perception of that living something-that body and fixture of ethereal thought, which the strong grasp of genius has caged in the lines of language.

If what has been said be true, nature stands vindicated from the charge of vagary in the operations of the mind. There is little venture in saying, that these operations, when natural, are always continuous and to the point under contemplation. Untrammeled with stiff rules-uncramped by affectation and desire of display, and bent with vigor to its work, the mind will do its duty. An effort may frequently be necessary to shut out impertinent trains of association, and to confine and task the mind to one, and the proper, course of thought; and we have admitted that reason should direct To judgment that course, and give bent to the current of ideas. the helm, and trust to the tide for progress,

E. N.

A PASSAGE FROM MY DIARY.

25th MAY, -32.

Little do they, who live on land, know the perils of the Sea. Storms of thunder may terrify them; tempests of wind may tear away the roofs from their dwellings, and even level the dwellings themselves with the ground. But there is no yawning deep beneath them; no angry billow ready to swallow them up. They snatch not at the falling rafters, nor cling, in the agonies of death, to the scattered tiles. If they succeed in escaping to a little distance from the crashing timbers, all danger is past. Not so when the tempest strikes the frail bark of the mariner. He lacks a resting place for his foot; an unfathomed abyss gapes wide to receive him; and he seizes the smallest fragment of his vessel, eager to preserve his life, although floating alone on the sea, three thousand miles, it may be, from land, and far from the reach of every human effort. How intense is the love of life! there is no passion of the soul so mighty; and who can describe its strugglings in the bosom of a man drowning on the ocean. Above is the roaring wind, and the flaming thunderbolt, and the black cloud obscuring the face of Heaven. Below and around is the deep, whose towering surges buffet his defenceless temples in sportive mockery, raising him now

to the clouds, and now thrusting him ruthlessly down a fearful chasm that closes on him forever.

The previous evening was spent in mirth, music and dancing. For the space of twenty four hours a calm had stilled the face of the deep; and the scene which presented itself to us just before sunset was delightful. Numerous flocks of birds covered the sea in all directions; the playful porpoise gamboled around us, and the setting sun, hanging a few yards from the surface of the ocean, in unclouded but serene majesty, seemed like a great eye placidly viewing our sports.

Thirty sail, with the British ensign flying at the topmast, were in sight, whose reverted images we could see in the transparent waters, as distinctly as if the sea had been a large looking-glass, clear as crystal. At midnight the sea began to swell; but yet no wind. The morning came; and the swell continued, accompanied with a light unsteady breeze, which freshening up by eight o'clock, we set all sail and bore away before the wind, seven knots an hour. Our decks were crowded with passengers busy cooking and talking of the favorable wind. After breakfast we amused ourselves shooting at the sea gulls and ptarmigans that flew in hundreds around the ship. By ten it blew a stiff breeze, and all were merry with anticipation of soon finishing the voyage. A few heavy clouds arose in the N.E., and some drops of rain fell. A passenger on the quarter deck said to one near him-' see, there are hills covered with snow-is that America? The Captain had just given orders to take in sail, for the wind had increased, and the sea began to roar tremendously. In an instant it blew a perfect hurricane; the mountains covered with snow soon changed their character, and broke over our ship in foaming surges. The tackling creaked; the masts struggled in the wind, and our vessel literally flew over the waves. Every eye turned toward the foremast. It was crowded with sail, which the men were busy taking in, and tugged desperately with the blast.'Let go the fore-sheet! down with the jib! quick!' but, ere the words were heard, with a terrible crash, as if the whole ship had been torn asunder, the main top, fore gallant, and jib-boom dashed majestically into the sea. 'All hands on deck and the women below,' was the word of command; and it would be nearly impossible to describe the scene of confusion and consternation that followed. Dinner had been preparing, and it was laughable-if any person could laugh in such a dreadful moment-to see pots of broth, dishes of potatoes, and pieces of ham, and empty water cans scattered up

and down the deck as if it had been a deserted camp. But this was no time for sport. The wind and rain beat upon us dreadfully; the sea was a roaring whirlpool; the man at the helm was dashed from his station, and for a moment, our good ship, without a steersman, hung struggling on the top of a great wave, that had heaved us almost to the clouds, and a part of which,--thank Heaven it was not all of it-lashed across our stern, sweeping away a part of the binnacle, and levelling two or three passengers, who stood clinging to the ramparts.

To add to our horror it became so dark that we could scarcely see one another. The women screamed, and their cries but increased the general terror. The hoarse vociferations of the Captain and men; the loud and incessant frappings of the tattered sails; the wild shrieks of the terrified sea gulls, and the crackings of the waves as they ever and anon struck the sides of the ship and the long boat, which was by this time nearly full of water, all together made this one of the most terrific scenes the eye ever beheld. I hope never to see the like again. How puny is man's power, when in combat with the elements! and how vain glorious the title Lord of the Creation,' which he has assumed ! 'Tis like the coronet of the expiring monarch, glittering but valueless; beautiful, but it cannot rescue him from the hand of Death.

