rience requisite to avert disaster. The democrats supported them as long as they urged forward the Revolution, and became their bitterest enemies as soon as they strove to allay its fury. They were constantly misled by expecting that intelligence was to be found among the lower orders; that reason and justice would prevail with the multitude; and as constantly disappointed by experiencing the invariable ascendant of passion or interest among their popular supporters ;-the usual error of elevated and generous minds, and which so frequently unfits them for the actual administration of affairs. Their tenets would have led them to support the constitutional throne, but they were unable to stem the torrent of democratical fury which they themselves had excited, and compelled, to avert still greater disasters, to concur in many cruel measures, alike contrary to their wishes and their principles. The leaders of this party were Vergniaud, Brissot, and Roland; men of powerful eloquence, generous philanthropy, and Roman firm-. ness; who knew how to die, but not to live; who perished because they wanted the audacity and wickedness requisite for success in a Revolution.

The radical and inherent vice of this party was their irreligion; and the dreadful misfortunes in which they involved their country proved how inadequate the most splendid talents are to the management of human affairs, or the right discharge of social duty, without that over-ruling principle. With all theit love of justice, they declared Louis guilty; with all their humanity they voted for his death. The peasants of La Vendée, who trusted only to the rule of duty prescribed in their religon, were never betrayed in the same manner into acts for which no apology can be found. Whenever statesmen abandon the plain rules of duty and justice, and base their conduct on the quicksands of supposed expediency, they are involved in a series of errors which quickly precipitate them into the most serious crimes. But the greatest efforts of human wisdom or virtue are unequal to direct or sustain the mind in the trying scenes which a Revolution induces it is the belief of futurity, and a sense of religion alone, which can support humanity in such calamities; and their want of such principles rendered all the genius and philanthropy of the Girondists of no practical avail in stemming the disasters of the Revolution.

-ALISON.

Go, dream no more of a sun-bright sky

With never a cloud to dim!

Thou hast seen the storm in its robes of night,
Thou hast felt the rush of the whirlwind's night.
Thou hast shrunk from the lightning's arrowy flight,
When the Spirit of Storms went by!

Go, dream no more of a crystal sea
Where never a tempest sweeps!

For thy riven bark on a surf-beat shore,
Where the wild winds shriek and the billows roar,
A shattered wreck to be launched no more,
Will mock at thy dream and thee

Go, dream no more of a fadeless flower
With never a cankering blight!
For the queenliest rose in thy garden bed,
The pride of the morn, ere the noon is fled,
With the worm at its heart. withers cold and dead
In the Spoiler's fearful power!

Go, dream no more! for the cloud will rise,
And the tempest will sweep the sea;
Yet grieve not thou, for beyond the strife,
The storm and the gloom with which earth is rife,
Gleam out the light of immortal life,

And the glow of unchanging skies!

--MRS.

THE YOUNG MEN OF CANADA.

WHAT a large, wide, happy home is the land we live in have found it a goodly land, and have no sympathy with who love it not! There is no piety, no genuine Christi in the heart of him who does not love his country, nat adopted! He cannot be a true, large, leal-hearted man looking through the vista of coming years, does not hope his own country grow greater and more glorious; and he true Canadian who does not cry, in the words emblazon my left, "Peace and Prosperity to Canada." There are around me doubtless, who sympathise with the poet who these lines a few years ago :

"They say thy hills are bleak,

They say thy glens are bare

But oh! they know not what fond hearts
Are nurtured there.

"Scotland! I love thee well,

Thy dust is dear to me-
This distant land is very fair
But not like thee."

It matters not on what line of latitude or longitude it may be, one's native land should be the dearest, sweetest, and most hallowed spot on this side of heaven. Canada, our country! we love it; and because we love it, we wish you, young men, to be worthy of it. Our fathers have done much. They came from almost every country beneath the sun. They were a varied people; and we are, to some extent, varied still. Their national, educational, and ecclesiastical prejudices were varied. They had but one thing to bind them together; the deep fertile soil beneath their feet, and the clear canopy of the bright blue sky above their heads. Pioneers in this goodly land, some have found a home—many only a grave, and on the resting place of these we should tread lightly, doing reverence to their ashes, and living so as to honor them. With you, young men, I arm for the conflict, and gird myself for the coming struggle. We are the strength of the country. Upon us it depends whether, in twenty years, this country shall be progressive, and rise to assume its own just place in the heraldry of nations, and have the proud boast of possessing a God-fearing people; whether it shall become a dark spot in the geography of the world, and, by and by, vanish altogether, or whether intelligence and industry shall place Canada in the vanguard of nations.

