JAMES HANDASYD PERKINS, a writer of an acute mind and versatile powers, was born in Boston July 31, 1810. His parents were Samuel G. Perkins and Barbara Higginson. He was educated by Mr. S. P. Miles, afterwards a tutor of mathematics at Harvard, and at the Phillips Academy at Exeter, and the Round Hill school at Northamp ton. He wrote clever tales and verses at this period, humorous and sentimental. At the age of eighteen he entered the countinghouse of his uncle, Mr. Thomas H. Perkins, who was engaged in the Canton trade. He remained faithful to the discharge of the routine duties of this occupation for more than two years. The necessities of a poetic and naturally despondent nature, however, grew upon him, and demanded other employment for his faculties. In the winter of 1830 he found relief in a business tour to England and thence to the West Indies, of which his faithful friend and biographer, Mr. William Henry Channing, has preserved some interesting memorials. His letters on the journey are spirited and abounding with character, thoughtful on serious points and amusing in the lighter. Returning home in the summer of 1831, he abandoned mercantile life and sought a home in the West. He took up his residence at Cincinnati, and devoted his attention to the study of the law with his friend the Hon. Timothy Walker. He studied laboriously and conscientiously; but the toil was too severe in the practice of the profession for an infirm constitution, and a scrupulous conscience was still more in the way. İlis pen offered the next field, and he laid on the sh.fting foundation of the magazines and newspapers some of the corner-stones of the "Literature of the West." He conducted the Western Monthly Magazine, and edited the Evening Chronicle, a weekly paper which he purchased in the winter of 1835, and united with the Cincinnati Mirror then published by Mr. William D. Gallagher and Mr. Thomas H. Shreve, who has been since prominently associated with the Louisville Gazette. The last mentioned gentleman remarks of his friend's powers, “Had Mr. Perkins devoted himself to humorous literature he would have stood at the head of American writers in that line."* His fancy was fresh and original; and his descriptive talent, as exhibited in Mr. Channing's collection of his writings, a pleasurable and ready faculty. Literature, however meritorious, was hardly, under the circumstances, a sufficient reliance. Mr. Perkins was now a married man in need of a * Channing's Memoir and Writings of Perkins, 1. 91. settled support, when the failure of his publisher induced him to engage in rural life. Failing in the scheme of a plantation on the Ohio he took a few acres near Cincinnati with the view of raising a nursery of fruit trees. To acquire information in this new line, and make arrangements for the publication of two books which he meditated on the "Constitutional Opinions of Judge Marshall," and "Reminiscences of the St. Domingo Insurrection," of which his father had been an eye-wit ness, he paid a visit to New England. Neither of his plans was carried out; but a new and honorable career was found for him on his return to Cincinnati in the performance of the duty of Minister at Large, a mission of benevolence to which he devoted the remainder of his life. He brought his characteristic fervor to the work, and gave a practical direction to the charities of the city; almsgiving, in his view, being but subordinate to the elevation of the poor in the self-respect and rewards of labor. He also identified himself with the cause of prison discipline and reform, and gave much attention to education. He was a generous supporter of the Mercantile Library Association of Cincinnati. He was the first President of the Cincinnati Historical Society in 1844, and was afterwards Vice-President of the Ohio Historical Society; his fondness for the latter pursuits being liberally witnessed by his publication, The Annals of the West, and his subsequent series of historical sketches of that region in the North American Review from 1839 to 1847, characterized by their research and excellent descriptive style.* In the latter part of his life, Mr. Perkins interested himself in a plan of Christian Union, to which he was led by his quick sensitive mind. His death, December 14, 1849, was under melancholy circumstances. He had been thrown, during the day, into a state of nervous agitation by the supposed loss of his children, who had failed to return home at a time appointed, and in the evening he proposed a walk to recover his spirits. He took his course to a ferry-bont on the river, and in a st..te of depression threw himself into the stream and was drowned. Thus closed the career of a man of subtle powers, keen and delicate perceptions, of honorable attainments in literature, and of philanthropic usefulness in the business affairs of society. From the few verses preserved in the interesting memoirs by Mr. Channing, who has traced his career with an unaffected admiration of his virtues, and with the warmth of personal friendship, we select two passages which exhibit something of the nature of the man. POVERTY AND KNOWLEDGE. Ah, dearest, we are young and