upon it, always a shallow man. Of course, I speak of those to whom the faculty of easy speaking is natural. The deepest intellects may acquire it by practice. There is ever an analogy between the state of literature and the state of society. There was an age, perhaps, when the wide earth, and he that first entered on the fair plain, or took upon himself to clear the woodland of its waste fertility, might call the spot he occupied his own. That age is past; yet every

No

man, who has the means, may make a plot of earth his own. So is it in the world of imagination. doubt there has been a time when the moon and the blue sky, and the rose and the lily, and the dove and the nightingale, were new in verse: there must have been a poet who first introduced them. Yet the moon shines still, the sky has not ceased to be blue; the rose and the lily are fair and sweet as ever; the dove is just as loving and gentle as when she brought the olive leaf to the sole human family; and the nightingale sings as sweetly to us as to that sweetwitted Persian who first called the rose her paramour. And do we, in these later days, merely inherit our love for these things, so fair and lovely? Thanks to the great men of old; we love them for their sakes; but we love them for their own too. Our affection is hereditary; but it is original also.

We know not whether Pythagoras was the first or only man that ever conceived the famous forty-seventh proposition; yet who would deny to his rapturous svgnxa the joy and triumph of originality?

ενρηκα

There is one thing which, I trust, has been repeated from generation to generation, which is, neverthe

less, a complete original, without which all originality is worse than good for nothing-an everflowing fountain of noble thoughts and kind emotions, which are its own, and none can take from it—a thing which must ever be original, for no art can copy it, and God alone can bestow it-a good heart.

MEDALS, OR OBVERSES AND REVERSES.

IN like manner as our JANUS possesses two faces, so does almost every thing else in the world present two aspects under which it may be viewed,-the one brilliant and attractive, the other gloomy and terrifying. Ogni medaglio ha il suo reverso, says the Italian proverb, every medal has its reverse,--a remark that applies to both men and things; for what character is so illustrious as not to have its shadowed side? What so totally dark as not to exhibit a few light spots? or what so perfect as to be productive of no abuse?—so evil as to be mitigated by no concomitant alleviation? Let us therefore examine a few of our medals on both sides. To do so may afford us some amusement, and perhaps a little instruction too.

GOLD.-HOW many virtues does this metal possess ! -how many comforts and gratifications does it procure!-how many defects does it not conceal !—It endues even the weakest mortal with the strength of a hundred hands; provides for him the luxuries of every clime; secures for him on all sides homage and admiration. What though nature, like a malignant stepmother, has denied him her most ordinary gifts? this gift of fortune amply avenges him for her neglect, and he sees himself the object of universal regard and envy. Could gold secure but mere sensual

indulgence-pamper only the body-the philosopher might scorn it; but it obtains also for its possessor the attention of the wise, the smiles of the beautiful. It is the key that opens to him the gates of the proud and the great,—the magic talisman that transports him wherever he wishes, and becomes whatever he wills;-it enables man to succour misfortune, to relieve distress, and to be to his fellow-creatures a benevolent genius. No wonder, then, that mortals adore in their hearts a metal of such admirable potency, and superior in its effects to all the enchantments and charms that romance has fabled.

Let us, however, cast a glance at the reverse. Alas! how numerous are the crimes to which gold has given birth! It has bribed the betrayer of his country; it has hired the sword of the assassin; it has paid woman the price of her infamy and shame; it has sometimes even warped the scales of justice, and has purchased for guilt the title of virtue. What is there so precious that mortals will not sacrifice it to this idol? Liberty, independence, honour, affection, health of body and peace of mind, love of country and love of kindred, are all offered up to it by turns. Sleepless nights, days of unceasing toil, are submitted to for the sake of gold; it is the ready pander of vice, the insidious foe to virtue.

WAR.-When we gaze upon the obverse, we perceive only the pomp and sublimity which the poet and historian have conferred upon this pursuit. We admire the generous enthusiasm of combatants, the pageant of the tented field; we hear only the spirit-stirring trumpet, the clang of arms, and the shouts of victory. Hurried away by enthusiasm, we

involuntarily bow before the chariot of the conqueror, and join in the general acclamation. The successful warrior is seen standing like a demi-god, crowned by immortality and glory.

But what a frightful contrast does the other side of the medal offer to us!-There the victor seems a destroying angel sent to exterminate his fellow-creatures, spreading desolation and misery, and carrying servitude and oppression wherever he directs his course, while ten thousand nameless horrors follow in his train.

GLORY, Fame, Immortality ;-these are the words inscribed on our third medal; and our bosoms thrill with pride when we contemplate the generous and noble actions which they have inspired: they recall to us the names of those who have generously devoted their lives and their talents to the service of the human race,-who have laboured for the weal of remote posterity. Yes; well do such characters deserve that their memories should be honoured with every testimony of regard that gratitude can bestow. Mankind are only just when they thus bestow on their benefactors the attributes of more than human power, and repeat their names from age to age. Surely to this medal there can be no reverse; yet let us turn it, and we shall perceive that infamy, too, possesses its immortality, and that with an almost incredible fatuity men have agreed to bestow admiration on actions that merit only abhorrence or contempt; thus casting a false splendour over successful crime. The name of a Nero is as secure from oblivion as that of a Titus; an Achilles or an Alexander more known and honoured than a Howard or a Sharp.