With famed Thermopyle will vie Memorials that will not stand Is blotted from the scroll of Fame. New York, May, 1840. fusion. They are indeed numberless, and in contemplating them we cannot but remember, and, remembering, rejoice, that in our country there must be but few who can fully realize those inimitably pathetic lines "Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar; By poverty's unconquerable bar; In life's low vale remote, hath pined alone; 66 Beattie. We must indeed allow, that a few such exist, if for no other purpose than for the relief of that kind of philanthropy which has for its object the rescue of "gems" from ocean caves," and " fragrant flowers" from "desert airs." Saving these, we may set it down as a truism, "he that will may learn." faculties that man degenerates; and that, on the contrary, by their right use, he must advance step by step towards perfection. This right use of our faculties may therefore be regarded as almost synonymous with their indefinite development or improvement; and either the one or the other may be considered the object of our being, and of course If this is granted the proper end of all education. To develop, improve, and perfect all our facul- But upon these means and inducements we can ties, both moral and intellectual, is a work common dwell no longer. In an article like the present we to all; and its performance, acccording to the va- must necessarily prescribe to ourselves some limits. ried ability which God has given us, is a solemn We will therefore discard many topics which might duty-the obligation of which we cannot remove, well be considered, and confine ourselves princithough we may shrink from and forget it. To pally, in what we have yet to say, to the way in arouse the sleeper, to encourage the faint-hearted, which the work of self-cultivation should be carand humbly to direct him who carefully seeks to ried on. This, undoubtedly, should be adapted to fulfil his duty and to "act well his part," is the ob- the end sought to be accomplished. What is that ject of the present article. To this end we invite end? Is it not unlimited improvement? There are attention to that part of this great work of develop- indeed those who believe, or pretend to believe, ment and improvement, which is carried on out of that man is gradually degenerating-that his course those labor-saving machines called schools, which from age to age is irresistibly downward. The rests peculiarly upon one's own self, and which broad light of experience teaches a contrary bemay therefore very properly be denominated Self-lief. It reveals that it is by the perversion of his Education. It cannot be denied that this is, and must ever be, the great education of every people, and that from it we are to expect the greatest and most beneficial results. Let no one apprehend that we design saying aught against schools and colleges. We are well aware that the aids which they afford save many an hour of toil, which, for the want of them, would have been spent in harassing and perhaps fruitless investigation; but to be true, it becomes at once all important, in order nevertheless their instruction seems, in our eye, to that our efforts in the work of Self-Education may be but a mere drop in the sea, when compared with be successful and our progress rapid, that we should that which is obtained in the every-day journey- labor to understand and to bring out in due proporings of life, as well by those who have left the tion all our faculties, and to present a perfect harwalks of the academy, as by those who have never mony in the constitution of our nature. entered their pleasant and consecrated shades. We constitution, in the language of a modern French leave the one for the otherphilosopher, (Degerando,) whose classification, though general, is sufficiently accurate for our purpose, consists of "the intellectual faculties, to direct our steps in the search after truth-the moral powers pointing to duty as their peculiar end, Here, in the outset, let us for a moment advert and virtue as their peculiar treasure-the affecto the means of Self-Education, and the induce- tions connecting man with his fellow, and teaching ments to lay hold of them, which a beneficent Pro-him to be happy in seeking to make others so-and vidence has showered around us in immense pro- the religious sentiments looking towards Heaven "as he that leaves A shallow plash, to plunge him in the deep, Shakspeare. This and connecting him with his God." It is plain, work out through them the results which we wish that that education must be radically and most per- to happen. If this is true—and who will doubt its niciously defective, that does not include the de- truth?