strong, The articles are, Fifty Years of Ohio, July, 1888: Early French Travellers in the West, January, 1889; English Discoveries in the Ohio Valley. July, 1889; The Border War of the Revolution, October, 1889; The Pioneers of Kentucky, January, 1846; Settlement of the North-Western Territory, October, 1847. He also wrote for the North American Review of January, 1850, an article on Australia; and for the New York Review, July, 1839, an article on The French Revolution. Yet, my dear wife, there is a might That may bid poverty defiance,- Armed with her sceptre, to an hour We may condense whole years and ages; Bid the departed, by her power, Arise, and talk with seers and sages. Her word, to teach us, may bid stop The noonday sun; yea, she is able To make an ocean of a drop, Or spread a kingdom on our table. In her great name we need but call Scott, Schiller, Shakspeare, and, behold! The suffering Mary smiles on all, And Falstaff riots as of old. Then, wherefore should we leave this hearth, Or mourn that poverty hath bound us? We have our hearts, our heads, our hands, Enough to live on,-friends around us,— And, more than all, have hope and love. Ah, dearest, while those last, be sure That, if there be a God above, We are not and cannot be poor! ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG CHILD. Stand back, uncovered stand, for lo! He came, a herald from above,— Pure from his God he came to them, And, like the boy of Bethlehem, They learned a new, more heavenly joy, But though the tears must flow, the heart When his clear eye grew meaningless, Upon his Father's errand he, Your own dear, bright, unearthly boy, And from this fount of bitter grief O, may this be your faith and your relief! Then will the world be full of him; the sky, Believe in him, behold him everywhere, Quick and more quick, till, welcomed there above, tive forms. OL. II.-34 BENSON J. LOSSING. BENSON J. LOSSING, the son of a farmer, was born in the town of Beekman, Dutchess County, N. Y. His paternal ancestors came from Holland in 1670, and were the first settlers in the county. His maternal ancestors were among the early English settlers on Long Island, who came from Massachusetts Bay and intermarried with the Dutch at New Amsterdam, now New York. At a common district school Mr. Lossing received a meagre portion of the elementary branches of an English education. After the death of his mother, young Lossing, after passing a short time on a farm, in the autumn of 1826, was apprenticed to a watchmaker in Poughkeepsie, the county town of his native place. So satisfactory had his conduct been during this period, that before the expiration of his apprenticeship his employer made him an offer of partnership in his business, which was accepted. Benson J Jeanin Meantime, he devoted every moment of leisure to study, although opportunities as yet for obtaining books were extremely limited. Ilis business connexion proving unsuccessful he relinquished it, after an experiment of upwards of two years; and in the autumn of 1835, he became joint owner and editor of the Poughkeepsie Telegraph, the leading weekly paper of the county. The co-partnership of Killey and Lossing continued for six years. In January, 1836, was commenced the publication of a small semi-monthly paper entirely devoted to literature, entitled The Poughkeepsie Casket, which was solely edited by Mr. Losing. The Casket was a great favorite throughout Dutchess and the neighboring counties, and gave evident token of the correct taste and sound judgment of its youthful editor. Having, moreover, a taste for art, and being desirous of illustrating his little periodical, Mr. Lossing placed himself under the tuition of J. A. Adams, the eminent woodengraver in the city of New York, pleased with the practical application of engraving to his editorial business. The same autumn he went to New York to seek improvement in the use of the pencil by drawing in the Academy of Design. About this time, Mr. Lossing was called upon to undertake the editorship of the Family Magazine, which work he also illustrated in a superior manner. He now became permanently settled in New York as an engraver, but continued his business connexion in Poughkeepsie until the autumn of 1841. While engaged throughout the day in his increasing engraving business, he performed his editorial labors at night and early in the morning, and at the same period, during the winter of 1840-41, wrote a valuable little volume entitled An Outline History of the Fine Arts, which was published as No. 103 of Harpers' Family Library. In the autumn of 1846, he wrote a book entitled Seventeen Hundred and SeventySix, consisting of upwards of five hundred pages royal octavo, and illustrated by seventy engravings; and shortly after, produced three biographical and historical pamphlets of upwards of one hundred pages each; together with the Lives of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence, a duodecimo volume of over four hundred pages. This, and the subsequent year, he also edited a small paper entitled The Young People's Mirror, published by Edward Walker, which met with a ready reception from that class of the community. In June, 