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(frarrnl (Brlrrtfr. From Household Words. SHORT CUTS ACROSS THE GLOBE. To a person who wishes to sail for California an inspection of the map of the world reveals a provoking peculiar ity. The Atlantic Ocean—the high way of the globe—being separated from the Pacific by the great western continent, it is impossible to sail to the opposite coasts without going thou sands of miles out of his way; for he must double Cape Horn. Yet a closer inspection of the map will discover that but for one little barrier of land, which is in size but as a grain of sand to the bed of an ocean, the passage would be direct. Were it not for that small neck of land, the Isthmus of Panama (which narrows in one place to twenty eight miles) he might save a voyage ot from six to eight thousands miles, and pass at once into the Pacific Ocean.— Again if his desires tend toward the East, he perceives that but for the Isth mus of Suez, he would not be obliged to double the Cape of Good Hope.— The eastern difficulty has been partial ly obviated by the overland route open ed up by the ill-rewarded Waghorn.— The western barrier has yet to be bro ken through. Now that we can shake hands with Brother Jonathan in twelve days by means of weekly steamers; travel from one end of Great Britain to another, or from the Hudson to the Ohio, as fast as the wind, and make our words dance to distant friends upon the magic tight wire a great deal faster—now that the European and Columbian Saxon is spreading his children more or less over all the known habitable world: it seems extraordinary that the simple expedient of opening a twenty-eight mile passage between the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, to save a dangerous voyage of some eight thousand miles, has not been already achieved. In this age of enterprise that so simple a reme dy for so great an evil should not have been applied appears astonishing.— Nay, we ought to feel some shame when we reflect that evidences in the neighbourhood of both isthmuses exist of such junction having existed, in what we are pleased to designate “barbarous” ages. Does nature present insurmountable engineering difficulties to the Panama scheme ? By no means: for after the Croton aqueduct, our own railway tun neling, and the Britannia tubular bridge, engineering difficulties have become obsolete. Are the levels of the Pacific and the Gulf of Mexico, which should be joined, so different, that if one were admitted the fall would inundate the surroundingcountry? Notatall. Hear Humboldt on these points. Forty years ago he declared it to be his firm opinion that “ the Isthmus ot Panama is suited to the formation of an oceanic canal—one with fewer sluices than the Caledonian Canal—ca pable of affording an unimpeded pas sage, at all seasons of the year, to ves sels of that class which sail between New York and Liverpool, and between Chili and California.” In the recent edition of his “ Views of Nature,” he “ sees no reason to alter the views he has always entertained on this subject.” Engineers, both British and American, have confirmed this opinion by actual survey. As, then, combination of British skill, capital, and energy, with that of the most “ go-ahead” people upon earth, have been dormant, whence the secret of the delay 1 The answer at once allays astonishment: Till the present time, the speculation would not have “paid.” Large works of this nature, while they create an inconceivable develop ment of commerce, must have a cer tain amount of a trading population to begin upon. A gold-beater can cover the effigy of a man on horseback with a sovereign; but he must have the sovereign first. It was not merely be cause the full power of the iron rail to facilitate the transition of heavy bur dens had not been estimated, and be cause no Stephenson had constructed a “ Rocket engine,’ that a railway with steam locomotives was not made from London to Liverpool before 1836. Un til the intermediate traffic between these tarmini had swelled to a sufficient amount in quantity and value to bear reimbursement for establishing such a mode of conveyance, its execution would have been impossible, even though men had known how to set about it. What has been the condition of the countries under consideration? In 1839, the entire population of the tropical American isthmus, in the states of cen tral America and New Grenada did not exceed three millions. The number of the inhabitants of pure European de scent did not exceed one hundred thou sand. It was only among this incon siderable fraction that anything like wealth, intelligence, and enterprise, akin to that of Europe, was to be found; the rest were poor and ignorant aborigi nals and mixed races, in a state ot scarcely demi-eivilization. Thoughout this thinly-peopled and poverty-strick en region, there was neither law nor government. In Stephens’ “Central America. ’ may be found an amusing account of a hunt after a government, by a luckless American diplomatist, who had been sent to seek for one in central America. A night wanderer running through bog and brake after a will-o’-the-wisp, could not have encoun tered more perils, or in search of a more impalpable phantom. In short, there was nobody to trade with. To the south of the Isthmus, along the Pa cific coast of America, there was only one station to which merchants could resort with any fair prospect of gain— Valparaiso. Except Chili, all the Pa cific states of South America were re trograding from a very imperfect civil zation, under a succession of petty and aimless revolutions. To the north of the isthmus matters were little, if any thing better. Mexico had gone back ward frem the time of its revolution; and, at the best, its commerce in the Pacific had been confined to a yearly ship between