attempts at wit were like the antics of the elephant that tried to mimic the lap-dog; but he was emphatically great. He was the Defender of the Constitution, and could present arguments in its defence with irresistible force and eloquence. His words were full of marrow, his logic unctuous with fatness. He defeated his opponents, not by the "delicacy of his tact, but by the prodigious power of his reason." There " was no honeyed paste of poetic diction" encrusting his speeches, "like

the candied coat of the auricula," but there was tremendous weight in his arguments.

Webster, in earlier days, was sublime as Chatham, classical as Burke, terse as Macintosh, forcible as Tully. Endowed, by nature, with a noble and commanding person, he never failed to attract attention. When excited in debate, his granite face glowed with intellect; "the terrors of his beak, the lightnings of his eye, were insufferable." He was the king of the Senate, for nature had stamped him with the unmistakable mark of sovereignty, regardless of the republicanism of his country. There was grace in his gesture, dignity in his deportment, and humanity as well as patriotism in his speeches. His voice was rich, full, and clear; now thrilling like the blast of a trumpet, now intimidating by the awful solemnity of its tone, now animating by its soul-stirring notes. Abroad, he was the lion of London, his noble exterior making him " a man of mark." He has coal-black hair, (now thickly sprinkled with grey,) a lofty brow, "the forge of thought;" magnificent eyes; an ample chest; a patrician •hand; a face broad and dark as some of the fugitives he would return to bondage. See him in the zenith of his manhood, standing on the battle-ground at Bunker Hill, with kingly dignity, uttering sentiments that will be fresh in the memories of millions, when the shaft of granite now standing there shall have crumbled to dust! Apparently as impregnable as the granite hills of his own New Hampshire, who supposed that he, so great and gifted, towering above ordinary men, was as the mountain which wraps the cloud-cloak about