I BELIEVE Mr. WILDE is a native of Baltimore, and that he was born about the year 1789.* His family are of Saxon origin, and their ancient name was DE WILDE; but his parents were natives of Dublin, and his father was a wholesale, hardware merchant and ironmonger in that city during the American war; near the close of which he emigrated to Maryland, leaving a prosperous business and a large capital in the hands of a partner, by whose bad management they were in a few years both lost.

The childhood of RICHARD HENRY WILDE was passed in Baltimore. He was taught to read by his mother, and received instruction in writing and Latin grammar from a private tutor until he was about seven years old. He afterward attended an academy; but his father's affairs becoming embarrassed, in his eleventh year he was taken home and placed in a store. His constitution was at first tender and delicate. In his infancy he was not expected to live from month to month, and he suffered much from ill health until he was fifteen or sixteen. This induced quiet, retiring, solitary, and studious habits. His mother's example gave him a passion for reading, and all his leisure was devoted to books. The study of poetry was his principal source of pleasure, when he was not more than twelve years old.

About this time his father died; and gathering as much as she could from the wreck of his property, his mother removed to Augusta, Georgia, and commenced there a small business for the support of her family. Here young WILDE, amid the drudgery of trade, taught himself book-keeping, and became familiar with the works in general literature which he could obtain in the meagre libraries of the town, or from his personal friends. The expenses of a large family, and various other causes, reduced the little wealth of his mother; her business became unprofitable, and he resolved to study law. Unable, however, to pay the usual fee for instruction, he kept his design a secret, as far as possible; borrowed some elementary books from his friends, and studied incessantly, tasking himself to read fifty pages, and write five pages of notes, in the form of questions and answers, each day, besides attending to his duties in the store. And, to overcome a natural diffidence, increased by a slight impediment in his speech, he appeared frequently as an actor at a dramatic society, which he had called into existence for this

Most of the facts in this notice of Mr. WILDE were communicated to me by an eminent citizen of Georgia, who has long been intimately acquainted with him. He was uncertain whether Mr. W. was born before the arrival of his parents in America, but believed he was not.

purpose, and to raise a fund to establish a public library.

All this time his older and graver acquaintances, who knew nothing of his designs, naturally confounded him with his thoughtless companions, who sought only amusement, and argued badly of his future life. He bore the injustice in silence, and pursued his secret studies for a year and a half; at the end of which, pale, emaciated, feeble, and with a consumptive cough, he sought a distant court to be examined, that, if rejected, the news of his defeat might not reach his mother. When he arrived, he found he had been wrongly informed, and that the judges had no power to admit him. He met a friend there, however, who was going to the Greene Superior Court; and, on being invited by him to do so, he determined to proceed immediately to that place. It was the March term, for 1809, Mr. Justice EARLY presiding; and the young applicant, totally unknown to every one, save the friend who accompanied him, was at intervals, during three days, subjected to a most rigorous examination. Justice EARLY was well known for his strictness, and the circumstance of a youth leaving his own circuit excited his suspicion; but every question was answered to the satisfaction and even admiration of the examining committee; and he declared that "the young man could not have left his circuit because he was unprepared." His friend certified to the correctness of his moral character; he was admitted without a dissenting voice, and returned in triumph to Augusta. He was at this time under twenty years of age.

His health gradually improved; he applied himself diligently to the study of belles lettres, and to his duties as an advocate, and rapidly rose to eminence; being in a few years made attorney-general of the state. He was remarkable for industry in the preparation of his cases, sound logic, and general urbanity. In forensic disputation, he never indulged in personalities, then too common at the bar, unless in self-defence; but, having studied the characters of his associates, and stored his memory with appropriate quotations, his ridicule was a formidable weapon against all who attacked him.