-the devotee of imagination cannot but exvelopment of all these faculties within its range. pect to lead a life of perpetual disquietude-to be To cultivate the intellect, and, at the same time to engaged in continual conflict with stern and sad neglect the affections, the moral feelings, and the realities and he ought to consider himself exreligious sentiments, or either of these last, while tremely fortunate if, among other conflicts, he has the others are abandoned, would at once destroy not to spend his strength in a fruitless battery of every trace of mental symmetry, and, as is too the walls of a madhouse. To the contrary of all often in reality the case, render man unfit for that this we need only remark, that a proper cultivation high standing, in the great scale of being, which of the imagination will prove an ornament of the Creator has assigned him, and worthy of the grace, and a crown of glory." appellation a monster." He, then, who would Suppose, again, memory to be the favorite faeducate himself, should so shape his course, and so culty; then the mind becomes merely a capacious order his efforts, that the constitutional proportion lumber-room, filled with names and dates, things, and beauty of his nature may be preserved—that new and old, but mostly the latter; snatches of the handy-work of God may not be so marred that poetry and philosophy, quaint sayings, and sentenone would judge demons to have had more to do in ces in unknown tongues—or, as Hudibras hath it, its construction, than Him who is perfect harmony in every respect. 66 "Phrase that time hath flung away, Ode and elegy and sonnet." Such an one is always "somebody else." He has entirely lost his originality; and if he acts at all, which is very doubtful, he plays all characters by turns, according as this or that recollection is uppermost in his mind. But to proceed still farther: not only these grand divisions, (for the sake of convenience speaking metaphorically of that which is wholly indivisible,) but also the various subdivisions, should be developed in their just and true relations, so that the temple of the mind, richly decorated, thoroughly furnished and perfected in all things, may present to the eye most beautiful proportions in every part. Take, as another example, the cultivation of the In order to show the necessity of thus leading out reasoning powers. Where this swallows up every the various properties of the mind, in harmony thing else, how soon does one become absolutely with each other, let us dwell for a moment on the lost in a fabric of one's own construction! Doubt evil effects which must result from a contrary and darkness reign triumphant. Some have been course. For example, suppose one to make an known to doubt even their own existence; and it is idol of his imagination-to become a voluntary fresh in the recollection of almost every one, that victim to perpetual indulgence in the way of day-men, bowing at an altar erected to Reason, have dreams, air-castles, and fiction-reading; can we denied the existence of a God, and have assigned imagine a course more wretchedly injurious? To all this beautiful and harmonious creation to the say nothing of the time thus lost, which might have dominion of blind chance. been spent in vigorous and profitable action, it un- In the same manner we might enumerate all the fits the mind for close attention to and rigid inves- mental powers, and show what exceedingly injutigation of substantial, every-day matters. Im-rious effects would result from the exclusive or provement results not from the light, airy fabrics undue cultivation of any one, to the entire or parof the imagination; it must be drawn from the deep tial neglect of the rest. The principles which wells of sober truth. We must reflect, study, plan; govern in monarchies and aristocracies, as they but we must also act. Care must then be taken are evil when applied to the empires of men, so that the objects of our study and reflection may are they evil when applied to the empire of the also be the objects of our action. And can we act mind. The principle of democratic equality is the out the gorgeous visions and high-wrought schemes only one which deserves universal credit. Let it of fancy? Can we occupy the castle that is framed then be applied to the properties of the mind, of air? Ah! no. This is a working-day world—giving to each its portion of exercise in due seafull of every-day matters, each, all, requiring son, and the result will be a perfect combination of quick, energetic action. Not a moment passes but beauty, simplicity, strength, and utility. something is to be done. We must act in the pre- Here let us guard against an evil into which we sent for the future, and with the present we must may easily fall, in our haste to find ways and work out the future. We cannot wish for a re- means for the exercise of our various powers sult, and then imagine the contingencies which are By this we mean a habit of superficial investigato bring it about, and then again glide in with the tion. There is a something within us which decurrent, and aid, by our action, in its accomplish-lights to hurry over things-a kind of discursive