Part 4

Courage, thou Genoese!--Old Time Thy brilliant dream shall crown; Yon western hemisphere sublime, Where unshorn forests frown, The awful Andes' cloud-wrapp'd brow, The Indian hunter's bow, Bold streams untam'd by helm or prow, And rocks of gold and diamond, thou To thankless Spain shalt show.

Courage, world-finder!--Thou hast need!-- In fate's unfolding scroll, Dark woes, and ingrate-wrongs I read, That rack the noble soul. On!--On!--Creation's secrets probe, Then drink thy cup of scorn, And wrapp'd in fallen Cesar's robe, Sleep, like that master of the globe, All glorious,--yet forlorn. L. H. S.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

INTEMPERANCE.

Parent!--who with speechless feeling O'er thy cradled treasure bent, Every year, new claims revealing, Yet thy wealth of love unspent,-- Hast thou seen that blossom blighted, By a drear, untimely frost? All thy labor unrequited? Every glorious promise lost?

Wife!--with agony unspoken, Shrinking from affliction's rod, Is thy prop,--thine idol broken,-- Fondly trusted,--next to God? Husband!--o'er thy hope a mourner, Of thy chosen friend asham'd, Hast thou to her burial borne her, Unrepentant,--unreclaimed?

Child!--in tender weakness turning To thy heaven-appointed guide, Doth a lava-poison burning, Tinge with gall, affection's tide? Still that orphan-burden bearing, Darker than the grave can show, Dost thou bow thee down despairing, To a heritage of woe?

Country!--on thy sons depending, Strong in manhood, bright in bloom, Hast thou seen thy pride descending Shrouded,--to th' unhonor'd tomb? Rise!--on eagle-pinion soaring,-- Rise!--like one of Godlike birth,-- And Jehovah's aid imploring, Sweep the Spoiler from the earth. L. H. S.

The following beautiful lines have been very generally ascribed to the pen of the Hon. R. H. Wilde, a member of the present House of Representatives from the State of Georgia. We do not know that Mr. W. has ever confessed the authorship, but we think that they would not discredit even their supposed origin. We have had the pleasure to read some of Mr. Wilde's brilliant speeches in Congress, and we are confident that they are the emanations of a mind deeply imbued with the spirit of poesy. Not that we thence necessarily infer that these lines are the genuine offspring of his muse--but merely allude to the character of his parliamentary efforts, in connexion with the common opinion that the poetry is from the same source. One of our present objects is to give what we conceive to be a correct version of these admired lines; for in almost all the copies we have seen, we have been struck with several gross errors, alike injurious to their sense and harmony. Not the least remarkable of these errors has been the uniform substitution of _Tempè_ for some other word,--thereby imputing to the author the geographical blunder of converting the delightful and classic valley of Greece, into a desert shore or strand. We have no doubt that _Tampa_ is the word originally written by the author, there being a bay of that name in Florida sometimes described on the maps as the bay of Espiritu Santo.

MY LIFE IS LIKE THE SUMMER ROSE.

My life is like the summer rose That opens to the morning sky, And ere the shades of evening close, Is scattered on the ground to die; Yet on that rose's humble bed The softest dews of night are shed As though she wept such waste to see, But none shall drop one tear for me!

My life is like the autumn leaf Which trembles in the moon's pale ray, Its hold is frail, its date is brief, Restless;--and soon to pass away: Yet when that leaf shall fall and fade The parent tree will mourn its shade, The wind bemoan the leafless tree, But none shall breathe a sigh for me!

My life is like the print, which feet Have left on Tampa's desert strand, Soon as the rising tide shall beat Their trace will vanish from the sand; Yet, as if grieving to efface All vestige of the human race, On that lone shore loud moans the sea, But none shall thus lament for me.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

TO MY INFANT DAUGHTER EVE.

_By Mrs. D. P. Brown._

Fair little flow'r, may no rude storm Impair thy early bloom,-- No cank'rous grief that smile deform, Or antedate its doom.

In soul be ever as thou art Mild, merciful, and kind, Date all enjoyments from the heart, All conquests from the mind.

The body is an empty thing, Frail, worthless, weak, and vain; The _mind_ alone can pleasure bring, Or soothe the bed of pain.

What is the gaudy casket, when The priceless jewel's gone? Such to the eyes of noble men, Is beauty's charm _alone_.

Fashion may decorate the brow, Fortune the eye allure, But nothing _worldly_ can bestow Those treasures which _endure_.