In such an hour as this man is wise. This world is a little ball of tinsel, scarcely perceivable by the naked eye, and no larger than one of the myriads of the little particles of dust that float on a sunbeam. All his life has been folly; his actions madness;-and Eternity a few rods distant! Terrible thought! what shall he do! I tremble at recalling the sensations which I felt, and the horrors of this storm shall haunt me to the grave. After working until overcome with exhaustion, and being completely drenched with the rain and sea, I walked towards the quarter deck, and stood looking at the waves, I thought for the last time. They were terrible. Now and then I imagined I saw sparks of fire, flashing from the spray that continually sprang over the sides of the ship, as she plunged on the tops of these liquid mountains.--My heart failed, and I went below to comfort my parents. The wind continued to blow as fiercely as ever--or in the words of Burns-' as if it wad hae blawn its last'-all night; and every hour was twenty four.

A dim lamp hung on a post in the middle of the hold, where all was gloom, silence and despair. As morning approached the dark

ness became less intense; and through the twilight, we saw, at a little distance, one of our companions of yesterday, totally dismasted, floating a shapeless bulk, with two hundred and thirty souls on board, at the mercy of the waves. Hapless mortals! what became of them God knows. After three days the storm abated; and we arrived safely in America.

TOSTIG.-A brother's hate bites deep as serpent's fangs;

A wrong seems double to a brother's eye ;

Calamity is oft the price of life,

For which one must endure the outrages

Of rebel subjects, and the pride of kings,

And (keenest sting of all,) a brother's scorn.

To crawl with worms, and beg dogs' moldy crums,
To bribe lean hunger to submission;

To drain sewers to appease my thirst,

Bated by justice' consolation,

Might come within the scope of my endurance.
But to be gulled and fleeced as I have been,
Insulted, wrong'd, proscribed, and banished,
It goads my patience into mutiny.

My harrowing of soul, my bloody purpose,
The dreampt-of murders, I have perpetrated,
Did Harold know, his teeth would chatter,

For fear of such an one as he hath made me.

Wrongs, countless wrongs, most wicked, wicked wrongs!
Yes! outlaw'd, banish'd, curs'd, condemn'd outlaw!
Burst, arteries, boil, heart full of fury!

Foam, rage, smite, kill

H. H.—

Hold! curb thine anger, madman!

With bosom tranquil as the breathless grave,
And countenance serene as angels' faces,
But with a heart malignant as the plague,
Silent, sure, and fatal, plan thy purpose.
And when the fit occasion comes, bestir thee,
Frown forth the hues of stormy wrath,
Conjure up the spirits of destruction,
Wake the dead midnight into war and terror,
And 'mid the whirl of battle, smite thy foe.

Tos. Can the chicken's pip appease the tempest?
Will the earthquake's rage be hushed to silence
When babies tap the ground with rattle-boxes?
As well the spirit, choked with testy spleen,
And venomous rage, can weigh the value
Of plans and purposes, and consequences,
Nice probabilities and accidents,

That need the hour of sober calculation.
The whispering breezes of a summer's eve
May soothe the soul to tender mournfulness.
But the wrong'd spirit stirs the blood to fury,
Till the o'erwrought heart is strained to bursting.
H. H.-Aye, therein lies the argument against thy rage.
For when the warrior goads his jaded limbs

To tempt the contest with the vigorous,

Pale terror chases from his cheeks the flash
Of momentary valor and excitement,

And his rebel muscles compromise
For mercy, fearing lest-

Tos.

Why, Norway, dost

Thou fix thine eyes upon the vacant distance?

H. H.-I see a cloud or semblance of it,

Just lifting from yon slope of clearing,

A seeming whirlwind-wreath of Autumn leaves.
No change of place, 'or if,' invisible.

A stream of light flashed from its base, methought,
As if a star did twinkle through it.

Tos.-Where? Harold! Now I have it in mine eye.
Those streams of light spring from the temper'd steel
Of an armed multitude.

H. H.—

Is't so?

Thy banded succors, or the royal foe?

Tos.-They should be friends, and hope too pleads for that.
Hold! the gentle breeze, that sways that veil of dust,
Flings forth a standard's hues, a checker'd cloth;
'Tis England's royal banner! and England too
Is coming on begirt for battle.

Go, herald, trumpet through the allied camp,
The banner'd foe is bearing down upon us,
Arm! for the strife, arm! and for victory.
H. H.-Wake Scandinavia, with thy trumpet tone,
And bid her to the jubilee of battle!

* *

*

(Enters a Messenger from King Harold.)
MESS.-Hear, Prince, and heed the import of my words-
The King demands withdrawal of thy forces
And on the bended knee of thy allegiance,
Renunciation of thy haughty claims

To England's crown, his, by right of suffrage;
And in guerdon offers thee the wide domain,
Northumberland in sovereign jurisdiction.
This refused, he bids me tell thee to compound
Thy numerous sins, with heav'n's justice,
For which his royal mercy grants an hour.
Tos. What terms of vantage doth he grant my ally?
MESS.- Seven feet of ground!

Tos.

A gift of obligation!