1848, Mr. Lossing conceived the idea and plan of the Pictorial Field Book of the Revolution. He defined the size of the proposed pages; drew some rough sketches in sepia as indications of the manner in which he intended to introduce the illustrations, and with a general description of the plan of his work, submitted it to the consideration of the Messrs. Harper and Brothers. Four days afterwards they had concluded a bargain with him, involving an expenditure of much labor and many thousands of dollars; and something within a month afterwards Mr. Lossing was on his way to the battle-fields and other localities of interest connected with the war for Independence. In the collection of his materials, he travelled upwards of nine thousand miles, not in a continuous journey from place to place, but a series of journeys, undertaken whenever he could leave his regular business, the supervision of which ho never omitted. Although the Field Book was upwards of four years in hand, yet the aggregate time occupied in travelling, making sketches and notes, drawing a large portion of the pictures on the blocks for engraving, and writing the work, was only about twenty months. The work was published in thirty numbers, the first issued on the first of June, 1850; the last in December, 1852. It was just beginning to be widely and generally known, and was enjoying a rapidly increasing sale, when the great conflagration of the Harpers' establishment in 1853 destroyed the whole remainder of the edition. It was out of print for a year, but a new and revised edition was put to press in March, 1855. During portions of 1853-54, Mr. Lossing devoted much time to the preparation of an Illustrated History of the United States for schools and families; and early in 1855 completed a work of four hundred pages which he entitled Our Country men, containing numerous brief sketches with portraits on wood of remarkable persons eminent by their connexion with the history of the United States. During the last three years, Mr. Lossing has been engaged in collecting materials for an elaborate illustrated history of the war of 1812, and also a history of the French Empire in America; each to be uniform in size of page and style with his Field Book. He has also formed an association with Mr. Lyman C. Draper, well known throughout the west as an indefatigable collector of traditions, manuscripts, journals, letters, &c., relating to the history and biography of the settlements and settlers beyond the Alleganies, for the purpose of producing a series of volumes commencing with the life of Daniel Boone. Mr. Lossing has also contributed many valuable papers to various publications of the day, especially to Harpers' Magazine, in a series of American biographical articles in which his pen and pencil are equally employed. ANN S. STEPHENS. MRS. STEPHENS is a native of Connecticut. She married at an early age and removed to Portland, Maine, where she commenced and continned for some time, the Portland Magazine. In 1836 she edited the Portland Sketch Book, a collection of Miscellanies by the writers of the state. She afterwards removed with her husband to New York, where she has since resided. Ann Bephen A tale from her pen, Mary Derwent, won a prize of four hundred dollars offered by one of the periodicals, and its publication brought the author prominently forward as a popular writer for the magazines, to which she has contributed a large number of tales, sketches, and poems. Her last and most elaborate work is the novel of Fashion and Famine, a story of the contrasts of city life. It is of the intense school, and contains many scenes of questionable taste and probability, with much that is excellent in description and the delineation of character. One of the best drawn personages of the book is a well to do and kindly huckster woman of Fulton Market. The scenes about her stall, and at the farin whose abundance constantly replenishes her stock, are in a pleasant vein. The chief interest of the plot centres on a trial for murder, and the scenes connected with it are written with energy and effect. We present the introduction of the Strawberry Girl to the market-woman in the opening scene of the book. THE STRAWBERRY GIRL. Like wild flowers on the mountain side, Yet intellect, in all its pride, And energy, with pain and toil, Than Charity in humble birth. To meet so much of Heaven on earth. The morning had not fully dawned on New York, yet its approach was visible every where amid the piled above Weehawken were warming up with fine scenery around the city. The dim shadows purple, streaked here and there with threads of rosy gold. The waters of the Hudson heaved and rippled to the glow of yellow and crimson light, that came and went in flashes on each idle curl of the waves. Long Island lay in the near distance like a thick, purplish cloud, through which the dim outline of house, tree, mast and spire loomed mistily, like halfformed objects on a camera obscura. Silence that strange, dead silence that broods over a scene crowded with slumbering life-lay upon the city, broken only by the rumble of vegetable carts and the jar of milk-cans, as they rolled up from the