Acapulco and the Philip pines. Throughout California and Ore gon, with the exception of a few Euro pean and half-breed members, there Ut sava g e aboriginal tribes. , ? iussia n settlements in the far north * ,Homing but a paltry trade in furs wi amschatka, that barely defrayed its own expenses. Neither'was there any encouragement to make a short cut . omumerable islands of the Pa cific. The whole of Polynesia lay out side of the pale of civilization. In, Tahiti, the Sandwich group, and the northern peninsula of New Zealand, missionaries had barely sowed the first seeds of morals and enlightenment. — The limited commerce of China and the Eastern Archipelago was engrossed by Europe, and took the route of the Cape of Good Hope, with the excep tion of a few annual vessels that traded from the sea-board states of the North American Union to Valparaiso and Canton. The wool of New South Wales was but coming into notice, and found its way to England alone around the Cape of Good Hope. An Ameri can fleet of whalers scoured the Pacific, and adventurers of the same nation carried on a desultory and inconsidera ble traffic in hides with California, in tortoise-shell and mother of pearl with the Polynesian Islands. What, then, would have been the use of cutting a canal, through which there would not have passed five ships in a twelvemonth ? But twenty years have worked a wondrous revolution in the state and prospects of these rigions. The traffic of Chili has received a large development, and the stability of its institutions has been fairly tried. — The resources of Costa Rica, the pop ulation of which is mainly of Europe an race, is steadily advancing. Ameri can citizens have founded a state in Oregon. The Sandwich Islands have become for all practical purposes an American colony. The trade with China—to which the proposed canal would open a convenient avenue by a western instead of the present eastern route —is no longer restricted to the Canton river, but is open to all nations as far north as the Yang-tse-Iviang.— The navigation of the Amur has been opened to the Russians by a treaty, and cannot long remain closed against the English and American settlers be tween Mexico and the Russian settle ments in America. Tahiti has become a kind of commercial emporium. The English settlements in Australia and New-Zealand have opened a direct trade with the Indian Archipelago and China. The permanent settlements ot intelligent and enterprising Anglo- Americans and English in Polynesia, and on the eastern and western shores of the Pacific, have proved so many dtpdts for the adventurous traders with its innumerable islands, and for the spermaceti whalers. Then the last, but greatest addition of all, is Calfor nia: a name in the world of commerce and enterprise to conjure with. There gold is to be had for fetching. Gold, the main-spring of commercial activity, the reward of toil—for which men are ready to risk life, to endure every sort of privation ; sometimes, alas! to sacri fice every virtue; one most especially, and that is patience. They will away with her now. Till the discovery of the new’ gold country how contentedly they dawdled round Cape Horn; creeping dow r n one coast, and up another : but now such delay is not to be thought of. Al ready. indeed, Panama has become the seat of a great, increasing, and peren nial transit trade. This cannot fail to augment the settled population of the region, its W'ealth and intelligence. — Upon these facts we rest the conviction that the time has arrived for realizing the project of a ship canal there or in the near neighbourhood. That a ship canal, and not a railway, is what is first wanted (for very soon there will be both), must be obvious to all acquainted with the practical de tails of commerce. The delay and ex pense to which merchants are subject ed, when obliged to “ break bulk” re peatedly between the port v hence they sail and that of their destination, is ex treme. The waste and spoiling of goods, the cost of the operation, are also heavy drawbacks, and to these they are sub ject by the stormy’ passage round Cape Horn. Two points present themselves offer ing great facilities for the execution of a ship canal. The one is in the imme diate vicinity of Panama ; where the many imperfect observations which have hitherto been made, are yet suf ficient to leave no doubt that, as the distance is comparatively short, the summit levels are inconsiderable, and the supply of water ample. The other is some distance to the northward. The isthmus is there broader, but is in part occupied by the large and deep fresh water lakes of Nicaragua and Naragua. The lake of Nicaragua communicates with the Atlantic by a copious river, which may either be rendered naviga ble, or be made the source of supply for a side canal. The space between the two lakes is of inconsiderable ex tent, and presents no great engineering difficulties. The elevation of the lake of Naragua above the Pacific is incon siderable; there is no hill range be tween it and the gulf of Canehagua; and Captain Sir Edward Belcher car ried his surveying ship Sulpher sixty miles up the Estero Real, which rises near the lake, and falls into the gulf. The line of the Panama canal presents, as Humboldt remarks, facilities equal to those of the line of the Caledonian canal. The Nicaragua line is not more difficult than that of the canal of Lan guedoc, a w ork executed between 16G0 and 1682, at a time when the commerce to be expedited by it did not exceed —if it equalled—that w hich will find its w T ay across the Isthmus ; when a great part of the maratime country was as thinly inhabited by as poor a population as the Isthmus now’ is; and w hen the last subsiding storms of civil war, and the draggonnades of Louis XIV., unsettled men’s minds, and made person and property