tempest in a teapot might serve for the lads of the University to moot; but, surely, was unworthy the solemn adjudication attempted for it. Most fervently do we hope that the youth of that and all other American seminaries of learning may be brought up in the nurture and admonition of that patriotism which inculcates independence that we are a world by ourselves, disdaining the cloistered and cast-away prejudices of the old one! Otherwise our courts of justice are

Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,

This many summers, in a sea of glory,

But far beyond their depth.

In conversation lately with Mr. Livingston, Lord Durham er pressed his amazement at this Ostrogothic halt in our march, falling into the rear of the onward intelligence of Europe, and the spirit of the age, in which we have all the right of seniority. While British good sense, of all parties and professions, is pushing jurisprudence forward, in imitation of ours, there are those among our statesmen and barristers who strain every nerve to carry it back to what they preposterously worship as the ancient shrine. Instead of taking the lead, which belongs to us, they would fall behind and flounder in the mire. Preceptors we might be, but pupils we must be. This lamentable idolatry appears to be a malaria of the sea-board, where every arrival from abroad brings further trammels of colonial servitude. The distinguished advocate of Dartmouth College, a gentleman of superior powers, and Pinkney's legitimate successor, certainly, by this unworthy surrender of American independence, sacrifices his natural right to that high forensic eminence which his talents claim.

From the auspices of the first session of the renovated Supreme Court, we anticipate better things; the restoration of the Constitution; without shocks or reversals, by such quiet, conciliatory and unassailable adjudications as those pronounced in the cases just mentioned. True conservatives, we maintain original and practical authorities, and condemn only such abuses as have sufficiently exposed themselves by their consequences. But may we not without umbrage submit, that reconsideration has become indispensable of that series of judicial enactments by which private contracts, tax laws, church and police regulations, charter and other State rights were engulfed in a whirlpool deeper than ever plummet sounded, from which nothing but a change of pilots could save the vessel?

We are in the midst of a revolution. To be sure we are-when, since the Declaration of Independence have we not been so? Executive, legislative, popular and judicial revolution; progress is the necessary condition of American republicanism; but bloodless as yet-and like to be-the alter et idem of our peaceable but constant

agitation. What American would live out of it, or could live without it? Our whole system is a great perpetual experiment.

And with much satisfaction do we see the harmonious operation by which the Supreme Court, the President, as dedicated by his first imperishable message, Congress and the States, and the people of the States, are devoted to the great and glorious cause of reducing government and enlarging freedom as much as possible. May the experiment be constantly but fearlessly carried to the uttermost!

[THE "Pilgrims" of New England, even in their wilderness home, were not exempted from the sectarian contentions which agitated the mother country after the downfal of Charles the First, and of the established Episcopacy. The Quakers, Baptists, and Catholics were banished on pain of death from the Massachusetts Colony. One Samuel Gorton, a bold and eloquent declaimer, after preaching for a time in Boston, against the doctrines of the Puritans, and declaring that their churches were mere human devices, and their sacrament and baptism an abomination, was driven out of the State's jurisdiction, and compelled to seek a residence among the savages. He gathered round him a considerable number of converts, who, like the primitive Christians, shared all things in common. His opinions, however, were so troublesome to the leading clergy of the Colony, that they instigated an attack upon his "Family," by an armed force, who seized upon the principal men in it, and brought them into Massachusetts, where they were sentenced to be kept at hard labor in several towns, (one only in each town,) during the pleasure of the General Court, they being forbidden under severe penalties to utter any of their religious sentiments, except to such ministers as might, labor for their conversion. They were unquestionably sincere in their opinions and, whatever may have been their errors, deserve to be ranked among those who in all ages have suffered for freedom of conscience.]

Father! to thy suffering poor

Strength and grace and faith impart,

And with thy own love restore

Comfort to the broken heart!

Oh, the failing ones confirm

With a holier strength of zeal!—
Give thou not the feeble worm
Helpless to the spoiler's heel!

Father for Thy holy sake,

We are spoiled and hunted thus;
Joyful, for Thy truth we take
Bonds and burthens unto us:

Poor, and weak, and robbed of all,
Weary with our daily task,
That thy truth may never fall,

Through our weakness, Lord, we ask.

