After all, schemes and efforts to remove all the evils of the world at once oftener spring from ambition than from benevolence; though here as elsewhere, in the deceitfulness of our own hearts, we may not be fully conscious what principles set us at work. Sometimes such schemes may be easily traced to a flagrant neglect or violation of the most sacred and private duties of life on the part of their authors. The stings of conscience arising from this cause often fill the mind with gnawing discontent, and thus engage men in fierce endeavors to convict society of the sins which themselves have committed. This course serves the double purpose of enabling them at once to elude the bitings of remorse, and to agitate themselves into notoriety. It was probably on some such ground as this that Dr. Johnson once remarked, that the profession of patriotism was the last refuge of a scoundrel. But especially such a misderiving of evil from external and incidental sources, as the Associationists uniformly proceed upon, argues a total unfitness for the task of alleviating it; its sure effect, as in their own case, is, to set men upon adjusting the social relations in such a way as to dispense with, what, after all, is our only real hope, the regenerating efficacy of religion-upon getting up some wretched cutaneous appliances, to preclude the curing of our disease by removing its symptoms, and to augment its virulence by forcing it inward upon the vitals.

But what, perhaps, is worst of all in the doings and teachings of these men is, their tendency to puff men up with pride of immortality, by administering opiates and anodynes to the humiliating sense of guilt; for such, undoubtedly, is the legitimate effect of this doctrine, when disjoined from the ideas of justice and retribution with which it is naturally associated. Hence, perhaps, Mr. Channing's philanthropic solicitude for the "dignity of human nature," and his philanthropic apprehensions lest men should unduly compromise this dignity by carrying too much of self-distrust and selfabasement into the presence of their Maker. From some of his remarks, one would be apt to infer, that men should approach their Maker, not so much to ask his favor as to claim his respect; and that their most becoming sentiment towards him is, respect for themselves. But all this comes of losing the idea of justice,

and of course along with it the idea of mercy, which is, indeed, but a relaxation from justice. Truly the modern, O Lord, how love I mankind! is a great improvement on the ancient, O Lord, how love I thy law! We do not suppose this execrable stuff has got into Mr. Channing's heart, but it seems to have gotten into his head; and what gets into the heads of one generation is apt to be in the hearts of the next.

As if on purpose to preclude all grounds of spiritual pride and boasting, Providence has so ordered things that we often do most good where we least intend it, and least good where we intend it most. Thus we are perpetually admonished--and all experience proves how much we need the admonition-that it is ours to obey, not to administer, the laws of our Maker. Assuredly, he who neglects his definite, particular duties, and labors that he may be in a better condition to do them, will find the latter so long and hard a labor, that he will never be able to reach the former. It is curious, indeed, to observe what mistakes men make in regard to the matter of influence. In accordance with the prevailing spirit of improvement, the precept, Let your light shine, has been practically reformed into, Make your light shine. Hence, divers people go about making their light shine, until the very wind which their speed creates blows out the little light they have; and if, in their rapid, restless benevolence, they do not overturn and extinguish such lights as are content to shine quietly in their places, it will probably be because a good Providence is too strong for them. Nevertheless they are our children of light who, measuring their influence by their efforts to exert it, are yet abundantly filled with conceit of influence; and we all know that influence and conceit of influence are apt to be inversely proportioned. Oh, for a sermon on the text, Work out your own salvation; yes, your own salvation; your own salvation; never doubting in the least, that, as fast and as far as you make yourself salvable, Providence will save others by you, whether you will or no. Assuredly no power on earth can possibly prevent our influence from acting, provided we have any. How to get it, is the question; and a question too that is poorly met by those whose only concern is to exert it. On the whole, to obey is better, we suspect, than to exert an influence; for in obedience are involved the results of a deeper foresight

than is vouchsafed to any of us; but as the truly obedient man does not aim at those results, but simply at the obedience, so of course he has no occasion for pride and conceit of efficiency; what he does seems done by another through him; and thus

the stronger he becomes the more he feels his weakness. Such is the profound and beautiful wisdom of nature, which is as favorable to our virtue as it is hostile to our pride. Truly he who humbleth himself shall be exalted.

[BEFORE taking leave of the Classical Metres entirely, I wish to defend what some might consider a slip of mine in the first chapter. Homer speaks twice of the saddle-horse.

Ὡς δ' ὅτ' ἀνὴρ ἵπποισι κελητίζειν εν εἰδώς ὅστ ̓ ἐπεὶ ἐκ πολέων πίσυρας συναγείρεται ἵππους,

σεύας ἐκ πεδίοιο μέγα προτὶ ἄστυ δίηται, λαοφόρον καθ' ὁδόν· πολέες τέ ὁ θηήσαντο ἀνδρες ἠδὲ γυναῖκες· ὁ δ' ἔμπεδον ἀσφαλὲς ἀπὶ

θρώσκων ἄλλος ̓ ἐπ' ἄλλον ἀμείβεται, ὁἱ δὲ πέτονται.—Iliad, xv. 679.

As when a man that knoweth well on

THERE are two heresies on the subject of metre: one, that it makes no difference whether a line reads smoothly or not; the other, that no poem shows proper art unless it is written in a regular stanza, i. e. ten-syllable heroics. The one of these opinions is childish, the other old-womanish.