No! Contingencies are around and about faculty which wanders without weariness and with We must take them as they are, and then incredible facility over every thing, but fasters ment. us. upon nothing. We are too eager, hasty, and im- | in the words of the king of German poets, (Goethe) patient. This will never do. True, we may ac- that if we quire knowledge, but it is vague and uncertain; we see nothing clearly; we grasp nothing safely and surely. We must learn to wait, to be patient, to gather up our resources. For if we would so fasten upon any thing as to make it our own-if we would apprehend it in all its length and breadth and heighth and depth-in its every purpose and bearing-we must throw aside every thing that would distract the attention, and dwell upon it with steady, penetrating, and long-continued gaze. But here there is another and a contrary evil to be guarded against. We must not confine ourselves to one subject. By so doing, we may indeed arrive at the comely proportions of a bean-rod, or the tapering majesty of a liberty-pole, but never will we obtain the broad base and lofty elevation of a pyramid, that shall endure for ages-the wonder and admiration of all people. As far as in us lies we must travel over the whole field of knowledge. We must always remember what Channing said in his essay upon the character of Milton, that "mind is in its own nature diffusive. Its object is the universe, which is strictly one, or bound together by infinite connections and correspondencies: and accordingly its natural progress is from one field of thought to another; and wherever original power or creative genius exists, the mind, far from being distracted or oppressed by the variety of its acquisitions, will see more and more bearings, and hidden and beautiful analogies, in all the objects of knowledge; will see mutual light shed from truth to truth, and will compel as with a kingly power, whatever it understands, to yield some tribute of proof, or illustration, or splendor, to whatever topic it would unfold." But we have been inadvertently led on to a greater length than we at first intended. In conclusion we would ask, why should not all engage with might and main in this great work of self-cultivation? Why should he who has obtained a handful of instruction from his parents, the school, or the college, sit down in inglorious ease, vainly imagining that his work is done? And why should he, who has not even this handful to boast of, be content to remain in ignorance, or despair of ultimate success? Are not the means sufficient, and the aids abundant? Access to them may indeed be more easy to one than to another; but after all, whether they are made use of or not, depends upon one's own self. Are not the inducements great? Is not the reward priceless? Why should we hesitate? True, there are difficulties to encounterobstacles to surmount. But experience teaches that "difficulty is a friend," and that the greatest obstacles become molehills before uniform and longcontinued efforts. To begin is the great work. "Tis the first step which costs." We again ask, why should we hesitate? Let us always remember "Lose this day loitering-'twill be the same story Let us also heedingly listen to his fervent exhortation "Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute- A CITIZEN OF OHIO. SHADOWS. As sunshine weds with shade."-Alciphron. I love to lay me, on a Summer's day, How silently they pass me by Those mimic cohorts of the sky! They seem in banner'd pomp to sweep the plain, Whilst I, upon their wings am borne again And strove to guide them on their path! Have taught me truths, and truths I might not know Go ye and mark, slow sailing now on high, It throws the sunbeam to its parent sky, Whilst all is darkened here below. The eagle sailing on his tireless wing, The sun low sinking in the west, distils Thus life hath too her warning gloom, With light and darkness fraught- The tell-tale blush on beauty's cheek, THOUGHTS AND REFLECTIONS. The men of rank and station in olden times, were accustomed to look down upon the people as made for them, as creatures far below them in the scale of being, and only useful as subservient to their interests. Vain and frivolous idea! Not only these, the glittering dew-drops of the hour, but even all the noblest and wisest men of the past, have owed their station and existence to the spirit of the age-the character of the mighty people. If Luther had not preached the doctrines of the Reformation, another would have done so; if he had lived two hundred years before, any attempts at a reformation would have been vain, and he would, perhaps, have lived in obscurity; because, in the one case, the people were prepared for such a change, and in the other they were not. All the mighty men of the past, whether great and good, or evil, have owed their existence, as such, to the people beneath them. Their fame and the record of their deeds, they owe to