From anxious mortals' ken Gazing through deep vistas, where, The millions that have lived and loved- The victor's crown, the poet's bays, The crumbled palaces of yore No mortal hand shall e'er unroll That crowd thy huge and ancient scroll, In hieroglyphics strange and bold, The marvels of Tradition old Within thy Mausoleum vast, Are gathered to their doom; The towers and domes that gemmed the Plain For centuries have darkly lain Beneath the sullen wave The Desert spreads her heavy shroud, And owls and dragons shriek aloud O'er Ilion's lonely grave! Insatiate Hoarder! ever watching For the golden moments' flight- Life and beauty from our sight! To thy dark keeping given― Yet not for aye shall darkness spread For, at the dawning of the Day, C. The Home of Genius and the Birthplace of Religion. BY A. H. C. LITERATURE, and science, and art, seem to have selected Greece as their home, for here was the scene of their noblest efforts, and the depository of their choicest productions. Every thing united to make it the favorite seat of the muses. Success in war inspired the people with patriotism, and conferred that noble independence so necessary to greatness; its climate, too mild to blunt the finer sensibilities, was yet sufficiently invigorating to prevent effeminacy-minds of the highest order framed its laws, and intellects of the noblest stamp shaped its destiny. The brilliant exploits of Salamis and Marathon bear evidence of Grecian bravery-the splendid ruins that yet survive the attacks of time and ruthless war, are monuments of its art, and the still prouder remnants of literature, speak of its intellectual greatness. Every part of Greece abounds in names hallowed by the almost inspired strains of its poets-every mountain and grove is invested with a sacred charm, by some classic allusion of a beautiful mythology, there is hardly a spot but that has been consecrated by its divinities, or honored by the presence of the Muses. It was blessed with the 1850.] THE HOME OF GENIUS AND THE BIRTHPLACE OF RELIGION. 353 immediate presence of the gods, for, Jupiter thundered from its own Olympus, the earth-born Titans piled Thessalian Ossa upon Pelion, and the sacred nine made Mount Helicon and the Castalian Spring their favorite resorts. But it was reserved for Athens to concentrate all its incomparable bravery, its perfection of art, and its brilliancy of intellect. The Grecian divinities controlled the destinies of the world, from the cloudcapt summits of the mountains, yet they blessed Athens' splendid shrines, with their peculiar presence. The Muses wandered amid the rural groves, and beside the sacred fountains, yet the Attic capital alone received the full benefit of their inspirations. The Athenians were almost invincible in war, yet nature bestowed not on them unusual hardihood, nor girt them around with impassable barriers; but patriotism nerved the arm, superior skill mocked the tyrant's countless forces, and the overpowering eloquence of a Demosthenes inspired the heart with resistless courage. They have never been surpassed in art, yet other cities have attained to greater power, have amassed richer treasures of wealth, and have had more unlimited means at their disposal; but genius here disclosed the beautiful forms concealed beneath the marble's rough exterior-fancy devised its richest charms-and taste selected the highest beauty for its imitation. The literature can almost claim perfection, for it was not the fruit of intellect basely sold to gratify a tyrant's vanity, but the daring thoughts of genius-freely uttered-not a solitary light which ventures to glimmer amid surrounding darkness, but one vast luminary that dazzles by its brightness. From every other city renowned for illustrious talent, the intellects that purchased their country's fame are easily selected, but it would be idle to enumerate the names entwined with Athens' glory. For the skill and bravery of the warrior, the justice and wisdom of the statesman, the elegancies of the artist, and the profound learning of the philosopher, have almost exhausted their powers in making it the admiration of the world. Still the number of its superior minds, is rivaled by the variety of their noble pursuits, and the greatness of their powers is equaled by the splendid results of their exertions. Yet there is another name, which awakens more hallowed recollections than that of Athens. For while the ruins of heathen countries call forth emotions of admiration, deep and intense, those of Jerusalem strike even a finer chord, and make it thrill with a richer music; since, in one case, mythology has only diffused an air of pleasing mysteryin the other, the miraculous workings of a real Providence have left a terrible impress. Athens' heroes were sung in the highest of earthly strains-its mountains and groves were hallowed by the most beautiful of mythologies-and its gods were the greatest of false divinities. But Palestine's history is enwoven with names whose praise trembles on the lyre strings of angels-its scenery abounds in plains made vocal by celestial minstrelsy-and with heights that have shaken at the thunders of Omnipotence, or agonized with the sufferings of the Saviour. The poetry and eloquence of Greece is sublime and impressive. But it is the highest reach of human intellect, and not the thrilling power of heavenly inspiration. The broken, half uttered responses of the Grecian oracles-seeming as though the imaginary