The man who really invents a new stanza is a poet. Caveat, I don't mean, obsolete one, as Longfellow took Drayby inventing a new stanza, reviving an ton's jolly old ballad of Agincourt—

"Fair stood the wind for France,
When we our sails advance,
Nor now to prove our chance

Longer would tarry;
But, putting to the main,
At Kaux, the mouth of Seine,
With all his loyal train,

Landed King Harry."

-and set his "Skeleton in Armor" to the same tune. I mean composing an entirely new combination of lines, as Shelley did in his "Sky-Lark," and Tennyson in his "Palace of Art." Such metres bear the stamp of originality and genius; it is not easy to analyze them

"Said he, 'I would dream so éver, líke the flowing of that river, Flówing éver in a shadow, gre'enly ónward to the séa."

But the lines, thus read, had a most unwieldy movement, compared with the evenly-falling couplets of Tennyson, such as,

"Never comes a trader; never floats a European flag,

Slides the bird o'er lustrous woodland, droops the trailer from the crag."

-where, out of fourteen feet, only three are not trochees. Accordingly, Blackwood's critic objected to the metre of "Lady Geraldine," as "awkward and lumbering," or something to that effect; and such was the general opinion respecting it. But to do these verses justice, they should be read with only four accents in a line, i. e. in feet of four sylla bles, the third only strong, corresponding to the classical pæan Tertius, the even lines being catalectic:

"Said he, 'I would | dream so éver,* | like the flowing of that river, | Flowing ever in a shadow | greenly ónward to the séa, |

So, thou vísion of all sweetness, perfect únto full compléteness,

Would my course of life flow onward, | deathward, through this | dream of thée.

In the last number of this work a summary statement was given of the precious metals at different periods of the world, commencing with the year 1492, and ending with 1840; also with the amount of the same in the U. States, commencing with 1820, and ending with the month of July, 1845.

It is now proposed to examine somewhat into their use, as an element in the promotion of that great increase of the wealth of nations which has occurred during the same period of time.

But before making such an attempt it may be well to state the views which influence the writer, in calling public attention to the subject.

To be therefore as concise as the nature of the case will admit, we propose to show that specie acts but a subordinate part in the great concerns of mankind; an indispensable one, undoubtedly, but still we think it may be shown to be by no means the basis of wealth, either national or individual; but that its presence or absence in any country will be just in

proportion to the amount of exchangeable value possessed from natural endowments, or from the manner in which human industry and human art shall use such endowments in the creation of such value.

It is further our design to show that, in the present advanced state of civilization, a well-regulated system of credit is the great basis which governs and controls the commercial and trading operations of the world, while the precious metals are only useful in the payment of balances, and in the preservation of the soundness of the currency.

To make these premises clear, it is necessary to state a few first principles, that may be considered almost in the light of self-evident propositions, which our more enlightened readers will excuse, since it is desirable to commence at the foundation, and start with well-settled data.

The great needs of man in a state of civilization, are suitable food and clothing, and comfortable habitations. For the first he resorts to the cultivation of the earth and to fishing, and the breeding of animals-for the second to the useful arts for the last to the forests and the mines, aided by the arts.

Now it must be evident that, if each individual provided himself through his own labor and skill, with each of the above necessities and comforts, there would be no use for money; and it follows from thence that money is only needed because it is found, as society advances, that a division of labor produces a great saving, both of labor and time-and that through such division of labor, a much greater quantity of the things sought for, can be produced in a given time by any number of persons residing in the social

state.

This being admitted, there are only two ways of making such exchanges as the mutual wants of the different members of society require. The first and crudest method is barter, or the exchange of one commodity for another and the other by establishing some common medium of exchange, which, by being least liable to a fluctuation in quantity, shall, therefore, at all times, and under all circumstances, retain a more settled value, in relation to all other commodities. As this medium became necessary from the advances of civilization, the precious metals offered the best possible means of affording the requisites sought for, and accordingly they were

resorted to for this purpose in the very incipient stages of society.

While the wants of man were few, and easily supplied, there was little commerce, but little money was needed, and therefore the precious metals were found to answer the purpose of effecting the necessary exchanges; but as human knowledge advanced, and society became more refined, human wants increased, nations were separated from each other, commerce took its rise-difference of soil, of climate, and of pursuits, greatly extended the products to be exchanged, and as early as the twelfth century other means were resorted to for extending the benefits of the precious metals and increasing the facilities by which a general supply of the commodities of life could be circulated.

In the twelfth century, in the year 1171, the Bank of Venice, the first institution of the kind on record, was founded. We have no very accurate accounts of the plan upon which its business was conducted; but as the Bank of Amsterdam, the second bank we read of, was probably copied from the Bank of Venice, it is presumed they were both administered upon the same principles, namely, that of receiving specie and bullion upon deposit, giving credit to the depositor on the books of the bank, and permitting him to draw his check upon it, in favor of any one to whom he wished to make payment; which person was, on presentation of such check, credited with the designated amount; the drawer being debited at the same time with the like amount. Neither of these banks issued any bills or notes as money. Still they were of great use to trade, inasmuch as this plan of payment prevented the necessity of counting or conveying the specie or bullion from one person to another.

The Bank of England, which was chartered in the year 1694, was the first bank which ever issued bills or notes to circulate as money in the transactions of trade and commerce.