insecure. The cosmopolitan effects of such an undertaking, if prosecuted to a success ful close, it is impossible even approxi mately to estimate. The acceleration it will communicate to the already rapid progress of civilization in the Pa cific is obvious. And no less obvious are the beneficial effects it will have upon the mutual relations of civilized states, seeing that the recognition of the independence and neutrality in times of general war of the canal and the re gion through which it passes, is indis pensable to its etablishment. W e have dwelt principally on the commercial, the economical considers tions of the enterprise, for they are w'hat must render it possible. But the friends of Christian missions, and the advocates of universal peace among nations, have yet a deeper interest in it. In the words used by Prince Al bert at the dinner at the Mansion House respecting the forthcoming great ex hibition of arts and industry, “ Nobody who has paid any attention to the par ticular features of our present era, will SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE. doubt for a moment that we are living at a period of most wonderful transition, which tends rapidly to accomplish that great end —to which, indeed, all history points —the realization of the unity of mankind. Not a unity which breaks down the limits and levels the peculiar characterisiics of the different nations] of the earth, but rather a unity the re sult and product of those very national varieties and antagonistic qualities. —; The distances which separated the dif ferent nations and parts of the globe are gradually vanishing before the achievements of modern invention, and we can traverse them with incredible speed ; the languages of all nations are known, and their acquirements placed within the reach of every body ; thought is communicated with the rapid ity, and even by the power of lightning.’ Every short cut across the globe brings man in closer communion with his distant brotherhood, and results in concord, prosperity, and peace. (Driginnl pnrtnj. ] For the Southern Literary Gazette. FAREWELL TO LOVE. Again I’m cheated ! what are life’s false hopes? Farewell to Love ! but, sneering misanthropes, I I’m not with you ; oh, no—l dare not quell Those once loved thoughts, that made it swei t to dwell In such a world as this. I cannot tear From my fond eyes, the veil they loved to wear, Nor weep that it is gone; I’m not with you, But still to Love, a long, a last adieu. Metliought ’twas but an humble hope, this last, And hence the pang is keener, now ’tis past! It was an humble hope, but had so wrought” Into my very essence, and had caught So many borrowed beauties, that caprice, And youth, enthusiastic, much increase, The darling idea seemed almost my own, But now I mourn my last bright love-dream gone! ’Tis well, ’tis well: God chastens not in vain ;! The sunder’d links will form a brighter chain, When joined in Heaven and purified from dross, We count that gain which now we reckon loss. It were presumption, with a form like mine, Devoid of beauty’s touch, to dare enshrine So pure a thing as love within my breast, For love from beauty borrows half its zest; The beautiful may love—the sunset sky, The gentle moon—the winds that murmur by, And flowews—sweet flowers—my passion still may be, As when, in days of yore, beneath yon tree That shades the gateway, near our humble cot, I sat, forgetting all, by most forgot, And gazed insatiate on the Jasmine white, And kissed sweet violets with pure delight. Ay, I have clasped them even to my heart, Until their loveliness would all depart, Not knowing then that thus ’twould over be, And all things wither when beloved by me, Not knowing then, that in life’s troubled day, We“ make us idols but to find them clay Not fearing then, a few short years would prove That I had naught but skies and flowers to love. Farewell to Love ! and yet I fain would part With that false boy, with kindness in my heart ; For his deceit is but another sign On life’s great highway posted, to confine Our wayward feet to that straight, narrow’ way, From which, alas! they are so prone to stray. And brightest hopes, when crushed, will often lead To that fruition which is Heaven’s meed. FREDONIA. (Original (Essntjs. For the Southern Literary Gazette. EGERIA: Or, Voices from the Woods and Wayside. NEW SERIES. LXIV. Uses of Tomtits. I really cannot see w T hy a fop should not be considered quite as necessary to the human family as a philosopher. He has his uses, if only to be laughed at. He may not be useful to many, but he is apt to be agreeable to more; and he who pleases, is quite as dear as he who serves us. Nobody quarrels with the jay, because you cannot devour him with the same satisfaction which a partridge gives on table; and the silly tomtit, if not so venerable a bird as the owl, is less de structive to the chickens. 1 suppose that fops and dandies bear just about the same relation to the human family as jays, parrots, and such like, to the leathered tribes. Wits, and mimics, and satirists, may be likened to mock ing birds ; statesmen and philosophers, to owls and other birds that see by night; politicians to bats and sparrow hawks; and warriors to vultures, eagles and other voracious feeders, carrying great beaks, big beards and brows, and awfully long teeth and talons. LXV. Past and Present. The present is alwwas an eminence, yet who that stands upon it is ever quite satisfied with the provinces within his vision. In due degree w ith our years, w r e look forward or backward, upw'ard or around. To the old, the heights most precious are those upon which the sunshine rests, the mellow lights of evening, gleaming faintly upon the mountain tops behind: to the young, they are those of morning, shining gaily upon the purple summits that stretch away