different ferries; or the half-smothered roar of some steamboat putting into its dock, freighted with sleeping passengers. After a little, symptoms of aroused life became visible about the wharves. Grocers, carmen, and huckster-women began to swarm around the provision boats. The markets nearest the water were opened, and soon became theatres of active bustle. The first market opened that day was in Fulton street. As the morning deepened, piles of vegetables, loads of beef, hampers of fruit, heaps of luscious butter, cages of poultry, canary birds swarming in their wiry prisons, forests of green-house plants, horse-radish grinders with their reeking machines, venders of hot coffee, root beer and dough nuts, all with men, women, and childrens warming in, over, and among them, like so many ants, hard at work, filled the spacious arena, but late a range of silent, naked, and gloomy looking stalls. Then carts, laden and groaning beneath a weight of food, came rolling up to this great mart, crowding each avenue with fresh supplies. All was life and eagerness. Stout men and bright-faced women moved through the verdant chaos, arranging, working, chatting, all full of life and enterprise, while the rattling of carts outside, and the gradual accumulation of sounds everywhere, bespoke a great city aroused, like a giant refreshed, from slumber. Slowly there arose out of this cheerful confusion, forms of homely beauty, that an artist or a thinking man might have loved to look upon. The butchers' stalls, but late a desolate range of gloomy beams, were reddening with fresh joints, many of them festooned with fragrant branches and gorgeous garden flowers. The butchers standing, each by his stall, with snow-white apron, and an eager, joyous look of traffic on his face, formed a display of comfort and plenty, both picturesque and pleasant to contemplate. The fruit and vegetable stands were now loaded with damp, green vegetables, each humble root having its own peculiar tint, often arranged with a singular taste for color, unconsciously possessed by the woman who exercised no little skill in setting off her stand to advantage. There was one vegetable stand to which we would draw the render's particular attention; not exactly as a type of the others, for there was something so unlike all the rest, both in this stall and its occupant, that it would have drawn the attention of any person possessed of the slightest artistical taste. It was like the arrangement of a picture, that long table heaped with fruit, the freshest vegetables, and the brightest flowers, ready for the day's traffic. Rich scarlet radishes glowing up through their foliage of tender green, were contrasted with young onions swelling out from their long emerald stalks, snowy and transparent as so many great pearls. Turnips, scarcely larger than a hen's egg, and nearly as white, just taken fresh and fragrant from the soil, lay against heads of lettuce, tinged with crisp and greenish gold, piled against the deep blackish green of spinach and water-cresses, all moist with dew, or wet with bright water-drops that had supplied its place, nud taking a deeper tint from the golden contrast. These with the red glow of strawberries in their luscious prime, piled together in masses, and shaded with fresh grape leaves; bouquets of roses, hya cinths, violets, and other fragrant blossoms, lent their perfume and the glow of their rich colors to the coarser children of the soil, and would have been an object pleasant to look upon, independent of the fine old woman who sat complacently on her little stool, at one end of the table, in tranquil expectation of customers that were sure to drop in as the morning deepened. And now the traffic of the day commenced in earnest. Servants, housekeepers, and grocers, swarmed into the market. The clink of money-the sound of sharp, eager banter-the dull noise of the butcher's cleaver, were heard on every hand. It was a pleasant scene, for every face looked smiling and happy. The soft morning air seemed to have brightened all things into cheerfulness. With the earliest group that entered Fulton market that morning was a girl, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old, but tiny in her form, and appearing far more juvenile than that. A pretty quilted hood, of rose-colored calico, was turned back from her face, which seemed naturally delicate and pale; but the fresh air, and perhaps a shadowy reflection from her hood, gave the glow of a rose-bud to her cheeks. Still there was anxiety upon her young face. Her eyes of a dark violet blue, drooped heavily beneath their black and curling lashes, if any one from the numerous stalls addressed her; for a small splint basket on her arm, new and perfectly empty, was a sure indication that the child had been sent to make purchase; while her timid air-the blush that came and went on her face-bespoke as plainly that she was altogether unaccustomed to the scene, and had no regular place at which to make her humble bargains. The child seemed a waif cast upon the market; and she was so beautiful, notwithstanding her humble dress of faded and darned calico, that at almost every stand she was challenged pleasantly to pause and fill her basket. But she only cast down her eyes and blushed more deeply, as with her little bare feet she hurried on through the labyrinth of stalls, toward that portion of the market occupied by the huckster-women. Here she began to slacken her pace, and to look about her with no inconsiderable anxiety. 