In the autumn of 1815, when only a fortnight over the age required by law, Mr. WILDE was elected a member of the national House of Representatives. At the next election, all the representatives from Georgia, but one, were defeated, and Mr. WILDE returned to the bar, where he continued, with the exception of a short service in Congress in 1825, until 1828, when he again became a representative, and so continued until 1835. I have not room to trace his character as a politician very closely. On the occasion of the Force Bill, as it

was called, he seceded from a majority of Congress, considering it a measure calculated to produce civil war, and justified himself in a speech of much eloquence. His speeches on the tariff, the relative advantages and disadvantages of a small-note currency, and on the removal of the deposites by General JACKSON, show what are his pretensions to industry and sagacity as a politician.*

Mr. WILDE's opposition to the Force Bill and the removal of the deposites rendered him as unpopular with the JACKSON party in Georgia, as his letter from Virginia had made him with the nullifiers, and at the election of 1834 he was left out of Congress. This afforded him the opportunity he had long desired of going abroad, to recruit his health, much impaired by long and arduous public service, and by repeated attacks of the diseases incident to southern climates. He sailed for Europe in June, 1835, spent two years in travelling through England, France, Belgium, Switzerland, and Italy, and settled during three years more in Florence. Here he occupied himself entirely with literature. The romantic love, the madness, and imprisonment of Tasso had become a subject of curious controversy, and he entered into the investigation "with the enthusiasm of a poet, and the patience and accuracy of a case-hunter," and produced a work, published since his return to the United States, in which the questions concerning Tasso are most ably discussed, and lights are thrown upon them by his letters, and by some of his sonnets, which last are rendered into English with rare

felicity. Having completed his work on Tasse, he turned his attention to the life of DANTE; and having learned incidentally one day, in conversetion with an artist, that an authentic portrait of this great poet, from the pencil of GIOTTO, probably still existed in the Bargello, (anciently both the prison and the palace of the republic,) on a wall, which by some strange neglect or inadvertence had been covered with whitewash, he set on foot a project for its discovery and restoration, which, after several months, was crowned with complete success. This discovery of a veritable portrait of DANTE, in the prime of his days, says Mr. IRVING,† produced throughout Italy some such sensation as, in England, would follow the sudden discovery of a perfectly well-authenticated likeness of SHAKSPEARE; with a difference in intensity, proportioned to the superior sensitiveness of the Italians. Mr. WILDE returned to this country in the autumn of 1840, and is now, I believe, engaged in his biographical work concerning DANTE.

Mr. WILDE's original poems and translations are always graceful and correct. Those that have been published were mostly written while he was a member of Congress, during moments of relaxation, and they have never been printed collectively. Specimens of his translations are excluded, by the plan of this work. His versions from the Italian, Spanish, and French languages, are among the most elegant and scholarly produc tions of their kind, that have been published.

Mr. WILDE was married in 1818, and was left a widower in 1827. He has two sons.

ODE TO EASE.

I NEVER bent at Glory's shrine;
To Wealth I never bow'd the knee;
Beauty has heard no vows of mine;

I love thee, EASE, and only thee;
Beloved of the gods and men,

Sister of Joy and Liberty,
When wilt thou visit me agen;
In shady wood, or silent glen,
By falling stream, or rocky den,

Like those where once I found thee, when,
Despite the ills of Poverty,
And Wisdom's warning prophecy,
I listen'd to thy siren voice,

And made thee mistress of my choice!

I chose thee, EASE! and Glory fled;
For me no more her laurels spread;
Her golden crown shall never shed
Its beams of splendour on my head.

*To show his standing in the House of Representatives, it may be proper to state, that, in 1834, he was voted for as Speaker, with the following result, on the first ballot :-R. H. WILDE, 64; J. K. POLK, 42; J. B. SUTHERLAND, 34; JOHN BELL, 30; scattering, 32. Ultimately Mr. BELL was elected.

And when within the narrow bed,
To Fame and Memory ever dead,

My senseless corpse is thrown:
Nor stately column, sculptured bust,
Nor urn that holds within its trust
The poor remains of mortal dust,
Nor monumental stone,
Nor willow, waving in the gale,
Nor feeble fence, with whiten'd pales
Nor rustic cross, memorial frail,

Shall mark the grave I own.
No lofty deeds in armour wrought;
No hidden truths in science taught;
No undiscover'd regions sought;
No classic page, with learning fraught,
Nor eloquence, nor verse divine,
Nor daring speech, nor high design,
Nor patriotic act of mine

On History's page shall ever shine:
But, all to future ages lost,
Nor even a wreck, tradition toss'd,
Of what I was when valued most
By the few friends whose love I boast,
In after years shall float to shore,
And serve to tell the name I bore.

+ Knickerbocker Magazine, October, 1841.

