exist among a subservient people, and which here would be utterly incompatible, alike with private interest and public good.

We number many men and women of excellent talent, but we want home subjects; something that our hearts and affections can rally round by our own fire-sides; a sympathy with our own, and with ourselves. We want to awaken a deep sense, an abiding love, of beauty, both in nature and the fine arts. We have now enough of leisure and wealth to cultivate a literary taste, and to reward it. Let us make the effort.

To do this, we must let our hearts as well as our eyes go out among our fellow-creatures; try to see the beauty of the natural, the harmony of the moral world; put selfishness and littleness at a distance, and endeavor to comprehend and recognize the Infinite. Might not the cultivation of literature and the fine arts counteract in some measure that love of show and extravagance which already characterizes our private life; that petty struggling after social preeminence through a ruinous and tasteless expenditure? for this barbaric love of glitter, this childish desire to be an eye-dazzle, owes its existence to meanness and ignorance; although a plea of apparent humility might really be put in; for that being who appeals to social consideration through extrinsic décorations; who says to furniture, clothes, jewels, horses, servants, 'You are all essential; from you I derive my social vitality: my little soul and mind are nothing; mere nonentities; there is no intrinsic merit there; they might rattle in a cherry-stone, for all the room they would occupy; but my big house, my luxurious table, my fine dress and sumptuous attendance, swell out into an impalpable grandeur, before which every heart and door must open.' When once allowed entrance, this narrowminded devotion to appearances encroaches by degrees, until it finally drives out all natural affection and benevolent feeling: to such, there is no estimation of God's creatures but by that of station. In all creation they recognize no living essence: mind sleeps; the soul is dead. Their life is selfishness.

In all countries where there are no artificial distinctions, the vanity and ambition of numerous individuals will endeavor to affix on themselves some outward mark of superiority. With us Fashion has been the deity generally selected to confer this importance. And when we count the long list of victims who within a few years past have sacrificed honor, friends, talents, public confidence, family reputation and life, at the shrine of this phantom goddess, we must confess that their example has materially lowered the tone of public and private morals, and that it is an evil continually on the increase. Now would it not be possible to awaken a better and more patriotic taste? — for this perverted opinion is a mistake, a false estimate, rather than wilful intent. If citizens in every township would each subscribe the smallest possible sum yearly, if only sufficient to purchase one picture, or one statue, and assign an apartment in the court-house, or most convenient public building, how soon might both Pleasure and Pride be led to encourage and promote galleries of American art! The enjoyment of art ought as much as possible to be made universal; those breathing manifestations of the divine, which GoD-endowed genius executes, are gifts bestowed by Heaven for the benefit and improvement of the race, and as such

they ought to be welcomed. We have many promising artists in this country, and others studying in Italy; now if the inhabitants of separate townships would each subscribe but one dollar a year, leaving to artists the choice of subjects, how soon might we glory in sculptors and painters, whose works would confer on themselves and country immortality! Instead of languishing in neglect and poverty, hopelessly struggling for fame, which early death prevents their attaining, they would be inspirited by public sympathy, and the consciousness that their efforts were the glory and admiration of their countrymen. tions of this kind would gratify age, and have a refining influence on youth; they would likewise have the advantage of being a common centre of interest to all classes; and it is one of the necessities of a republic to have some subjects upon which all can feel alike, without reference to station or party.

Exhibi

Amid so many discordants there must be some accordants, to prevent accidental divisions from growing into permanent enmities. The idea of making great works of art private property is quite a modern one, and unworthy of a liberal age or people. Among the Greeks, up to the time of Alexander, the towns and their respective citizens were the owners of those master-pieces which the world has never equalled: the highest and the meanest gazed on them with equal pride and rapture, and felt a kindred interest in this common property. It is true we can even now name some of the munificent men who paid for these noble productions, but it was with the patriotic intent that they might adorn and beautify their native cities; they considered art too sacred to be shut up in private walls, for the pleasure only of the rich. It was with them an important agent in civilizing and ennobling men; and to the immortal honor of true artists be it remembered, that they always have been more anxious for fame than money, and fully willing to contribute their share toward public collections or exhibitions.