Then fix, my child, thy hopes above; All earthly joys deceive: Rest solely on a Saviour's love, My gentle daughter _Eve_.

_Philadelphia._

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

TO MY CHILDREN--ON NEW-YEAR.

_By Mrs. D. P. Brown._

Another year has wing'd its flight, And left us where it found us, In health, affection, and delight, With every charm around us.

The overseeing Eye of Heaven Has guided, guarded, cheer'd us, Its bounteous hand has freely given, Its bounteous love endeared us.

Time shall roll on, and still each year Enhance our mutual pleasure,-- Tho' fortune frown on our career The _heart_ shall be our treasure:

And when at last stern Fate's decree Our kindred souls shall sever, In regions of eternity They'll join in joy forever.

_Philadelphia._

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

MUSINGS--_By the Author of Vyvyan._

A patchwork of disjointed things-- Of grave and gay imaginings.--_The Visionary._

My thoughts resemble scattered leaves, Which Fancy, like the Sybil, weaves, Just as may suit her wayward whim, Into a many colored dream.

* * * * *

A tablet resteth on my knee-- The gift of one most dear to me; Upon its fair unwritten face My pencil now and then may trace The flitting visions of my mind, Like cloud-forms varying in the wind-- Too incoherent, wild and roving, To weave into a song of loving-- Such as might suit the gentle ear Of one--I wish to heaven were here.

All things breathe loveliness--the sky Looks on me like my lady's eye, Clear--beautiful as crystal blue And darkling in its own bright hue.

The faint air, sighing from the south, Steals sweetly o'er my cheek and brow, As late I felt and _fancy_ now The breath of her own rosy mouth When, in her eagerness to look Into the pages of my book She stood by, o'er my shoulder leaning, In innocent but simple meaning.

* * * * *

Amid the voiceless wild Of the ancestral forest, I feel even as a child, Whose pleasure is the surest When most by wonderment beguiled. A lovely lake before me sleeps, Whose quiet on my spirit creeps-- Around and o'er me, solemn trees Of the eternal forest, dart Their wildly straggling boughs athwart The sky--with their rich panoplies Of varied foliage. Here and there A withered trunk by storms laid bare, Spectre like--whitening in the air, Spreads wide and far its skeleton limbs, Where, up the creeping verdure climbs, And wreathes its draperies, ere they fall, In festoons so fantastical.

* * * * *

Here moves the Genius of Romance, With lofty mien and eagle glance-- No plumed casque adorns his brow-- No glittering falchion does he wield-- Nor lance bears he, nor 'scutcheoned shield. Nor among fallen columns low, Behold him crouch and muse upon The shattered forms of sculptured stone-- Fair classic marbles, which recall The glories of an ancient time-- Its pride--its splendor and its fall-- Such things belong not to our clime. The Genius of our Solitude Stalks forth in hunter's garb arrayed, A child of nature--wild and rude-- Yet not averse to gentle mood: The same high spirit, undismayed, Amid the stormy battles roar, As when he wooes his dusky maid, Beside some dim lake's lonely shore; Or paddles his skiff at eventide, O'er Niagara's waters wide.

* * * * *

'Tis sweet to sit alone, and muse In such a spot as this-- Thus imperceptibly to lose In dim, imagined bliss, The vulgar thoughts and cares that shroud The spirits of the busy crowd-- That chain their grovelling minds to earth And wretched things of little worth. Years seem not many, since a child, I loved to haunt this pathless wild, And wearied lay me down to rest Upon some broad rock's mossy breast, Lulled by a dreamy listless thought, From loneliness and quiet caught-- Or, prying with most curious eye Into dark hollows, to descry Some robber haunt or hidden grot, Where haply it might be my lot, Like Alla-Ad-Deen, to find a treasure Of gems and jewels without measure. But what a change is wrought since then! I've mingled with the world and men, Who scoff at boyhood's guiltless joys, Yet scorn them but for _greater_ toys. Well--let them mar their health for fame, And waste their days, to gain a name, Built on the rabble's wretched praise, Whose voice awhile may sink or raise, But cannot rescue from the lot Old Time, the despot, hath assigned Impartially to all earth's kind. Such record vain I envy not, Nor burn with mightier men to mate-- The followers of a fiercer fate, Who trample on all human good To win awards least understood. Such is renown reaped with the sword-- Such glory! Empty, fatal word, That lures men on through fire and flood-- Through scenes of rapine, crime and blood, To write in history's page, a tale, O'er which their fellow man grows pale. Could half the tears they cause to flow Bedew that page--how few could read The blotted record of each deed, Which laid the brave by thousands low And broke more living hearts with wo, That ONE might be what good men hate, And fools and knaves miscal "THE GREAT."