before. Neither is satisfied with the eminences gained, the one at the cost of a life, the other of a hope, and both at the period of equal life and hope. XLVI. Good and Evil Genii. The Indians fable, that there is alw'ays one hour in twenty-four when the good genius of a man deserts him, being compelled in that time to fly to Heaven for instruc tions. In that hour, should his evil genius happen to find it out, he can ruin him with all imaginable ease. It is the misfortune of some men, that the good genius desert them most of the time, and it is the evil principle that only leaves them for an hour. This brief space of time affords the better genius but little opportunity. With such persons, self strives ever against) self —the right hand against the left — ‘and each day brings its own suicide of soul. They need no enemy for their destruction, and, with a strange and mistaken charity for the devil, antici pate his efforts and lighten his labours. LXVU. Performance. To suppose that no thing remains to be done, is to assume that we are perfect. If life be half de veloped, the labour cannot cease ex cept with life itself. Each day brings its own duty, and every step forwards and upwards, but shows us new plains to cross and new heights to overcome. LXVIII. Solitude. He who goes into the [Solitude, seeking its securities, goes [into his own heart and entreats God to Jits examination. Let such persons lay jit honestly bare, without reservation or [concealment, and no doubt all its parts [will be made whole. But the security [which one seeks must be in the nature [of a surrender and a sacrifice; and in [laying his heart thus bare, he must be [prepared to fling away the worser part las a burnt offering, to “live the purer |with the better half.” (fur I'rttrw. Correspondence of the Southern Literary Gazette. NEW YORK, July 6, 1850. The town is fast recovering from the patriotic spasms of Independent Day, after burning gunpowder enough for a second battle of Buena Vista, and] making the welkin ring with every va- Iriety of hideous sounds that could be conjured up by the genius of unrest. [For two or three days, we have had a [regular specimen of an unclouded New York July sun, which you know- not only makes the mercury in the ther mometer dance to the top of its bent, but brings out all imaginable and un imaginable odours, reminding you, in the w’orst way, that is by contrast, ot pabaean groves and islands of spices. To-day, a cool, sweet, and most charm ing-tempered breeze, is playing in at the windows, and evidently doing its best to make life tolerable to the few surviving, overheated, sweltering deni zens of Gotham, who have not been lucky enough to make their escape from this reeking colluvies of abomi nations. 1 had the good fortune to celebrate the “glorious Fourth,” with one or two friends, in one of those breezy and • verdant nooks of Long Island, whose romantic beauty tempts one to for swear the city altogether, and nestle for life in the inviting bosom of pure and genial nature. You would scarcely be lieve that there was so retired a spot within two hours ride of this noisy Babel. The smooth Bay sets in from the Sound, forming a shore indented with all manner of graceful curves, while the high hills on each side, (al most worthy the name of mountains,) covered with locusts and ehesnuts oi luxuriant growth, present a miniature picture of the wooded sides of Lake George. Almost concealed amidst the exuberant foliage of the tufted heights, are embosomed two modest cottages, which form a tit residence for the two men of genius who have made them their summer retreat. The northern shore of Long Island abounds with these beautiful inlets of water, sur rounded yvith rich, picturesque emi nences, and enjoying the purest ocean breezes, which are far more attractive to the lover of rural scenery than most of tha crack watering places which produce such a furor among our fash ionable birds of passage. The Opera closed last night with the performance of Semiramede, by the Havana Company. Great complaint is made with the cast of characters adopted by the manager, and in spite of the brilliant efforts of Tedesco, the whole piece must be pronounced a failure. The Havana Company are to appear on Monday evening at Castle Garden, in the first of a series of musical repre sentations and concerts, w hich are to be offered to the public at a reduced price. The regular opera is to be alter- Inated with vocal and instrumental eon- Icerts for three evenings in the week. The Company, it is said, have engaged Castle Garden for four weeks, with the right to continue the arrangement for six w r eeks. On Monday night, the fa vourite Norma will be reproduced, and on subsequent evenings the entertain ment will be varied with popular Ope ras of a lighter character. No doubt Castle Garden w ill be thronged. The hotels are now so crowded as to afford a good audience, in spite of the absence from town of so many of our opera going public. Maurice Strakosch returned in the beginning of this week, after his long professional absence from New York. His tour has been a uniform series of successes, and he comes back with his sunny face w r reathed w r ith a profusion of fresh smiles. He is now ruralizing with Max Maretzek, on Staten Island, and merry men they are, and no mis take, in their green retreat on that odoriferous summer Paradise. Biscaccianti, after receiving the high est honours in her native city, from the whole array of Upper Tendom, arrived here on Thursday night. She sails for Europe, with Count Biscaccianti, in the steamer of the 10th inst. Her career, on the whole, in this country, has been a brilliant triumph. In spite of the cold shoulder which she received on | her first advent in New York, she has won a noble fame in most of the South-! ern cities, as well