god were laboring to suit his speech to mortal ears-have been mentioned as passages of unwonted impressiveness, yet how poorly they compare with David's sweetest, sublimest notes of praise, or to the raptures of the soul, filled with the pleasing and terrible scenes of prophecy! The artist in every age has dreamed his brightest visions, when looking upon Athens' perfect models-its mythology has been an exhaustless storehouse of classic allusions for the poet, and the influence of its talent is still shaping the destiny of the greatest intellects; while through the influence of Judea's sacred truths, the world is becoming better and happier. If they do not increase the powers of mind, they direct them to proper objects, and by keeping the soul humble in this world, fit it to shine in eternity. In one respect, Athens and Jerusalem are similar, and yet, different. Both were great in opulence, literature, and art, yet, while these were the representative of Athens' glory, they indicate but the slightest cause of Jerusalem's fame. For there, it was the workings of a special Providence that led to distinction. There, religion was ever the great business of life. Even the Jewish literature, noted for its sublimity and majestic eloquence, as well as for its persuasiveness and touching simplicity, is wholly devoted to the exposition of sacred truths, for it was the inspiration of true divinity, and not the work of minds struggling for earthly fame. The elegant arts were made subservient to religion; for perfection in them was sought, only to form for Israel's God, a temple unequaled in magnificence and beauty. In short, all that the most perfect talent and powerful intellect can accomplish, is displayed in the brilliant career of Athens: a little of what Supreme power can effect, is set forth in the sacred history of Jerusalem. The one can boast itself the birthplace of the most illustrious minds, the other can glory in that honor from the Omnipotent himself. The day of greatness has now passed from both. Each, in its time, wielded a mighty influence, and that influence has not and never can be lost. As long as one lover of literary beauty remains, the intellects of Greece will have a worshiper at their shrines. Time only unfolds new attractions in their works, and instead of stealing away their charms, seems to bestow the beauties wrested from its other spoils. Standing at this distance, all appears bright and fair in Athens' fame. The defects are lost in the superior effulgence. Yet there are black spots on its history-crimes dark enough to sully forever the lustre of an ordinary nation. Perhaps we are particularly favored in living at this remote period, for we can gaze at Greece through the mist which ages have raised, and see her bright orb magnified by the dusky medium, while the dark spots are comparatively diminished. The heathen gods, when regarded at a distance, were majestic divinities, but close at hand, they were merely fierce, vindictive giants; so perhaps the Grecian glory, viewed in the time of its greatness, would have seemed little more than an ordinary splendor. Athens was indeed a chief among cities, but in considering her greatness we are prone to exaggerate. For nearly all the lustre of her brilliant career through centuries, has come down to us in one concentrated glow of loveliness. We gaze upon the stupendous columns which yet stand the monuments of its departed greatness, and in imagination build it up, perhaps more glorious than before. But Jerusalem, on the other hand, is never seen except in its proper light. The sacred volume that records its glory, tells also of its shame. Not a single dark spot is hidden, but each crime stands out in its native deformity, set forth in words of living truth. And black indeed has been its picture, sketched by the pen of inspiration. For more aggravated have been its faults, than were in the bounds of possibility for any other nation. Greece destroyed its generals-Judea its holy prophets. Athens gave the cup of poison to the greatest of philosophers-Jerusalem nailed the Lord of glory to the cross. This last daring deed, is a foul blemish on the Jewish annals, and yet a brightness and glory for the world. The influence of that sacrifice made at Calvary, is even now circling through the eternal world, and ever must, until it shall embrace infinity. Little now remains in Palestine to tell the wonders of its history. The once blooming plains are changed to a solitary desert, the sacred mountains no longer echo the thunders of Omnipotence, and the proud capital hears but the wail of its suffering children, or the haughty words of insulting victors. Yet fancy loves to linger amid those scenes, and to deck them anew with memory's beauties; superstition yet shrinks with awe from the scene of former terrors, or blindly worships at imaginary shrines, while devotion fondly gazes upon a spot sacred as the home of true religion, hallowed as the birthplace of Divinity. "The Graves of Those We Love." "Stars that shine and fall, The flower that drops in springing, To which our hearts are clinging." MOORE, If there is one place on earth more sacred than another, that place is the grave which affection has planted with flowers and watered with tears. Where, at the still of evening, the lone one wanders, and in the silence of the tomb finds sad communion with the spirit which yet lives in thoughts and actions that time can never efface; where |