I chose thee, EASE! and Wealth withdrew,
Indignant at the choice I made,
And, to her first resentment true,

My scorn with tenfold scorn repaid.
Now, noble palace, lofty dome,
Or cheerful, hospitable home,

Are comforts I must never know:
My enemies shall ne'er repine
At pomp or pageantry of mine,
Nor prove, by bowing at my shrine,

Their souls are abject, base, and low.
No wondering crowd shall ever stand
With gazing eye and waving hand,

To mark my train, and pomp, and show:
And, worst of all, I shall not live
To taste the pleasures Wealth can give,
When used to soothe another's wo.
The peasants of my native land
Shall never bless my open hand;
No wandering bard shall celebrate
His patron's hospitable gate:

No war-worn soldier, shatter'd tar,
Nor exile driven from afar,

Nor hapless friend of former years,
Nor widow's prayers, nor orphan's tears,
Nor helpless age relieved from cares,
Nor innocence preserved from snares,
Nor houseless wanderer clothed and fed,
Nor slave from bitter bondage led,
Nor youth to noble actions bred,
Shall call down blessings on my head.
I chose thee, EASE! and yet the while,
So sweet was Beauty's scornful smile,
So fraught with every lovely wile,
Yet seemingly so void of guile,

It did but heighten all her charms;
And, goddess, had I loved thee then
But with the common love of men,
My fickle heart had changed agen,
Even at the very moment when

I woo'd thee to my longing arms:
For never may I hope to meet
A smile so sweet, so heavenly sweet.
I chose thee, EASE! and now for me
No heart shall ever fondly swell,
No voice of rapturous harmony

Awake the music-breathing shell;
Nor tongue, or witching melody

Its love in faltering accents tell;
Nor flushing cheek, nor languid eye,
Nor sportive smile, nor artless sigh,
Confess affection all as well.
No snowy bosom's fall and rise
Shall e'er again enchant my eyes;
No melting lips, profuse of bliss,
Shall ever greet me with a kiss;
Nor balmy breath pour in my ear
The trifles Love delights to hear:
But, living, loveless, hopeless, I
Unmourned and unloved must die.

I chose thee, EASE! and yet to me
Coy and ungrateful thou hast proved;
Though I have sacrificed to thee
Much that was worthy to be loved.

SPIRIT OF THOUGHT! LO! art thou here?
Lord of the false, fond, ceaseless spell
That mocks the heart, the eye, the ear-
Art thou, indeed, of heaven or hell?
In mortal bosoms dost thou dwell,
Self-exiled from thy native sphere ?

Or is the human mind thy cell
Of torment? To inflict and bear

Thy doom?-the doom of all who fell?
Since thou hast sought to prove my skill,
Unquestion'd thou shalt not depart,
Be thy behests or good or ill,

No matter what or whence thou art!
I will commune with thee apart,
Yea! and compel thee to my will-

If thou hast power to yield my heart
What earth and Heaven deny it still.

I know thee, Spirit! thou hast been
Light of my soul by night and day;
All-seeing, though thyself unseen;

My dreams-my thoughts-and what are they,
But visions of a calmer ray?

All! all were thine-and thine between
Each hope that melted fast away,
The throb of anguish, deep and keen!
With thee I've search'd the earth, the sea,
The air, sun, stars, man, nature, time,
Explored the universe with thee,

Plunged to the depths of wo and crime,
Or dared the fearful height to climb,
Where, amid glory none may see

And live, the ETERNAL reigns sublime,
Who is, and was, and is to be!

And I have sought, with thee have sought,
Wisdom's celestial path to tread,
Hung o'er each page with learning fraught;
Question'd the living and the dead:

* The Moslem imagine that SOLOMON acquired dominion over all the orders of the genii-good and evil. It is even believed he sometimes condescended to converse with his new subjects. On this supposition he has been represented interrogating a genius, in the very wise, but very disagreeable mood of mind which led to the conclusion that "All is vanity!" Touching the said genius, the author has not been able to discover whether he or she (even the sex is equivocal) was of Allah or Eblis, and, therefore, left the matter where he found it-in discreet doubt.

was called, he seceded from a majority of Congress, considering it a measure calculated to produce civil war, and justified himself in a speech of much eloquence. His speeches on the tariff, the relative advantages and disadvantages of a small-note currency, and on the removal of the deposites by General JACKSON, show what are his pretensions to industry and sagacity as a politician.*