as in Boston, and noj one will soon tbrget the enchantmentJ of her voice, who has once listened to j her sweet, impassioned melodies. Madame Anna Bishop is looked for with great impatience. She will soon be in New York, covered with the fresh laurels which she has gathered in Southern fields. W. Vincent Wallace, it has been said, has decided to make this city his permanent residence for the future. The house of \Y . Hall & Son are to be the sole publishers of his original mu sical compositions. A French troupe of comic dancers are reported to be preparing for an American campaign, and will probably arrive here early in the. autumn. An English Operatic Troupe, under the celebrated Catharine Hayes, are also an nounced for the coming winter. The Ravels are to return in September. Anew theatre is going up in Broad way, at the corner of Spring-street, which is to be devoted to performances similar to those of the Olympic, while under the administration of Mitchell, jit is intimated that Mr. Brougham will [“hold the ribbands” in this new enter jprise, and they could not be placed in [better hands. | James Wallack, Jr., and his wife, [have accepted an engagement at the [liay Market, London. Their success [in England is confidently anticipated, j Wallack has contracted with Mr. Banco, [the author of “Marco Bozzaris,” for a [new tragedy, to be produced during his | London engagement. Dr. Bethune declines accepting the Chancellorship of the New York Uni versity, vacated by the resignation of Hon. Mr. Frelinghausen. The exist ence of other engagements is alleged as the ostensible cause of his non acceptance. It will take no small share of vigour and determination to put the University on the right track. The discipline has long been at a low ebb. Probably Dr. Bethune shrinks from the thankless task of establishing an au thority over the lawless juveniles ot young Manhattandom. The boys, 1 am told, have the hit completely in their teeth, and run the sedate Profes sors a wild race. The commencement was held in the Astor Place Opera] Mouse. The services presented a daz zling Mosaic of sophomorical elo quence, opera-music, and prayer. It is not thought quite decorous to open a church for the displays of these royster ing hobble-de-hoys. I fancy the velvety Dr. Bethune would soon find himself out of his element, at the head of such a regiment of “light-infantry.” Mr. G. C. Anthon, a nephew of the world-renowned literary forager, Prof. A., of Columbia College, has received the appointment of Greek Professor, in the place of the terrible heresy hunter, Taylor Lewis, w T ho lias been [transferred to Union College. Whether Mr. Anthon is expected to fulfil both functions of his illustrious predecessor, [l have not yet been informed. Waldo Emerson has just completed a course of lectures at Cincinnati and some other cities of the West. The Buckeyes, I perceive, are somewhat surprised to find that the famous Bos-I ton transcendentalist wears broad-cloth and shoe-leather, as a Christian gentle man should, and neither smells of sul phur, nor shows a cloven foot. He has been exploring the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky, and is now on his return by way of the Falls of St. Anthony and Lake Superior. Among the arrivals this week by the steamer Washington, are Count Dem binski, the nephew of the gallant Hun garian General Dembinski, and himself an officer of distinction in the Hunga rian service. He is accompanied by his young Countess, who has shared his hard fortunes, and proposes to become a resident in this country. Ilis his tory is full of romantic interest. In his appearance he is quite youthful, with a very intelligent face and prepos sessing manners, although he does not speak a word of English. Mr. G. P. R. James, the prolific English novelist, was a passenger by the same vessel. He brings with him his wife and family, consisting of several sons and daughters. His object in visiting America, 1 understand, is one purely of pleasure and curiosity, with no reference to any business arrange ments. He utterly disclaims the asser tion that he wishes to modify the copy right laws. James is a stoutish gentleman, with a strongly-marked English look, apparently not far from forty-five years of age. He has written too much to be made a lion of by our novelty-worshippers. 1 need not tell you that the second number of Harpers’ New Monthly is in no respect inferior to the former one. It keeps the press busy to suppl) the demand. Stringer & Townsend issue the se cond number of their “ Weekly Miscel lany ” to-day. Its contents are made up with considerable taste. lam told it is not intended as a rival to Harpers’, so much as to gratify the numerous readers who wish for a litery journal, with less buckram dignity and more breadth and vitality, than are found in the hebdomidal columns of Duyckinck’s Literary World. Paine’s gas turns out to be gas and nothing else. So the North River is safe from being burned for the present at least. The Rochester knockings still make las much noise as ever. Your article on the subject nearly represents the state ot’public opinion here in regard to them. Those who are the least scepti cal ascribe them all to the devil. T. ! (T'ljr i>orrtli Slltnr. AN HOUR WITH GOD. One hour with Thee, my God ! when daylight breaks Over a world thy guardian care has kept, When the fresh soul from soothing slumber wakes, To praise the love that watched me while I slept; When with new strength my blood is bounding free, The first, best, sweetest hour, I’ll give to Thee. One hour with Thee, when busy day begins Her never-ceasing round of bustling care, When I must meet with toil, and pain, and sins, And through them all Thy cross must bear ; 0, then to arm me for the strife, to be Faithful to death, I’ll kneel an hour to Thee. One hour with