-ORMISTON.

THE JOYS OF HOME.

SWEET are the joys of home,
And pure as sweet; for they,
Like dews of morn and evening, come
To wake and close the day.

The world hath its delights,
And its delusions too;

But home to calmer bliss invites,
More tranquil and more true.

While gently rolls the stream, along
The peaceful valley's side.

Life's charities, like light,
Spread smilingly afar ;

But stars approach'd become more brigh
And home is life's own star.

The pilgrim's step in vain
Seeks Eden's sacred ground!
But in home's holy joys, again
An Eden may be found.

A glance of heaven to see,
To none on earth is given;
And yet a happy family

Is but an earlier heaven.

THE THREE SISTER ARTS.

Of all the arts, sculpture and architecture, from their and excellence, have the most powerful claims to the of a great nation. They afford the only means of sh enduring interest and a never-failing lustre over t and achievements of a people. They are truly nati What imperishable fame and glory have they reflect nations of antiquity for a long succession of ages! monuments of these arts not remained to us, ruined a as they are, could we have formed so high an estim national power and glory of Egypt, Greece, and Ro finest paintings, whether in fresco or oil, cannot ret coloring beyond a certain lapse of time, should they ev the numberless accidents to which they are hourly Yet a few revolving ages, and the greater number will exist; they will be known to posterity only by copies gravings. But every painter cannot hope, like Raffael a Na c Antonio Raimondi to hand down his works to ] When after a few fleeting centuries, the admired pro of the great masters shall have perished with those of a the works of the statuary and architect will continue in all their freshness and vigor; and even when m defaced and in ruins, remain objects of interest and ad

to a distant posterity, rising, as it were, from their ashes into a second and more glorious apotheosis.

If Rome and the surrounding nations of antiquity were indebted to Greece for their knowledge of classic art, the moderns owe her a similar debt of gratitude. To the remains of Grecian sculpture we are solely indebted for the revival of modern art and the true principles of taste. From them Buonarotti and Raffael caught the spark of inspiration which was soon destined to blaze forth in the sublime works of the Sistine Chapel and Vatican Chambers. Without these remains we could neither have known nor appreciated the perfection of Grecian art and design, of which we might have remained as ignorant as we now are of their music and theatrical recitation. With the exception of the paintings preserved by a kind of miracle in Herculaneum and Pompeii, the imperfect remains in the baths of Titus and the palace of the Cæsars, and a few others, such as the Aldobrandini marriage—all the works of the greatest painters of antiquity have perished. What had we to guide us in the research but the vague descriptions, faint and contradictory allusions to art in ancient authors, not excepting the valuable, though often obscure, treatise of Pliny?

Architecture, sculpture, and painting, are truly and emphatically styled sister arts. Neither can attain its highest rank and grace, without the aid and co-operation of the other two. Sculpture and architecture are, however, more closely united; they are in a manner twin sisters. They are not so much separate arts, as branches of the same art. In Egypt, Greece and Rome, they rose and flourished together. In the decline of art, though corrupted and degraded, they are still found united. The same union is to be found in all the varieties of the Lombard, Norman, and Gothic, as well as the Italian and modern styles. Strip the Egyptian temple or palace, the Athenian Parthenon, the Roman triumphal arch, the Vatican Basilica, the Duomo of Florence or of Milan, the cathedrals of York or Lincoln, of their statuary, and you at once deprive them of their most beautiful and interesting attributes. Not only has sculpture strong claims to public patronage from its intrinsic excellence as a national art, and its indissoluble connexion with architecture—but from its powerful influence over the higher departments of painting and design. Like the three Graces, the three sister arts cannot be separated with impunity. We