66 What do you want, little girl; anything in my way?" was repeated to her once or twice as she moved forward. At each of these challenges she would pause, look earnestly into the face of the speaker, and then pass on with a faint wave of the head, that expressed something of sad and timid disappointment. There At length the child-for she seemed scarcely more than that was growing pale, and her eyes turned with a sort of sharp anxiety from one face to another, when suddenly they fell upon the buxom old huckster-woman, whose stall we have described. was something in the good dame's appearance that brought an eager and satisfied look to that pale face. She drew close to the stand, and stood for some seconds, gazing timidly on the old woman. It was a pleasant face, and a comfortable, portly form enough, that the timid girl gazed upon. Smooth and comely were the full and rounded cheeks, with their rich autumn color, dimpled like an over-ripe apple. Fat and good-humored enough to defy wrinkles, the face looked far too rosy for the thick, grey hair that was shaded, not concealed, by a cap of clear white muslin, with a broad, deep border, and tabs that met like a snowy girth to support the firm, double chin. Never did your eyes dwell upon a chin so full of health and good humor as that. It sloped with a sleek, smiling grace down from the plump mouth, and rolled with a soft, white wave into the neck, scarcely leaving an outline, or the want of one, before it was lost in the white of that muslin kerchief, folded so neatly beneath the ample bosom of her gown. Then the broad linen apron of blue and white check, girding her waist, and flowing over the smooth rotundity of person, was a living proof of the ripeness and wholesome state of her merchandise.— I tell you, reader, that woman, take her for all in all, was one to draw the attention, aye, and the love of a child, who had come forth barefooted and alone in search of kindness. RALPH HOYT. Mr. Horт, the author of a number of poems which have become popular favorites through their spirit and sincerity, is a clergyman of the Protestant Episcopal Church in New York. He is a native of the city. His early years were passed in the country on Long Island. He had the benefit of a good education, and after some practice at various mechanical pursuits, became himself a teacher in turn, wrote occasionally for the newspapers, and in 1842 took orders in the church. In 1846 the church of the Good Shepherd was organized as the result of the missionary labors of Mr. Hoyt, who has since continued its minister, supporting its feeble fortunes through many privations. He has latterly resided at a cottage pleasantly situated on the high ground in the rear of the Palisades, at the village of Fort Lee, New Jersey, opposite New York; and he has there shown his accustomed spirit and activity, his humble home being partly the work of his own hands, while a simple but convenient church, of small but sufficient dimensions, on the main street of the village, has been built by his own labor and ingenuity, with moderate aid from his friends. He holds religious services there a part of each Sunday. Aalph Dayt Mr. Hoyt's poems are simple in expression, and of a delicate moral or devout sentiment. They touch tenderly upon the disappointments of life, with a sorrowful refrain. In another mood his verse is hopeful and animated. The title of his longest poem, The Chaunt of Life, which is but a fragmentary composition, indicates the burden of his song; which is of the common feelings, longings, and experiences of the world. A cheerful love of nature, an eye for the picturesque, a quaint originality of expression, are exhibited in many of his poems, which have already found their way into the popular collections of the school-books. SNOW; A WINTER SKETCH. The blessed morn has come again; Taps at the slumberer's window pane, Break, break from the enchanter's chain, Away, away! "Tis winter, yet there is no sound Of winds upon their battle-ground, The snow is falling,-all around The jocund fields would masquerade; Tree, shrub, and lawn, and lonely glade And joined the revel, all arrayed So white and clean. E'en the old posts, that hold the bars Forgetful of their wintry wars, And age sedate, High capped, and plumed, like white hussars, The drifts are hanging by the sill, The hay-stack has become a hill; The wagon, loaded for the mill Maria brings the water-pail, But where's the well! Like magic of a fairy tale, Most strange to tell, All vanished, curb, and crank, and rail! How deep it fell! The barn-yard gentry, musing, chime Like Memnon's music of old time So marbled they-and so sublime Good Ruth has called the younker folk Full welcome was the word she spoke, Now rises from around the fire Ye giddy sons of mirth, retire! A hymn to the Eternal Sire The patriarchal Book divine, |