Thee, when rides the glorious sun High in mid-heaven, and panting nature feels Lifeless and overpowered, and man has done For one short hour with urging life’s swift wheels; In that deep pause my soul from care shall flee, To make that hour of rest one hour with Thee. One hour with Thee, when saddened twilight flings I Her soothing charm o’er lawn, and vale, and grove, I When there breathes up from till created things ■ The sweet enthralling sense of tiiy deep love; I And when its softening power descends on me, IMy swelling heart shall spend an hour with Thee. ■One hour with Thee, my God! when softly night Climbs the high heaven with solemn step and slow, [When thy sweet stars, unutterably, bright, Are telling forth thy praise to men below; O, then, while far from earth my thoughts would flee, I’ll spend in prayer one joyful hour with Thee ! Lesson for Sunday, July 14. HIDING GOD’S WORD IN OUR HEART. 11 Tliy word have 1 hid in mine heart, that I might, not sin against thee.”—Psalm cxix. 11. Dayid’s attachment to the word of God is worthy the imitation of all be lievers. It was the source of his joy, the food of his soul, his companion in retirement, and his guide through life. Here we have A WISE COUKSE TO HE ADOPTED. To hide God’s work in our heart. It may be found in the house, in the head, in the memory, and yet not in the heart. This includes Reception. Where it is hidden, it must be received; and where it is re ceived, the judgment approves, the af fections embrace, the heart feels, and the life conforms to it. Regard. Many things are hidden, not so much for concealment as securi ty. Thus our Saviour speaks of the “•treasure hid in a field.'’ The man who prizes God’s word will not rest satisfied till it is deposited in his heart. Remembrance. It is hidden in him, as something to which he has constant recourse. Memory is the hiding of cer objects in the mind for future use. A A sanctified memory is preferable to a good natural one. The spirit of the word may be felt in the heart, where the letter is not retained in the memory. An important end to be answered. I” That 1 might not sin against thee.” Such a course, if it does not keep us free, yet it will restran us from sin.— There are some particular seasons when it will prove a safeguard. It will si lence our murmurings in the day of affliction, it will prevent our yielding in the hour of temptation, it will keep us from despairing in the period of de sertion, and, amidst our heaviest trials, it will lead us to the exercise of confi dence in our heavenly Father ; and we shall resemble the affrighted bird on some lofty tree, in the midst of the howling wind and storm; though her pleasing notes are for a season checked, yet she fixes herself more firmly on the shaking bough. ‘THE KINGDOM OF GOD IS WITHIN YOU.” True Christianity is spiritual in its essential character, and the only locali ty in this world is the hearts of reno vated men. This is the kingdom that Christ came to found and promulge; and it is the only kingdom that can de throne sin and Satan ; repair the ruin of the fall; restore man to the divine favour; and redeem the world to God. As such, it is of heavenly origin—a communication from Jehovah —an out flowing of the Divine character and beneficence. It is the wisdom from above. As the soft splendor of moon light is only a reflection from tin- beams of the luminary of day, so all the pie ty that invests and adorns true Chris tian virtue, is but the reflected radiance of the Sun of Righteousness; it had its source in the infinite blessedness of] God; was revealed in him who is the Brightness of his glory, and the Express Image of his Person ; and it is commu nicated by the Holy Spirit to the sub jects of renewing grace. And here it stands opposed, and in crowning dis tinction. to all religions of human or earthly origin. Many are the systems of belief derived from human specula tions, and which have been presented as all that is necessary for mankind in their present and future existence. — Pretended philosophers, from the first idolater to the latest theorist, have toiled to construct an earthly religion, which, like Babel’s tower, should pene trate the upper heaven, and carry its builders there. But like that old stu pendous folly, these systems have scarcely reached the clouds, while their authors like the degenerate sons ot Noah, have been confounded and scat tered. Sublime above them all, in its heaven-born glory, stands the unearth ly fabric of Christianity —the spiritual kingdom of God. Celestial in its ori gin, brighter than the sun, it shines with llife-giving and purifying beams, upon It his darkened world, and wherever the [light is welcomed to the heart, it makes la heaven below. It is like the scenes in the apocalyptic vision of the Prophet apostle, as he saw the holy city, the New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride for her husband; and, as he heard a great voice out of heaven, saying, “ Be hold the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people.” Thus an in fluence from the heart of Deity, an ap prehending influence, that causes us to renounce sin, and that draws us to Him self in holy affection, and to Ilis ser vice in willing obedience, has been com municated to our hearts, or we are not the subject’s of God’s gracious kingdom. That privilege belongs only to believ ers in Christ, who are “ born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.” — Rev. S. D. Phelps. (folimpsts of linn Souks. YOU AND I. From “ Egeria ; or. The Spirit of Nature,’” and other Poems, by Charles Mackay. Who would scorn his humble fellow For the coat he wears ? For the poverty he suffers ? For his daily cares? Who would pass him in the footway With averted eye ? Would you, brother? No, you would not. If you would—not I. Who, when vice and