Pompey, Brutus, Cato, Atticus, Livy, Cicero, Horace, Virgil, Hortensius, Augustus, and Marcus Varro, as contemporaries. The close observer of human nature, who takes nothing on trust, who, undazzled by the lustre, calmly inquires into the use, will not be contented with a bare examination of the causes that conspired to produce such a marvellous union of talent, but will farther ask how it happened, that men whose examples have been so fertile of instruction to future ages, were so barren of improvement and utility to their own. For it must be admitted, that Rome was then cruelly divided against herself, split into factions, and torn to pieces by a most bloody civil war, at the very moment she was in proud possession of all this profusion of talents, by which she was consumed rather than comforted, and scorched rather than enlightened. Perhaps the conclusion forced upon us, by a review of this period, is neither consolatory nor honorable to our nature. It would seem to be this that a state of civil freedom is absolutely essential to the training up and furnishing of great and noble minds; but that society has no guaranty that minds so formed shall not aspire to govern rather than obey; no security that they shall not affect a greatness greater than the laws, and ultimately destroy that very freedom to which alone they were indebted for their superiority. Such men have too often begun by subjecting all things to their country, and ended by subjecting their country to themselves. The result of these inquiries seems briefly this: nothing but a benevolent desire to render the increase of our mental power useful to those around us, can fully warrant and sustain us in the highest efforts necessary for its attainment; and the possession of this power by one or many in the state, is no security that it will not be wofully perverted to the destruction of that very liberty which has warmed it into being. Nor is there any effectual safeguard against this perversion, but the power of public sentiment, of which public we form a part, and on whose sentiments we may continually exert an influence, to purify, elevate, and strengthen it, till no aspiring innovator shall dare, for base purposes, to lift his hand or voice against it. The illustrations I have chosen, have all been taken from the highest sphere of mental action-the power of mind over mind. But the appropriateness of the principles of benevolence for the control of this power, when brought to energize in other departments, may at once be made obvious. If the question be asked, 'Whether the creation, by mechanical skill, or in other words by the power of mind, of labor-saving machinery is to be esteemed a blessing or a curse,' so far as our own happy country is concerned, it may be easily settled. For until our population reaches that highest possible amount, compatible with the resources of the country, until every rood of ground supports its man,' and, in order to do so, is not only reclaimed from its wildness, but receives the highest improvement from the hand of cultivation of which it is susceptible until then, manifestly, every contrivance for the saving of labor must be, on the whole, benevolent, and none need want for profitable employment. So, too, of that prodigy of mental invention, the safety-lamp of Sir Humphrey Davy; if the inquiry be, whether an invention so directly calculated to rescue life from the most dis tressing peril, falls within the line of approval, by the principle above stated, it cannot seriously be questioned. The perversion of its benefits, by those too eager for the promotion of their self-interest, is at most an incidental, and not a necessary or usual, concomitant; and it no more deserves mention, as detracting from the real merit of the invention, than does the incidental though unanticipated result, that the use of gunpowder has made warfare less destructive of human life, augment the claims of the monk who invented it, with so contrary a design, to be considered a merciful benefactor of mankind. Let not then the ardor of inventive genius or mechanical skill be quenched by any cold uncertainties of perversion, to which there is nothing but what may be equally exposed. A noble field here lies open to the ingenuity of our countrymen. Our prayer is, that Franklin, who, by the power of mind, guided the fires of heaven innocuous, and Fulton, who, by the same power, caused the fires of earth to evolve a force which has increased almost an hundred fold the facilities of intercourse, and the dominion of man, may be but the morning stars of brighter succeeding luminaries. We close with the remark — and we would do it with becoming reverence that while we seek to enlarge the sphere and increase the power of mental action, so long as we control it by the principle here suggested, we are rising to the contemplation, and with filial piety are imitating the excellence, of that Infinite Being, the source of all intelligence, the unlimited extent of whose power would render him to all unutterably dreadful, were not the assurance perfect, that his power is always directed by benevolence. BESIDE the rushing Babylonian streams, With the blue summer sky above us glowing, Through the balm-breathing citron groves in bloom, A captive band, in bitterness we wept; And to the zephyrs, freighted with perfume, Poured forth our bitter, bitter sighs for thee, O hallowed Zion! On the willow tree Our long-neglected harps swayed to and fro, In the soft winds which thrilled their chords among, Yet we sang not, though bidden by the foe, Nor played the strains which once we played and sung. Utica, (N. Y.,) February, 1838. He W. R. VOL. XI. 56 то MY MOTHER. There is an endearing tenderness in the love of a mother to her son, that transcends all other affections of the heart. It is neither to be chilled by selfishness, nor daunted by danger, nor weakened by worthlessness, nor stifled by ingratitude. She will sacrifice every comfort to his convenience: she will surrender every pleasure to his enjoyment; she will glory in his fame, and exult in his prosperity; and if misfortune overtake him, he will be dearer to her from misfortune; and if disgrace settle upon his name, she will still love and cherish him, in spite of his disgrace; and if all the world boside cast him off, she will be all the world to him.' THE SKETCH BOOK. I. MY MOTHER! — 't is no poet's pen indites a lay to thee, If. My fragile bark is briefly moored from life's eventful blast, III. I see the cradled form of one, whose features are my own, IV. Soon from his cradle starts the babe, a happy, careless boy; But soon he sees the church-yard take that father to its clod, And now his arts essay to stem the spirit's overflow, That channels the pale cheek of her whom death has left in wo; VII. Alas, alas! that childish love and piety should be Such short-lived tenants of the heart, beyond the nursery; Oh, saddest of time's ravages! sin's bitterest control! Our hardening frames but harder make the casement of the soul. VIII. I see him now, yet why portray a path known unto all, IX. If aught of light has beaconed him in safety from its snares, E. W. H. MY LOG-BOOK: OR PASSAGES FROM THE JOURNAL OF AN OFFICER IN THE UNITED STATES' NAVY. NUMBER ONE. 