ORIGINAL LITERARY NOTICES.

INAUGURAL ADDRESS, DELIVERED BY THE REV. STEPHEN OLIN, President of Randolph-Macon College, on the occasion of his induction into office, 5th March, 1834. _Richmond: Nesbitt & Walker._

Randolph-Macon College is a new institution, in Mecklenburg county, Virginia; and President Olin, we believe, is a late comer into the state: at least we are so ignorant as not to have heard of him before. If we are permitted to judge from the "inaugural address," we congratulate the commonwealth upon the acquisition of an instructor of solid endowments, sound practical views, and elegant taste. He treats the subject of education like one who had thoroughly mastered the philosophy upon which it is founded--and who evidently prefers to be guided by the safe lights of experience, rather than by the specious but uncertain theories which acquire a transient popularity--but which cannot bear the test of sound investigation and analysis. President Olin, we think, combats with effect a very popular error, to wit: that education ought to be so directed as to subserve a particular profession or pursuit; in other words, that the profession or pursuit of a young man ought to be previously selected, and the course of instruction made to conform accordingly. Now nothing, in our view, can be more preposterous; and we concur entirely with the President in the opinion, that _one of the objects of education it to develop the intellectual aptitudes and moral qualities_, and that these when developed, should entirely control the preference or choice of a profession. Not that if these aptitudes and qualities when manifested, should point in an evil direction, they should therefore be indulged. By no means. The primary object of education should be--the highest development of morals and intellect. In the pursuit of this great object however, if the course of instruction is rightly ordered, the predominant aptitudes and qualities will appear--and then is the time for the judicious parent or guardian to co-operate with the wise indications of nature.

In conformity to this view of the subject, the President urges the choice of such studies in a collegiate course, as have a tendency to _enlarge_, _invigorate_ and _discipline_ the mind. To the mathematics he assigns a high rank. "They habituate the mind to protracted and difficult efforts of attention, and to clear and lively perception of truth, and at the same time furnish it with principles and facts of inestimable value in many of the departments of useful industry and philosophical research."

Nor does he attach less importance to the study of the Greek and Roman languages. In the opinion of President Olin they "give useful employment to the intellectual faculties at a period when they are incompetent to more abstract and severe occupations. They call up the attention to such short and easy, but repeated efforts, as are best calculated to correct its wanderings and increase its energies. The mind is accustomed to analysis and comparison, and its powers of discrimination are improved by frequent exercises in declension, inflexion and derivation, and by the constant necessity that is imposed upon it, of deciding between the claims of rival definitions. The memory is engaged in the performance of such tasks as are precisely fitted for its development, and the judgment and other reasoning faculties find ample and invigorating employment in the application of grammatical rules, and the investigation of philological principles." We wish we had space for the whole of Mr. Olin's remarks upon classical learning. He considers the growing scepticism in reference to its utility and importance as an evil omen.

Next to pure and mixed mathematics and the learned languages, the President is inclined to give a place to intellectual philosophy. "It familiarises the student with the laws and the phenomena of mind, and with such efforts of subtle analysis and difficult combination as are best fitted to enlarge and fill the grasp of the highest intellectual capacities." He also recommends as subordinate, but highly important studies--composition and eloquence--moral and natural philosophy--chemistry--the French language--and geology and mineralogy.

Mr. Olin opposes with much force the excessive multiplication of studies without a correspondent prolongation of the collegiate term. "The industry which was profitably directed to a few, may be divided amongst a multitude of objects; but it will incur the inevitable penalty of fitful and dissipated intellectual exertion--superficial attainments and vicious intellectual habits." In what is denominated the art of education, the President is not inclined to set as high a value upon the lecture system as upon the mode of frequent recitations from well digested text books. From the history of the two universities, and of the literature of Scotland and England for the last century, he is led to draw the conclusion that the "lecture system is more favorable to the improvement of the professor, and the reputation of the university--whilst the opposite method has been more productive of thorough and accomplished scholars."

Upon the subject of moral restraint and college discipline, Mr. Olin is forcible and interesting. With a mind well organized for the clear perception of truth, we take the President to be fearless in proclaiming his convictions, without stopping to calculate the strength of opposing prejudices and opinions. He does not hesitate to come up boldly to the mark, and to advocate the only rational system by which our erring nature, and especially our youthful nature, can be brought to a just sense of what is due to its own interests, as well as to the requirements of society. Upon this subject, however, we prefer that the President should speak for himself.