crime, repentant. With a grief sincere Ask’d for pardon, would refuse it— More than Heaven severe ? Who to erring woman’s sorrow Would with taunts reply ? Would you brother? No, you would not. If you would—not I. Who would say that all who differ From his sect must be Wicked sinners, Heaven rejected. Sunk in Error’s sea, And consign them to perdition With a holy sigh ? Would you, brother? No, you would not. If you would—not I. Who would say that six days’ cheating. In the shop or mart, Might be rubb’d, by Sunday praying. From the tainted heart, If the Sunday face were solemn And the credit high ? Would you, brother ? No, you would not. If you would—not I. Who would say that vice is virtue In a hall of state ? Or that rogues are not dishonest If they dine off plate ? Who would say Success and Merit Ne’er part company ? Would you, brother ? No, you would not. | If you would—not I. Who would give a cause his efforts, When the cause was strong. But desert it on its failure, Whether right or wrong— Ever siding with the upmost, Letting downmost lie ? Would you, brother? No, you would not. I If you would—not I. Who would bend his arm to strengthen Warfare with the Right? Who would give his pen to blacken Freedom’s page of light ? Who would lend his tongue to utter Praise of Tyranny ? Would you, brother ! No, you would not. I If you would—not I. DENMARK AND ITS PEOPLE. Prom “An Easter Offering,” by Fretlerika Bremer, just pubbslieil by Harper & Brothers. THE MOTHER-LAND AND COLONIES. Denmark! you know it, and yet you do not know it—this wonderful little island-kingdom which stretches from the vicinity of the North Pole, where the Greenlander tosses in his liajack amid the icy waves, and sees the spirit of liisl fathers bunt and sport in the flames of the northern lights; where eternal death seems, in Issefjord, to have erected the pillars of his temple of never-melting icebergs, which still tremble, and are sometimes prostrated at the voice of man; to the Southern Ocean, where, under the glowing line, the sugar-cane and the coffee-plant are cultivated by the negro, and the life of nature never ceases to bloom in magnificence. Between Greenland and Santa Cruz —eternal win ter and eternal summer —lies an archi pelago of islands, subject to the Danish crown. Iceland, with the most ancient memories of the North; the volcanic cradle of the Scalds; the Faroe isles, pe culiar in scenery and in people, where, amid rocks and mists, the sun portrays Ossianic shapes; the Hilligs, where man and the sea contend for the earth; and many, very many more. But Denmark Proper, the oldest and the original Den mark—that by whose cradle the vala songs resounded; that which, in common with Sweden and Norway, has a mythic lore, and in it a philosophy of life, loftier than that of any other people on the earth ; that from whose shores the Nor man bands went forth throughout the world with their heroes and sons ; Den mark-Proper, the mother-land, consists of the great and fertile islands where the beach-woods murmur; where the stork, the sacred bird of Denmark, builds its nest; in whose azure creeks the crim son Dannelrog, tlie national flag, floats, the beautiful islands of Reatland, Jut land, and Funen. There has the Danish people its home. LIFE IN COPENHAGEN. In Copenhagen, you are compelled to say to yourself, “The Danes are a good looking people.” You see so many pleasant countenances, though so few beautiful ones; the contour is more oval, the features finer than in Sweden. In Sweden prevails more strength and beauty of the eye; in Denmark, a charm ing and lively expression of the mouth ; the complexion is fresh, the expression joyous and kind. The ladies dress with taste and elegance. You see many black-silk cloaks, or mantillas; white bonnets, with flowers or feathers, abound on the Esplanade, the Lange-linie, along the Sound, the Bred-gade, and the Oster gade. Oster-gade ! frightful to the me momory of every quiet soul who is un accustomed to the bustle of Copenhagen, and who finds himself under the neces sity of purchasing articles of clothing; for, whatever you want —bonnet, cap, lace, ribbons, shawls, material for dresses, parasol, umbrella, gloves, stockings, shoes —for all these you are directed to the Oster-gade; and when you arrive in this street, morning, noon, or night, whatever be the time, you find the whole city there already —purchasing, walking, talk ing, and looking about. If thou art in the dangerous condition of being obliged to hasten through Oster-gade, in order to reach the other side of the city, then, poor, inexperienced wanderer, commit thy soul into God’s hand, and make thy way if thou canst. But prepare thyself for exertion, opposition and vexation ; for at the very commencement, as thou art attempting to advance, three ladies and five servants, each with a basket on her arm, stop, and if thou endeavour to pass to the right, there comes a row ot| sailors in full speed; if to the left, two gentlemen in the greatest hurry, cigar in mouth, rush on before thee, while seven trading dames meet thee at the same moment, and if thou wilt pass between them, thou art hindered by a man and his wife, who go arm-in-arm, not as if wedded, but welded together. Throng follows throng: you can no longer dis-1 tinguish individuals, and as you stop, that you may not trample to death orl smother a little child that comes between| you and the others, a shop-boy dartsj headlong out of a shop, past you, into the! street, so close to your nose that you are! confounded not to find it flattened to your face; at the same time that an old gentleman treads on your heels behind. OCHLENSCHLAGER. Perfect, fully armed, like Minerva from! the head of Jupiter, was born the north-! ern tragic muse; not Grecian, Shakspe-| rian, but Scandinavian, taking for her| ground the northern popular traditW and history; the northern heroic ljf with its peculiar colouring in hatred an!i love; its lyrical fascination; its powerful every-day mode of thought, and th!’ great moral significance which is din,'* verable in the life and combats 0 f it. gods and giants. She stepped forth ‘1 transfigured glory before the eyes of th [people, awakening and admonishing [them in the lofty stature of anting [drama and song’; and even to this da’ [the happy poet, the father of northern tra [g ed y—eed we indeed name Adam Ock lenschlager!