the writers. These are the incarnations of the spirit among the people: their writings are the harp-strings, over which the dead and solemn past breathes the deeds of its children, and its lessons of experience to the living present. But for them, the deeds of proud kings and warriors would be forgotten, and their very names would be buried in oblivion. They are the true kings of the earth; their reign and power is from generation to generation; and each day as the world grows wiser and better, the march of their influence is onward-onward. The rea A child looks upon any change with pleasure; as we grow older, we view it with more and more distrust and dislike. Associations of the past have thrown their golden hues about the present condition of things; and alas! experience has taught us by the continual failure of our hopes, how much we had to fear, and how little happiness to expect, from any change whatever in our circumstances and condition. In the past, we have much, both in the world of action and that of thought, which is known only to ourselves, and to Him who knows all things. The amount increases of course, as we grow older; and a circumstance which adds greatly to its increase is, that each year more and more of those of the same age as ourselves are dead; so that every day we have less sympathy and communion of thought with the living, and more with the dead, and with Him who is present everywhere. This alone, I should suppose, would turn the thoughts of the old from this world to the world of spirits from the now, to the after-death. We take much more pleasure in writing verses, than in writing prose. We view, with satisfaction, any work that we have performed, but especially what we have written— particularly so, when just finished. But this is much more the case with poetry than with prose; for to the mere transcription of the thought, we have added a new thing, entirely independent-viz:-the measure. This pleasure often causes a writer to imagine that to be poetry which is nothing more than verse: hence, one reason for the quantity of mere rhyme which has been palmed upon the world as poetry. This, with the addition of self-esteem, explains a circumstance in Goethe's life. He says, “we boys had a meetof his own making. And here I was struck with something ing on Sunday, at which every one was to produce verses strange, which long disquieted me. My poems, such as they were, I could not but hold for the best. But I soon made out that my competitors, who produced very lame things, were alike in this, and thought no less of themselves." A great conqueror must be, almost necessarily, a cruel man: Cæsar, Hannibal, Bonaparte, and Frederic, in their career of ambition, gave no thought to the sufferings of their men. The policy of Frederic and Bonaparte, says Lord Brougham, "consisted in rapidly moving vast masses of troops, and always bringing a superior force to bear upon the point of attack." To manage this in all cases, cruelty the warfare of all the great warriors, we will find it to have was almost a necessary concomitant; and if we examine I have observed that persons who are sensitive on any particular point, sometimes introduce the subject in question, of their own accord; and I have heard others remark been essentially, but a modification of this. Whilst planafterwards, that they wondered at their doing so. ning any attempt, they left out of the calculation entirely, son is, I imagine, the dread of the disagreeable feelings the sufferings of their troops. How false then is military which the abrupt introduction of the subject, by another, glory! accompanied as it is, by misery, bloodshed and would cause them. By introducing it themselves, they forestall and prevent this, and are able to bring it forward in a delicate and bearable manner. I have also observed that persons possessing any foible or bad quality, are apt to accuse others of having the same. This arises, perhaps, from the fact that they are conscious of its presence and mode of action in themselves, and knowing its mode of action, are therefore apt to observe in others things evincing its existence. And even if they perceive any actions only slightly similar to those which evince its presence in themselves, they are apt to attribute them to its influence, though they be the result of an entirely different impulse. desolation. Conquest's sword is only glorious, When the blood with which it streams, Nature's chartered right redeems. In thy garland-Washington!" Though based upon bloodshed, and as false as military gl ry is, from our very childhood we are taught to admire it i diers being the admiration and imitation of almost all children. This has been one cause of the frequency of wars, persons being brought up from early childhood, to view them The child and the old man resemble each other, in the with interest and admiration, instead of detestation and horcircumstance of the one being near to the eternity