'Tis done!--The spirit moves upon the sea,
Old chaos heaves-Another world shall be--
And men shall find, as ancient sceptres fall,
The safety, they despaired in one, from all.
By the strange swell with which the waters rise,
The ship's mad plunges, and the wheeling skies,
We learn, and from the billows' ruffian play,
That round some stormy cape our course we lay,
Passing with thunderous crash, and darkness drear,
An angry tropic to another sphere.

And never waves illumed by lightnings glare,
Hurled wilder spray athwart the startled air,
Whelmed loftier masts beneath their gulfs profound,
Or from their pitch more victims dashed aground,
Swallowed more wealth, or on their rockbound coast
More wrecks sublime of lordliest galleys tost.
All widowed realms with exiled kings are rife
Exchanging outcast lords in wanton strife.
I saw, the Stuart-his triple kingdom reft--
Beg the poor boon of life his foes had left-
And young Napoleon--heir to Europe's fame-

Stripped of his right-The world! his father's name !--
Lest the proud history in that title found,

Should wake an echo to the parent sound.

Thou too-whene'er thy turrets thou dost climb--

Canst mark the saddest wreck of recent time,

Two orphan plants which mourn their native earth
Crowning old Holyrood's deserted hearth.

Alas! when greenly budding from the tomb
Beneath a brighter sun those plants did bloom--

When-trumpet-tongued--France sent to nations round
Her stormy pleasure in the cannon's sound-
When I myself invoked with strains of joy,

A glorious future for the royal boy

Not then I deemed, tht Fortune's wavering air
Should mock a people's hope, a Father's prayer;
All vows dispersing to oblivion dark,
With thunder's clang, and lightning's rapid spark--
That-e'er the boy could manhoods armor bear-
His bards should lack all tribute-save a tear.
A tear?-Their lyre shall wake a nobler tone!
If he escape, that bane of kings, the throne-
If God, like babes brute-nurtured in the wild,
By stern misfortune nerve his chosen child--
What royal bowers may vie with such a lot?--
Thrones chill the buds, they shade, but shelter not;
And Flattery's plague with pestilential wing,
Ere summer blights the promise of the spring!
Then let him grow, to the free sun, and wind,
And strive unbucklered with the march of mind.
Love, pity, hate, may style him as they can,
Monarch, or Exile-Let him live A MAN.
Let him not languish for a thorny crown-
To have, is Fortune's, to deserve, our own!
In kindred hearts he yet may reign supreme.
Dark is the sky, whose stars most brightly beam!

Et, si comme un timide et faible passager
Que l'on jette à la mer à l'heure du danger,
La liberté prenant un enfant pour victime,
Le jette au gouffre ouvert pour refermer l'abîme,
Qu'il y tombe sans peur, qu'il y dorme innocent
De ce qu'un trône coûte à recrépir de sang;

Qu'il s'égale à son sort, au plus haut comme au pire;
Qu'il ne se pèse pas, enfant, contre un empire;
Qu'à l'humanité seule il résigne ses droits :
Jamais le sang du peuple a-t-il sacré les rois?

Mais adieu; d'un cœur plein l'eau déborde, et j'oublie
Que ta voile frissonne aux brises d'Italie,

Et t'enlève à la scène où s'agite le sort,
Comme l'aile du cygne à la vase du bord.

Vénérable vieillard, poursuis ton doux voyage:
Que le vent du midi dérobe à chaque plage
L'air vital de ces mers que tu vas respirer;
Que l'oranger s'effeuille afin de t'enivrer;
Que dans chaque horizon ta paupière ravie
Boive avec la lumière une goutte de vie!
Si jamais sur ces mers dont le doux souvenir
M'émeut comme un coursier qu'un autre entend hennir,
Mon navire inconnu glissant sous peu de voile
Venait à rencontrer sous quelque heureuse étoile
Le dôme au triple pont qui berce ton repos,
Je jetterais de joie une autre bague aux flots;
Mes yeux contempleraient ton large front d'Homère,
Palais des songes d'or, gouffre de la chimère,
Où tout l'Océan entre et bouillonne en entrant
Et d'où des flots sans fin sortent en murmurant,
Chaos où retentit ta parole profonde