—still youthful and stron i [with creative energy, gathers up I [laurels to those he has already won—. a , [just lately in his heroic poem', “ ‘ I iLodbrok.” K | HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN | Who in the educated world has u 0 | [heard speak of Hans Christian Ander I [sen’s Fairy-Tales for children? I n th. I [child they awaken the thoughtful man and we, full grown people, are a<r a j n [converted by them into good and happy [children. Andersen is himself a “wonder [child,” whom some good fairy has gifted [in the cradle. His life is ‘a real fain tale, in which the poor lad, who began |liis career in lowliness and want, closes it [with honour and good luck ; it \>egan in [the humble cottage, and it ends in the j [saloons of royal palaces. Known and beloved also as a romauc*- writer and lyrical poet, Andersen's true peculiar mastership, lus originality and his immortality are in his Tales, hi these he is second to no one. In the-, he is the son of the legendary Nort h. I [where Samund and Snorre sung wonder j ful adventures, where the oldest story I teller, the old woman, Turida, sate in tin twilight of history, by the flames of Heckla, relating old tales which have come down from generation to genera tion. The spirit of this old story-teller is changed since then; her theme is non [no longer the deeds of violence and tin [vengeance of blood, and tin- long, loin [hatred which grew silently from year to [year among contending kindred, until, like the avalanche of the Alps, it was pre cipitated by its own weight, and crushing [all that came in its way, found rest onlv [in the grave which itself dug. Those [stories belong to far-past times. Then 1 [latest are children of light, and cast their I [beams over the children of men. RSisrdlnraj. From the Louisiana Spectator. PHILANTHROPY vs. OSTENTATION, j Some few years since, late on a sultrv j [night, sat a gentleman whose fortunes [had been crushed by false friendship. * inside the door of an humble tenement, g |waiting for the sound of a neighbour- f ing clock to administer the hourly pre- | [scription of an M. D. to his afflicted I [wife. Their three little cherubs were I [locked in the arms of sleep. A stranger. ] [in passing, asked if Mr. A. resided j [there. The gentleman responded, and lam that unfortunate man.” I “1 have a letter for you, sir.” I “Ah!” exclaimed the forlorn, “Is it [for weal or wo?” He tendered the billet: “I am in ft [haste,” said the messenger. His proffered hand was received bv I [courtesy: the thrilling touch at once I told it was % Masonic brother! and he immediately left. The clock struck one, the hour to administer the medi cine. She arose. “Oh! what a sweet sleep I have had —how calm I feel! What is this falling on my cheek? It is a tear! What is this? Why do you weep? I am better, love, much better.” “I have a letter!” replied the hus band. “Ah! what! more persecution!’ “Here it is, unopened ; bring me a light!” It w T as opened, and revealed a five hundred dollar b'll enclosed in a blank sheet, with the exception of the words. “A Mason.” “It is now near the dawn of day she said, “you have not slept for two nights—rest, rest —I can take my own medicine—sleep!” He did sleep, and at a late hour in the morning, he was awakened by the balmy kiss of his beloved wife. “Dear, I’ve had a dream.” “No,” she replied, “it is a reality.’ “Strange!” “Strange, or not strange, it is true, she replied; “here is your breakfast, and an egg boiled to your taste, with toast and tea. Here are your clothes, flake John with you and go to Mrs. M. I You’ll fatigue. Here is ten dollar [pocket money for you, and five dollars [tor Mrs. M. At 3 o’clock w r e leave [this hovel. As you l<>ve me. 1 beg of you not to interfere. God is great, and God is good! Do, dearest, take the hoy and leave us. In the evening we li meet. Cheer, husband, well thrive again!” And so they did. The Wife’s Commandments. —A late Cincinnati paper gives the follow ing as a correct version, for the use ol all doubting husbands. Listen: 1. Thou shalt have no other wile but me. •2. Thou shalt not take into thy house any beautiful brazen image of a servant girl, to bow down to her, to serve her. for I am a jealous wife, visiting, &c. 3. Thou shalt not take the name ot thy wife in vain. 4. Remember thy wife to keep her respectable. 5. Honour thy wife’s father aiw mother. 0. Thou shalt not fret. 7. Thou shalt not find fault wit- I dinner. I 8. Thou shalt not chew tobacco, nor Itake snuff. 9. Thou shalt not be behind tin Ineighbour. 10. Thou shalt not visit the run’ [tavern; thou shalt not covet the tavern [keeper’s rum, nor his brandy, nor nn [gin, nor his whiskey, nor his wine. [anything that is behind the bar ot 1 ‘ Irumseller. > j 11. Thou shalt not visit the bulls [saloons —neither for worshipping 111 ’ ‘ [dance, nor for the heaps of mono.’ [lie on the table. t ’ And the twelfth comm 4lll ‘ IU . ’ jthou shalt not stay out later t a [o’clock at night. | The Crystal Palace.—ln the [surrounding one of the palaces I King of Siam, there is a summer L ion which seems the work of ina £ lc . ht is entirely of crystal; it is twenty feet long and seventeen wide. walls, the ceiling, the tables, the seats Hi are of crystal. The cement h,c> unites the different parts ot the edifice