Again we reiterate, a nation can never acquire a profound, permanent character, until she owns a home literature, whose roots are planted and nourished in the habits and nature of her people. Public opinion, founded on foreign experience, must be unstable and divided, and often inapplicable under a different state of affairs. That which naturally formed itself out of the peculiar position, the special circumstances, and inborn feelings of the inhabitants, becomes as it were part of themselves, and oan be relied upon under all difficulties; as suitable to their institutions and as secure in their affections. How can a sound and vigorous nationality ever be the fruit of foreign acquisition? They who transplant tares cannot expect to reap wheat. Nothing but Truth can stand the test of time; it is the everlasting rock alone that can send back the tide of error. All beneficial social institutions are but true opinions realized; and all true opinions must be founded on a law of nature, that is, on God's intent and man's capacity. In time, what personal abasement, what mental servitude, must exist among a people who are unable, or too indolent to inquire into these high questions, but who are content to know themselves and the laws which regulate their being through the thoughts of others! Such a community may have the material elements of prosperity, but they have built upon a quicksand.

All civilized people endeavor to avail themselves of the wisdom of the past, and by so doing incur a debt to the future. How worthless to posterity is the nation that throws no light on its own existence; that records not its struggles against evil, its means of advancing good, its peculiar modes of thought, the lives of its children, and the experience of its government! The experience of the present is a debt owing to the future; and they who defraud Futurity of her due, must expect either to sink into oblivion, or faintly live in the misrepresentations of adverse contemporaries.

Brooklyn, New-York.

L. M. P.

THE FOREIGN

MISSIONARY'S CALL:

A DREAM.

BY JOHN H. RHEYN.

IN the deep sleep of night, when motions oft
From spirit-worlds invade the slumbering sense,
A vision, sent of God, amazed my soul
With solemn terror and religious awe.
I stood and looking downward I beheld
A vast dark valley, at whose sloping end,
Under a black o'erhanging crag, there yawned
The wide devouring gate of Hell. From it
Burst smoke and roaring flame, whose lurid glare
Flashed upward far along the vale. No sun
Shone there, nor moon, nor heav'n-inviting stars;
But, spread from mountain top to mountain top,
The waving wings of Death o'ershadowed all.
And, rushing down the valley's steep descent,
Myriads of disembodied ghosts I saw

By that drear light: farther than eye could reach,
The surging deluge of lost souls rolled down
To everlasting night. Nor any knew

The fiery goal whither they hurried on;

For every eye was blind: and, as they passed,

All stretched their heads tow'rd where I stood, and turned
Their darkling orbs on me, crying: 'Light! light!'

And while I gazed and wept, I heard a voice

From Heaven, which said: 'Beholdest thou all these,
Like sheep without a shepherd? Son of man!
Leave thou thy father, and thy father's house,
For I have called thee.' Then within my breast
Melted my heart like water. On the earth
In fear I sank; and mortal faintness drew
Dark clouds over mine eyes. I was like one
Wrapped in strong horrors of approaching death.

Again I heard the voice from Heaven. And now,
Upstarting from the ground with new-born strength,
I stood surrounded by a flood of light,
Poured on me from on high. In my right hand
Bright blazed the mystic Sun of Righteousness,
A light to light the Gentiles. In my left
The opened Book, in which I read; 'Go ye
Into all nations.' And an angel, sent

From Heaven, came down, and with a living coal
From off the altar, touched my lips with fire.
Prostrate I fell before JEHOVAH's glory, cried,
With joyous thankfulness, Thy will be done!'
Then woke, and girded up my loins, and went.

A CHAPTER ON MID DIES.

BY NED BUNTLINE.

DON'T look for a regular dissertation upon this class of animals, reader; my intention is not to enter upon any investigation of them as a species, but to elucidate the general character of the genus, by a simple narrative of facts which came under my personal observation.

How I love to look upon a jolly, whole-souled reefer, when he has just returned from a three years' cruise abroad! his heart light as flower-down floating on the air; his head still lighter; his purse alone heavy, and no earthly whim or vagary too strange for him to indulge in. Livery-stable men, candy-shop keepers, washer-women and tailors, all have a harvest to reap, and the gathering, to them, is of little trouble. But the training of the boys is the jolliest part of their history. Many a time have I laughed myself almost into a pleurisy over the reception of some fresh-caught middy, as he came for the first time on board ship from some unwatered section of the back-woods. Many are the tricks devised by the 'oldsters' to annoy and properly initiate the youngster,' when he first crosses the gangway, turning his nose inquiringly upward, as it meets the perfume of tar and bilge-water. It is in itself amusing, to look at the wondering face which a 'green 'un' assumes, when he appears for the first time among the strangenesses of ship-board, probably having no previous idea of the navy; perhaps thinking, as one I wot of once did, that it was something good to eat!'