Et d'où tu fais jaillir les images du monde;
J'inclinerais mon front sous ta puissante main
Qui de joie et de pleurs pétrit le genre humain;
J'emporterais dans l'œil la rayonnante image
D'un de ces hommes-siècle et qui nomment un âge;
Mes lèvres garderaient le sel de tes discours,
Et je séparerais ce jour de tous mes jours,

Comme au temps où d'en haut les célestes génies,

Prenant du voyageur les sandales bénies,

Marchaient dans nos sentiers; les voyageurs pieux

Dont l'apparition avait frappé les yeux,
L'œil encore ébloui du sillon de lumière,

Marquaient du pied la place, y roulaient une pierre,
Pour conserver visible à leurs postérités

L'heure où l'homme de Dieu les avait visités.

And if as victims to the ocean cast

For guiltier lives to appease the howling blast

A child must suffer for a people's woes

By Freedom headlong hurled, the gulf to close-
There fearless let him sink,-there sleep unknown,—
Nor wade through slaughter to a blood-bought throne!
But, girt for Fate's extreme of good or ill,
Weigh not himself against an Empire's will!
His rights let him resign for Nature's good-
Are king's ennobled by their country's blood?

But fare thee well-my brimming heart doth fail,
Nor marks the wind, which fluttering in your sail
Shall waft to shores, where Fate doth blindly veer
Like the vexed wave beneath the swan's career.-
Go, Bard revered, thy peaceful course pursue,
And may each gale, that curls those waters blue,
Bear health and freshness on their breezy wing;
May orange flowers their perfumes round thee fling,
May every tint, that gilds the evening sky,

Pour light and life on thine enraptured eye.

If, on those seas-whose memory stirs my mind,

Like steeds which hear strange neighings on the wind-

If, on those seas, my barque unknown afar

Should haply meet-beneath some favoring star-
The three-decked pile which cradles thy repose,

A ring to ocean should my joy disclose.

On thy broad front my gaze entranced should dwell,—
Palace of golden dreams,-thought's living well,-
Gulf to which Fancy's waves unnumbered throng,
And issue thence in floods of endless song,-
Chaos-from which thy voice divine is heard,
And worlds spring forth at thy creative word.—
That master hand should bless a pupil's brow,
That hand, which steeps all hearts in joy or wo.
Thy form should live engraved on memory's page,
Thyself an epoch-namer of an age-

Thy words my soul should store-That morning's ray
Should stand an high-tide, and an holiday.
As-when celestial beings deigned of old,
In human guise their glories to enfold,

And walk Earth's ways,-the pilgrim who beheld
Immortal forms to mortal ken revealed,

His eyes yet dazzled by the unearthly glare,
Marked the blest spot, and piled memorials there,
That countless ages might the place record,
Where men had seen the Spirit, and adored.

AMERICA AND ENGLAND.

"I know you are my eldest brother; and in the gentle condition of blood you should so know me; the courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first born; but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us."

As You Like It.

It is matter of much curious speculation, and may be productive of many salutary lessons, to take a retrospective view of the strange mutations that have taken place in the various nations of the earth; to trace the rise and progress of the people in its different countries, from their state of primitive simplicity, or from barbarism, until they attained the plenitude of their splendor; and then to note the gradual decline of so large a proportion of them, not only from political power and strength, to a condition of subjugation or dependence, but also from wisdom and refinement to degradation and moral debasement.

The moral page has always been favorable to that species of philosophy which consists in knowing one's self; and perhaps there is no part of that page, which offers more liberal assistance in the acquisition of such knowledge, than that which exhibits the nature of mankind in the vicissitudes to which they have been continually exposed and subjected. The reflections to which faithful considerations on such matters will necessarily give rise, are favorable to the moderation of our pride and exultation in circumstances of fancied superiority; and to hope and encouragement, when we imagine the balance of advantages to be at present against us.