Mr. WILDE's opposition to the Force Bill and the removal of the deposites rendered him as unpopular with the JACKSON party in Georgia, as his letter from Virginia had made him with the nullifiers, and at the election of 1834 he was left out of Congress. This afforded him the opportunity he had long desired of going abroad, to recruit his health, much impaired by long and arduous public service, and by repeated attacks of the diseases incident to southern climates. He sailed for Europe in June, 1835, spent two years in travelling through England, France, Belgium, Switzerland, and Italy, and settled during three years more in Florence. Here he occupied himself entirely with literature. The romantic love, the madness, and imprisonment of Tasso had become a subject of curious controversy, and he entered into the investigation "with the enthusiasm of a poet, and the patience and accuracy of a case-hunter," and produced a work, published since his return to the United States, in which the questions concerning Tasso are most ably discussed, and lights are thrown upon them by his letters, and by some of his sonnets, which last are rendered into English with rare

felicity. Having completed his work on Tasso, he turned his attention to the life of DANTE; and having learned incidentally one day, in conversation with an artist, that an authentic portrait of this great poet, from the pencil of GIOTTO, probably still existed in the Bargello, (anciently both the prison and the palace of the republic,) on a wall, which by some strange neglect or inadvertence had been covered with whitewash, he set on foot a project for its discovery and restoration, which, after several months, was crowned with complete success. This discovery of a veritable portrait of DANTE, in the prime of his days, says Mr. IRVING,† produced throughout Italy some such sensation as, in England, would follow the sudden discovery of a perfectly well-authenticated likeness of SHAKSPEARE; with a difference in intensity, proportioned to the superior sensitiveness of the Italians. Mr. WILDE returned to this country in the autumn of 1840, and is now, I believe, engaged in his biographical work concerning DANTE.

Mr. WILDE's original poems and translations are always graceful and correct. Those that have been published were mostly written while he was a member of Congress, during moments of relaxation, and they have never been printed collectively. Specimens of his translations are excluded, by the plan of this work. His versions from the Italian, Spanish, and French languages, are among the most elegant and scholarly productions of their kind, that have been published.

Mr. WILDE was married in 1818, and was left a widower in 1827. He has two sons.

ODE TO EASE.

I NEVER bent at Glory's shrine;
To Wealth I never bow'd the knee;
Beauty has heard no vows of mine;

I love thee, EASE, and only thee;
Beloved of the gods and men,

Sister of Joy and Liberty,
When wilt thou visit me agen;
In shady wood, or silent glen,
By falling stream, or rocky den,

Like those where once I found thee, when,
Despite the ills of Poverty,
And Wisdom's warning prophecy,
I listen'd to thy siren voice,

And made thee mistress of my choice!

I chose thee, EASE! and Glory fled;
For me no more her laurels spread;
Her golden crown shall never shed
Its beams of splendour on my head.

*To show his standing in the House of Representatives, it may be proper to state, that, in 1834, he was voted for as Speaker, with the following result, on the first ballot :-R. H. WILDE, 64; J. K. POLK, 42; J. B. SUTHERLAND, 34; John BelL, 30; scattering, 32. Ultimately Mr. BELL was elected.

And when within the narrow bed,
To Fame and Memory ever dead,

My senseless corpse is thrown:
Nor stately column, sculptured bust,
Nor urn that holds within its trust
The poor remains of mortal dust,
Nor monumental stone,
Nor willow, waving in the gale,
Nor feeble fence, with whiten'd pale,
Nor rustic cross, memorial frail,

Shall mark the grave I own.
No lofty deeds in armour wrought;
No hidden truths in science taught;
No undiscover'd regions sought;
No classic page, with learning fraught,
Nor eloquence, nor verse divine,
Nor daring speech, nor high design,
Nor patriotic act of mine

On History's page shall ever shine:
But, all to future ages lost,
Nor even a wreck, tradition toss'd,
Of what I was when valued most
By the few friends whose love I boast,
In after years shall float to shore,
And serve to tell the name I bore.

+ Knickerbocker Magazine, October, 1841.