'How much alike are all you navy officers!' said a lady one day to me. The remark was just. Exclusive professions, whether civil or military, holy or profane, have, in general, a tendency to stamp a sameness and equiformity, an air of the shop,' upon the outward manner, and even upon the intrinsic character, of their members; I mean those professions whose members are educated exclusively for that one particular calling; grow up together, and pass a great portion of their lives intimately connected with each other, but almost disconnected, or but very slightly interested, with the rest of the world. Professions cloisteral-lay monasteries. Thus, few professions are more ultra-exclusive than the naval. An officer enters the service at an early age, with a mind ductile to impressions, unexercised and immature, and ignorant of the world and its people, their interests and pursuits. From the pedagogue and the accidence, he comes on board the ship of war. He is now within his wooden cloisters. He is in his monastery militant-confined to his own peculiar duties, his own exclusive associates. From the petted and wayward boy, he is at once transformed to the man; with the rights, the duties, and the responsibilities of manhood, and all its necessities for firmness, energy, and self-reliance. He receives his first strong impressions; his character forms itself upon the models he sees around. He naturally imbibes the prejudices of his naval companions, for he has had no opportunities to discover their errors; their modes of thought, for he has not yet learned to think for himself; their manners, for he is inexperienced to society; and even their feelings, for feelings are often formed by sympathy alone. The character thus formed is generally formed for life. His once waxen mind has become hardened, by his profession, to marble. The naval stamp is upon it, ineffaceably. He is like all in his little community, but he is like none else. His individuality is merged in what we may term a thorough professionality. But I think this is not to be lamented. That similarity of habit, feeling, thought that unity of interest and purpose-make the true esprit de corps, which strengthens and perfects the naval system, and weds officers and service imperdibly together. General society, too, is a gainer. When an officer strays into the great world, by being different from every one there, he passes for a kind of original; he is odd, piquant, and amusing. There is a freshness in his frank, off-hand, devil-may-care manner; and his ignorance of the forms and bienséances of society is considered only a diverting obliquity. The fair lady, then, though I sadly fear her remark was dictated in a spirit of vexation, was right as to the general fact. But there is no rule without its exception. My old messmates of the sloop of war —, during her first cruise in the Mediterranean, in the years 1825-9 proved an exception to this; for a more original set of young gentlemen' never were cribbed together within the same narrow bulk-heads. In the -'s steerage, almost every state had its representative. 'Down Easters' were antagonized, almost antipodally, with middies who had been 'raised' in the Far West'- Virginians with 'Hooshiers' - Georgians with 'Wolverines.' Tough knots they were, those midshipmen! Many had been educated for other professions, and, entering the navy later in life than usual, they never amalgamated sufficiently to sink their peculiarities of nature and education. However, they lived together within their wooden walls in tolerable harmony, though unlike. The oddities of each were matter of amusement to the whole; and this, perhaps, tended to keep them in mutual good humor. Then too, there was one predilection they possessed, with striking unanimity; a glorious bond of sympathy, I may call it a true intermingling of the spiritual influences an involution of all the particular negatives of their different natures into one integral positive; in short, a decided and much-cherished love for the good Old Columbia' of our very worthy Uncle Sam. Here they met on equal ground; that is, they all equally liked it, though with a difference. Warm, with sugar, tickled the droughty palates of some; others were better pleased with it cold; tolerably diluted, met the approbation of a select minority; while, I regret to say, the greater number used the element, (not always of the purest, which perhaps was their excuse,) in very homoeopathic quantities. But on the whole, they got on marvellously well. Poor fellows! fond as they were of their 'bottle,' and it may be of their lass,' yet truer, kinder friends, or more honorable enemies, a man could never hope to find. But death has been busy among them! A few, a precious few, are still living, (long may they live!) and pleasantly crooking their necks with gazing upon the golden 'swab' that adorns their right shoulders; yet the greater number of my old messmates have long since gone aloft'· promoted, let me piously hope, to a higher station, in a better world. Fain would I linger awhile, in sorrowful meditation, as I recall their memories from the past; and much do I long for that exquisite power of portrait painting, whieh, with a few delicate strokes, conveys at once an exact and life-like resemblance, that I might present them to my readers as I once knew them, in the bloom of young manhood, and in all the rich raciness of their characters. But alas! my portraits — rudest chalk sketches - will be at best, I fear, but faint, unfinished outlines - perhaps merest caricatures. Conscience almost rebukes me. It seems so like outrage upon the dead. I seem to hear the sorrowful reproaches of my defunct messmates, in the sighings of the wind. I imagine the frown of our august caterer, could the grave yield forth its victim, upon detecting me-the youngster of the mess-in the audacious attempt to hold up even a profile of his prominent features to the idle gaze of the 'general!' But who can resist their fate? This now is mine, and TUDOR 'first in honor as in place''Cater of the Mess' we will commence with thee, in spite of thy frowning shade. Who could ever forget that form, ponderous as an elephant's? Thy face, square and massive as the royal lion's? Thy features, large |