of the ror. War is, however, approaching every day, nearer and future, and the other to that of the past. This circum-nearer to its final end; nations are beginning to perceive stance sheds a holiness over the aspect of each. how much is to be lost by any war, and how little to be gained. As for military glory, by the end of another century, steam will carry it all away." Experience is the only sure basis and test of truth; but still it is liable to fallacy, and its possession is attended by evils. It is the mother of knowledge, but alas! "Sorrow is knowledge: they who know the most With respect to human life, it is as a sunbeam entering a room; the air, which before seemed perfectly pure, is now seen to be full of motes and impurities. With regard to mankind, it is of such a nature that it cannot be imparted; the mind of its possessor is filled with light, but the rest of the world are left in darkness. With respect to the correction of our faults and failings, its indaence as we grow older is not very great; for how many persons do we meet with, pursuing the same wrong course in afe, and possessing the same foibles, when old, which they followed and possessed in their younger days. It is but a comparative word; some would gain as much in a few months, as others, less observant, would gain in so The storm is done, the moon her brilliance throws, - SONG OF THE SEA-BIRD. Our task is accomplished-down, down to the deep, Mid sands of bright gold through the halls of the ocean : Where fond lovers wander by fountain and grove, Nor stain their pure thoughts with one earthly emotion. * many years. Situations and circumstances too, are all-The strain is o'er, the echoes softly die away, powerful in its production. Sometimes, also, we gain more And on the slumbering deep the soft sweet moonbeams play. in one hour, by one event, or by certain circumstances, than we otherwise do during whole years. No greater praise can be given to books; nothing can prove more strongly their essential goodness, and the important place which they occupy in the destiny of man; than the fact, that the Creator of all things has entrusted s holy and everlasting words to the keeping of one of them. This alone sanctifies and raises them above all other earthly things. THE EMIGRANT SHIP. A SKETCH. BY JOHN C. M'CABE. Twas summer evening, and the rosy west Hung like a gorgeous curtain; the bright sun Went down in beauty, and the ocean's breast Seemed like a molten mirror-Priest and Nun, (Borne from their father-land to seek a shore, Where the blest Cross might shed its holy ray, And sacred freedom throw her mantle o'er The wandering stranger, and chase fear away,) Join'd in the vesper chant, whose solemn strain, Went up so sweetly to the blessed skies, That such soft sounds we ne'er might hear again, Till on us break the songs of Paradise. The scene is changed, and loud the storm-god raves! WANTS OF SOCIETY, THE TRUE PATRONS OF ENTERPRISE. The world is full of the monuments of human enterprise. Man is known to society, and remembered by future ages, not for what he is, but for what he has done. He has ever evinced an undying activity; and reason, his proudest attribute, is stamped on all his actions. His rudest handy-work is a breathing symbol of divine intelligence, and speaks the dignity of its author. But man and his works are possessed of strangest nature. "We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works But is this all of man?-all of his works? When the clay tenement has fallen, there is a freed spirit, indestructible, instinct with life. And his works are but the material embodiments of spiritual architecture, even as the body of the soul; and when the eternal granite has crumbled, it yields a vital shade, which wanders throughout the vast empire of intelligence, testifying that the stupid stone, when "newcreated" by man, hath a soul. Thus man and his works die not with their dissolution; they are among and influence men to far distant generations. When we view society through the medium of history, it would seem that man, in all ages, had forgotten to a great extent his high powers and prerogatives, his duties and privileges. His immortal energies have slept on beds of indolence, or have labored according to the misdirection of folly. Often, as an individual, or as society, he appears to be governed by no law. How changeful, how capricious, how chance-like are all things connected with him! We have seen an obscure individual engaged in some simple enterprise-we have passed on and forgotten him; but suddenly, as by magic, a great improvement develops itself; his name is wedded to immortality, and a more enduring glory gathers around it than is seen to encircle those of scnators and kings: he is the benefactor of mankind. We have again beheld wisdom and deep resources concentrated on some mighty project, and as the enterprise rises and deepens and extends before our view, we gaze in swelling |