I chose thee, EASE! and Wealth withdrew,
Indignant at the choice I made,
And, to her first resentment true,

My scorn with tenfold scorn repaid.
Now, noble palace, lofty dome,
Or cheerful, hospitable home,

Are comforts I must never know:
My enemies shall ne'er repine
At pomp or pageantry of mine,
Nor prove, by bowing at my shrine,

Their souls are abject, base, and low.
No wondering crowd shall ever stand
With gazing eye and waving hand,

To mark my train, and pomp, and show: And, worst of all, I shall not live To taste the pleasures Wealth can give, When used to soothe another's wo. The peasants of my native land Shall never bless my open hand; No wandering bard shall celebrate His patron's hospitable gate: No war-worn soldier, shatter'd tar, Nor exile driven from afar,

Nor hapless friend of former years,

Nor widow's prayers, nor orphan's tears,
Nor helpless age relieved from cares,
Nor innocence preserved from snares,
Nor houseless wanderer clothed and fed,
Nor slave from bitter bondage led,
Nor youth to noble actions bred,
Shall call down blessings on my head.
I chose thee, EASE! and yet the while,
So sweet was Beauty's scornful smile,
So fraught with every lovely wile,
Yet seemingly so void of guile,

It did but heighten all her charms;
And, goddess, had I loved thee then
But with the common love of men,
My fickle heart had changed agen,
Even at the very moment when

I woo'd thee to my longing arms:
For never may I hope to meet
A smile so sweet, so heavenly sweet.
I chose thee, EASE! and now for me
No heart shall ever fondly swell,
No voice of rapturous harmony
Awake the music-breathing shell;
Nor tongue, or witching melody

Its love in faltering accents tell;
Nor flushing cheek, nor languid eye,
Nor sportive smile, nor artless sigh,
Confess affection all as well.
No snowy bosom's fall and rise

Shall e'er again enchant my eyes;
No melting lips, profuse of bliss,
Shall ever greet me with a kiss;
Nor balmy breath pour in my ear
The trifles Love delights to hear:
But, living, loveless, hopeless, I
Unmourned and unloved must die.

I chose thee, EASE! and yet to me
Coy and ungrateful thou hast proved;
Though I have sacrificed to thee
Much that was worthy to be loved.

But come again, and I will yet
Thy past ingratitude forget:

O! come again! thy witching powers
Shall claim my solitary hours:
With thee to cheer me, heavenly queen,
And conscience clear, and health serene,
And friends, and books, to banish spleen,
My life should be, as it had been,

A sweet variety of joys;

And Glory's crown, and Beauty's smile,
And treasured hoards should seem the while
The idlest of all human toys.

SOLOMON AND THE GENIUS.*

SPIRIT OF THOUGHT! LO! art thou here?
Lord of the false, fond, ceaseless spell
That mocks the heart, the eye, the ear-
Art thou, indeed, of heaven or hell?
In mortal bosoms dost thou dwell,
Self-exiled from thy native sphere?

Or is the human mind thy cell

Of torment? To inflict and bear

Thy doom?-the doom of all who fell?
Since thou hast sought to prove my skill,
Unquestion'd thou shalt not depart,
Be thy behests or good or ill,

No matter what or whence thou art!
I will commune with thee apart,
Yea! and compel thee to my will-

If thou hast power to yield my heart
What earth and Heaven deny it still.

I know thee, Spirit! thou hast been
Light of my soul by night and day;
All-seeing, though thyself unseen;

My dreams-my thoughts-andwhat are they,
But visions of a calmer ray?

All! all were thine-and thine between
Each hope that melted fast away,
The throb of anguish, deep and keen!
With thee I've search'd the earth, the sea,
The air, sun, stars, man, nature, time,
Explored the universe with thee,

Plunged to the depths of wo and crime,
Or dared the fearful height to climb,
Where, amid glory none may see

And live, the ETERNAL reigns sublime,
Who is, and was, and is to be!

And I have sought, with thee have sought,
Wisdom's celestial path to tread,
Hung o'er each page with learning fraught;
Question'd the living and the dead:

The Moslem imagine that SOLOMON acquired dominion over all the orders of the genii-good and evil. It is even believed he sometimes condescended to converse with his new subjects. On this supposition he has been represented interrogating a genius, in the very wise, but very disagreeable mood of mind which led to the conclusion that "All is vanity!" Touching the said genius, the author has not been able to discover whether he or she (even the sex is equivocal) was of Allah or Eblis, and, therefore, left the matter where he found it-in discreet doubt.