My purpose in the present sketch is to relate the history of an introduction' as it actually occurred, which will be recollected by most of the officers who with myself were stationed in the West-India squadron during the year 1837.

A young gentleman from Athens Athens in Alabama, not Athens in Greece,' he informed us received an embossed piece of kid-skin from the President, with papers accompanying, which advised him to purchase certain clothing, more particularly described in the papers aforesaid, and to proceed forthwith to the sea-coast and report for duty.

In conformity with these instructions, the young man had a new blue claw-hammer jacket manufactured, with yellow buttons upon it, and geese,' as he said, 'sittin' on a pig-yoke, printed on to 'em,' bought a pair of high-heeled boots, a sword longer than himself, and a pair of pocket-pistols, and started for Pensacola, where he was ordered to report to Captain BABBIT, of the sloop-of-war Boston.

On his arrival at the City of White Sand,' his first inquiry was: 'Where does Mr. Navy live?'

After some trouble, he succeeded in finding out that the gentleman whom he wished to see could be found on board the Boston, which was pointed out to him as she lay in the stream, with every thing ataunto,' ready for sea, looking, as he said, 'jest like three big trees, standin' in a corn-field, ready trimmed to hang scare-crows on.'

Stepping into a boat, which he declared looked 'egzackly like our folks' long hog-trough,' he was soon conveyed alongside the ship. As he ascended the 'tarnal shakin' stairs,' otherwise known as the accommodation-ladder, the first thing which struck his eye was the bright red and yellow facings of the uniform worn by the marine sentinel, who was pacing along the gang-plank, outside the vessel. After reaching the top of the ladder, he coolly looked over the side upon the quarter-deck, where several officers were walking; then turned around to the soldier, whom he observed to be more gaudily dressed than the others, and reaching out his unwashed hands, thus addressed him:

'Wall, Cap'n,' old hoss, how ar' you?'

Then taking a side look toward the musket in the sentinel's hands, he added:

'I reckon you 're out a-shootin' loons, aint you? But what on yarth ha' you got that tarnal long stickin'-bag'net on to the eend of your smooth-bore for?"

The astonished soldier glanced at our subject in silent surprise, which however did not abash the gaily-uniformed youth, who once more looked over the bulwarks, and casting his eye down the main hatchway, again exclaimed:

'La! Cap'n, this 'ere canoe o' your'n is all holler; and d -n my biggest nigger to thunder! if she aint a s'prisin' screamer!'

The officers now came to the relief of the astonished soldier, and with considerable difficulty the young man was made to understand who was the captain. After paying his respects to the old hoss,' as he invariably termed our skipper, he was conducted to the midshipman's apartment in the steerage. The reefers at once marked him out as a subject for initiation; and when he entered the room he was received with the most obsequious gravity and politeness by us all, and introduced to the mess in due form, each giving to the other some false name. After having been introduced to all except the biggest devil among us, he was seated. He then wished to know who that preacher-lookin' hoss' was in the corner; for ''mongst all the funny names, we had n't told his'n.' He was accordingly very gravely introduced to this personage as Dr. Tarrybreeks, the ship's surgeon. On being introduced, he as usual held out his flipper, and said:

'Wall, old hoss! Taller-bricks they call you, do they? Do you ever have any ager-shakes in these 'ere diggins?'

'Young man!' answered the quondam physician, in a severe tone, 'you forget the respect which is due to my elevated station, in thus addressing me by titles other than those which are of right my own. Have you not perused the Latin poets? Do you not remember that in the Third Book of Humbugii Extraordinum, that it is recorded as followeth : 'Non recordibus el medicum dominorum est asinorum? —which in the vernacular meaneth, Thou shalt not write down thy doctor an ass,' thereby inferring that he must not be called a horse, and worse than all, an aged horse."

6

'Wall, Mister Doctor, ar' you done? Wall now, that are 's a jump above my tallest persimmons!' rejoined our hero, with a half awechecked burst of laughter.