Round our fired and wasted homes
Flits the forest-bird unscared,
And, at noon, the wild beast comes
Where our frugal meal was shared;
For the song of praises, there

Shrieks the crow the livelong day,
For the sound of evening prayer
Howls the evil beast of prey!

Sweet the songs we loved to sing
Underneath thy holy sky-
Words and tones that used to bring
Tears of joy in every eye,—
Dear the wrestling hours of prayer,
When we gathered knee to knee,
Blameless youth and hoary hair,
Bowed, oh God, alone to Thee!

As thine early children, Lord,
Shared their wealth of daily bread,
Even so, with one accord,

We, in love, each other fed.
Not with us the miser's hoard,
Not with us his grasping hand;
Equal, round a common board,
Drew our meek and brother-band!

Safe our quiet Eden lay

When the war-whoop stirred the land,

And the Indian turned away

From our home his bloody hand.

Well that forest-ranger saw,

That the burthen and the curse

Of the white man's cruel law

Rested also upon us.

Grateful-that in bonds we share

In Thy love which maketh free, Joyful that the wrongs we bear

Draw us nearer, Lord, to Thee!

Grateful-that, where'er we toil-
By Wachuset's wooded side,
On Nantucket's sea-worn isle,
Or by wild Neponset's tide,-
Still, in spirit, we are near,

And our evening hymns, which rise
Separate and discordant here,
Meet and mingle in the skies!

Let the scoffer scorn and mock,
Let the proud and evil priest
Rob the needy of his flock,

For his wine-cup and his feast,-
Reddens not thy bolt in store

Through the blackness of thy skies?

For the sighing of the poor
Wilt thou not, at length, arise?

Worn and wasted, oh, how long
Shall thy trodden poor complain,
In Thy name they bear the wrong,
In Thy cause the bonds of pain!
Melt oppression's heart of steel,

Let that haughty priesthood see,
And their blinded followers feel,
That in us they mock at Thee!

In Thy time, oh Lord of hosts,
Stretch abroad that hand, to save,
Which of old, on Egypt's coasts,
Smote apart the Red Sea's wave!

Lead us from this evil land,

From the spoiler set us free,
And, once more our gathered band,

Heart to heart, shall worship Thee!

HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE OLD PAINTERS.

APELLES.

"Is Protogenes at home?" inquired a young man, as he entered the painting room of the artist.

"No, master," replied an old woman, who was seated near a pannel prepared for painting-"No, master; he has gone forth to breathe the fresh air-and much does he need it after toiling here all day. It is his custom, at the approach of evening, to go down to the sea-shore, and snuff the breezes that come skimming over the water from the Grecian Isles.".

"Is he then so laborious?" said the stranger.

"Aye, to be sure he is. They say he is determined to excel Apelles of Cos. Be that as it may, he never thinks his pictures are finished; but it is no business of mine-else I might say life is too short to spend three or four years in dwelling, and lingering still unsatisfied, over the same picture."

"Thy life does not seem to have been a short one, mother," said the stranger, examining the lines of care and sorrow, which had strongly marked a face that might once have been handsome.

She looked earnestly at him without replying.

"I have urgent business with Protogenes," said the stranger. “Very well; leave your name, and fix the time when you will come again. You cannot fail of finding him at home, when the sun gets above yonder loop-hole, and that is about the tenth hour in the morning."

The stranger drew a small tablet from under his robe, and seemed to be about inscribing his name ;-suddenly he approached the pannel, and, taking a pencil which lay near, drew simply a straight line. As he looked up, he perceived the old woman gazing intently upon it.

"Look, mother," said he, smiling, "canst thou read that name?" She fixed on him a steady look-"My eyes,” replied she, “ are dim with age-and I never was taught your Greek letters-but I can read thy face."

"And what dost thou read there?"

"That which my master is seeking—truth.”

"Dost thou think I am looking for it at the bottom of a well?” said the stranger, smiling.

"Ah," replied she, changing at once her air and manner, into one of wild sublimity-"Thou art not born to look down for it, but up, up!" and she raised her hand and pointed upwards.

"Art thou a sooth-sayer, good mother?" said the youth, with

reverence.