"In proportion as virtue is more valuable than knowledge, pure and enlightened morality will be regarded by every considerate father the highest recommendation of a literary institution. The youth is withdrawn from the salutary restraints of parental influence and authority, and committed to other guardians, at a time of life most decisive of his prospects and destinies. The period devoted to education usually impresses its own character upon all his future history. Vigilant supervision, employment, and seclusion from all facilities and temptations to vice, are the ordinary and essential securities which every institution of learning is bound to provide for the sacred interests which are committed to its charge. But safeguards and negative provisions are not sufficient. The tendencies of our nature are retrograde, and they call for the interposition of positive remedial influences. The most perfect human society speedily degenerates, if the active agencies which were employed in its elevation are once withdrawn or suspended. What then can be expected of inexperienced youth, sent forth from the pure atmosphere of domestic piety, and left to the single support of its own untested and unsettled principles, in the midst of circumstances which often prove fatal to the most practised virtue! I frankly confess that I see no safety but in the preaching of the cross, and in a clear and unfaltering exhibition of the doctrines and sanctions of christianity. The beauty and excellence of virtue are excusable topics, though they must ever be inefficient motives, with those who reject the authority of revelation; but in a christian land, morality divorced from religion, is the emptiest of all the empty names by which a deceitful philosophy has blinded and corrupted the world. I venture to affirm, that this generation has not given birth to another absurdity so monstrous, as that which would exclude from our seminaries of learning the open and vigorous inculcation of the religious faith which is acknowledged by our whole population, and which pervades every one of our free institutions. Our governors and legislators, and all the depositaries of honor and trust, are prohibited from exercising their humblest functions till they have pledged their fidelity to the country upon the holy gospels. The most inconsiderable pecuniary interest is regarded too sacred to be entrusted to the most upright judge or juror, or to the most unsuspected witness, till their integrity has been fortified by an appeal to the high sanctions of christianity. Even the exercise of the elective franchise is usually suspended upon the same condition. The interesting moralities of the domestic relations--the laws of marriage and divorce--the mutual obligations of parents and children--are all borrowed from the christian scriptures. The fears of the vicious and the hopes of the upright--the profane ribaldry of the profligate, no less than the humble thanksgiving of the morning and evening sacrifice, do homage to the gospel as the religion of the American people. Our eloquence and our poetry--our periodical and popular literature in all their varieties--the novel, the tale, the ballad, the play, all make their appeal to the deep sentiments of religion that pervade the popular bosom. Christianity is our birthright. It is the richest inheritance bequeathed us by our noble fathers. It is mingled in our hearts with all the fountains of sentiment and of faith. And are the guardians of public education alone 'halting between two opinions?' Do they think that in fact, and for practical purposes, the truth of christianity is still a debateable question? Is it still a question whether the generations yet to rise up and occupy the wide domains of this great empire--to be the representatives of our name, our freedom and our glory, before the nations of the earth, shall be a christian or an infidel people? Can wise and practical men who are engaged in rearing up a temple of learning to form the character and destinies of their posterity, for a moment hesitate to make 'Jesus Christ the chief corner stone?"

It is not to be supposed, however, that Mr. Olin is in favor of subjecting our public seminaries to the control of any particular religious denomination, or that the faith of the student is either to be influenced or regulated by sectarian views. On the contrary, he considers that such a course would be a manifest violation of the principles of free government. His remarks upon the internal discipline of a college are sound and excellent. He is decidedly opposed to that "multitude of vexatious enactments," and those frivolous and arbitrary regulations which too often disgrace our seats of learning. In the administration of such wise and salutary laws, however, as experience has proved to be necessary, President Olin refers to the co-operation of parents and guardians as absolutely essential. We wish that conviction on this subject was more general than it is, and that all who are in any wise responsible for the intellectual and moral training of youth, whether at colleges, academies, or private schools, would consider the importance of sustaining, by parental authority, the just and wholesome government of the teacher. A weak or capricious parent, who from false tenderness, countenances the wayward inclinations of a child in opposition to school authority, is not only inflicting upon it irreparable mischief, but is doing equal injury to others by the encouragement of a bad example.

A DISCOURSE ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF WM. WIRT, late Attorney General of the United States; pronounced at the request of the Baltimore Bar before the Citizens of Baltimore, on the 20th of May, 1834, by John P. Kennedy. _Baltimore: Wm. & Joseph Neal._ 1834.