Scarcely in any part of the habitable globe need we look in vain for proofs of the truth with which the poet sings, that

From the earliest ages to our own day, and in every quarter of the world, this remark, so humiliating to human pride, so mortifying to human vanity, and so superior to human reason, meets us at every step; and should teach us to entertain that brotherly kindness towards all mankind, and to view their manners, their acts, and their condition in society, with that benevolence of aspect which only an honest conviction of its truth can dictate, and to which the reflection of the alternate rise and fall that overhang the destinies of every people, should ever incite us.

The subject is not uninteresting even in those periods which may be called the infancy of history; and as it approaches nearer and nearer towards our times, so does it increase in importance. We find that human nature is at all times the same, and that any greater degrees of stability have only been the result of occasionally wiser regulations or stricter discipline; yet wherein there has still been found the universal leaven of human fallibility; and however some of the nations of old might hold out, in support of their power and institutions, they finally had to submit to the common fate; that, namely, of overthrow and submission to barbarians, who in turn were destined to shine perhaps for a season, and in turn to have their light extinguished by another aspiring race.

Without dwelling on the accounts which have been handed down to us of the Assyrians and Medes, as being too remote from accurate investigation, to be unquestionable on the score of authenticity,-yet whose history must have some foundation in truth-it may be enough to remark, that both sacred and profane writers abundantly prove to us, that Assyria was once the greatest among the nations, and that now the inhabitants of her plains are amongst the most degraded of human beings, exceeded, in moral prostration, perhaps by one nation only, upon whom the lights of civilized life have at any time fallen, and which must be the subject of farther animadversion in the next place.

It is evident from innumerable proofs, that the Assyrians were far advanced over the surrounding countries in civilization, in population, in policy, and in arts. They made extensive conquests, and although the theory of government in those early times might not be near so correct as we presume it to be at present, yet it was superior, in their case, to that of their contemporaries in general. They built splendid cities, they performed mighty works, they explored deeply into the mysteries of science, they overran immense tracts of country, and subjugated nations which at that time were esteemed both wise and warlike. All these things they did,— and what remains of those magnificent achievements? Not a vestige of ancient Assyria, or of Assyrian conquests can be found. The very name has perished from the nomenclature of modern geography, and hordes of barbarians, ferocious, desperate, and cruel barbarians, of another race and name,—now roam over the land of the first great empire of the globe; to whom the splendid reign of a Semiramis, or the sensual debaucheries of a Sardanapalus are equally unknown; whilst the nations subdued by the former possessors of the land, are in many cases still existing, and even flourishing under their original patronymic.

A similar, nay, if possible, a worse fate has befallen Egypt. Egypt, the mother of science and arts,-the nurse of learning,-the inventress or the founder of all that was excellent in the learning of antiquity, indeed, of much that preserves its original value, and of all that was ingenious in human imagination. Egypt to which we owe letters, science, and philosophy; her children, once the most enlightened under heaven, now the most besotted and brutalized of all that own the human lineage. Egypt, that once sent forth her armies to conquest and to fame; that extended her force over Asia, and instructed the whole world in her wisdom, is sunk in the very mire of ignorance and degradation: literally as well as figuratively fulfilling the prophecy of the patriarch, that "a servant of servants" she should become.

The pride of ancient commerce, PHOENICIA, situated, as was then well believed, in the most favorable spot of the whole earth for contributing to general convenience, and for enriching her own children; whose cities were the envy and delight of all the powerful of her day; whose merchants were princes, and whose dwellings were palaces; the emporium of the world, which distributed the treasures of every region according to the wants and wishes of each; where or what is she now? Has her intercourse with all the world given her wisdom to preserve and perpetuate her name? Surely commerce opens wide the eyes of men to their own best national interests, by enabling them to know and judge of strength and