not necessary to the preservation of a people's memory or the perpetuity of a people's influence. The nation whose opening effulgence and meridian splendour are embalmed in the pages of a Livy, and whose decrepitude and decline are recorded by the pen of a Tacitus, is less indebted for her fame to the power of her arms and the wisdom of her counsels than to the elegance of her historical authors. Would not the bays of ancient Greece long since have been faded or obscured, if the genial and kindly influences of Homer, Herodotus, and Thucydides had been withdrawn? Such events as the Persian and Peloponnesian wars and the expeditions of Alexander, which comprise the principal exploits of that celebrated people during the lapse of three centuries-illustrious as they are-may have been surpassed by nations whose memory, not perpetuated by genius, is lost in the mists of remote antiquity. A smile may perhaps be excited at an allusion to the ever enduring fame of Greece and Rome, with relation to the domestic transactions of Pennsylvania; but it would not be improper before the contemptuousness of ridicule be indulged, that our history, before, during, and since the revolution, be fairly examined and truly known. Genuine philosophy unfettered by the trammels of education and uninfluenced by eclat, will coolly scan premises and investigate facts, before she will pronounce a decisive judgment. In imitating this prudence let us be guided by no blind or vainglorious partiality, but contemplate with calmness, some of the broad lines of the image which it will be the duty of our historians to exhibit.

STANZAS.

BY S. L. FAIRFIELD.

My father died ere I could tell

The love my young heart felt for him: My sister like a blossom fell;

Her cheek grew cold, her blue eye dim, Just as the hallowed hours came by,

When she was dearest unto me;
And vale and stream and wood and sky
Were beautiful as Araby.

And, one by one, the friends of youth
Departed to the land of dreams:

And soon I felt that friends, in sooth,

Were few as flowers by mountain streams; And solitude come o'er me then,

And early I was taught to treasure

Lone thoughts in glimmering wood and glen,
Now they are mine in utmost measure.
But boyhood's sorrows, though they leave
Their shadows on the spirit's dial,
Cannot by their deep spell bereave-
They herald but a darker trial;
And such 'tis mine e'en now to bear

In the sweet radiance of thine eye,
And 'tis the wildness of despair

To paint vain love that cannot die. Yet thus it must be-like the flower, That sheds amid the dusky night The rays it drank at mid-day hour,

My spirit pours abroad its light,
When all the beauty and the bloom,

The blessedness of love hath gone,
And left the darkness of the tomb,
Upon the glory of its throne.
The hour hath come-it cannot part-
Deterring pride-one hurried deed
Hath fixed its seal upon my heart,

And ever it must throb and bleed,
Till life, and love, and anguish o'er,
The spirit soars to its first birth,

And meets on heaven's own peaceful shore
The heart it loved too well on earth.

Truth stands before him in a full, clear blaze,
An intellectual sunbeam, and his eye

Can look upon it with unbending gaze,

And its minutest lineaments descry.-Percival.

AFTER the death of an ancient relative, who seemed to take much delight in the contemplation of human life, and to note any remarkable events that might throw light upon the character of his species, a number of curious manuscripts were found in his study, one of which bore the above title, and is as follows:

"Having leisure, and prompted by the curiosity of our nature, I set out upon a voyage to distant countries and nations, to behold, with my own eyes, the varied beauty, the magnificent scenery, and multiplied phenomena which nature has lavished so profusely over the visible universe; to visit those spots which the study of youth had rendered memorable as the theatre of heroic action; to view man in his different gradations of improvement, and meditate upon those causes, which, operating on the flexibility of his nature, mould and fashion him into a being of such infinite diversity. The charm of novelty gradually subsiding, and wearied with the toil and privation of such a pilgrimage, I returned to my native home. But 't is distance lends enchantment to the view,' and the face of nature was now changed, the

dream of life had vanished; and the unhallowed workings of undignified passions, obscuring the brightest horizon, the pang of grief that seems even to gnaw the heart of beauty itself, and the gloomy abodes of misery and human wretchedness, which I had seen, threw me in a solemn and profound meditation. There was a voice that whispered within me: Man is born to mourn, the noblest sons of Adam are doomed to taste the cup of bitterness -yes, by the inexorable decrees of the Omnipotent, woes and joys are inwrought in the human heart: spem vultu simulat, premit altum corde dolorem.' Wholly absorbed with these thoughts, I unconsciously arrived in a beautiful grove of majestic oaks, under whose thick foliage I took shelter from the burning rays of the sun. The delicious zephyrs, that fanned my wearied brow, soon lulled me into a deep slumber. Methought I saw an immense assembly of people before me, whom, I understood, a phalanx of distinguished sages where to entertain with their schemes and devices for the improvement of human felicity. As this was a subject deeply interesting to me, I rejoiced at this opportunity of hearing the views of these good and learned men. When I was about entering the hall, my attention was arrested by a clear and exceedingly sweet voice behind me, saying, 'Follow me.' Its rich and melodious tones touched my heart; and, when I looked around, I beheld one of the loveliest objects in creation. Plain, neat, and simple in attire, her stature was a perfect symmetry of elegance and grace; her countenance glowed with the most exquisite beauty, and ten thousand delicacies. Fear and suspicion were extinct, in the unbounded confidence and raptures which I felt. She again bade me follow her; and waving a golden sceptre in her hand, I instinctively obeyed. She moved with a blazing torch before her,