apparent, though attended by others in which difference is no less marked, a corresponding relation may naturally be expected, and will, in fact, be found to exist. In order, then, to deduce from two or more events a general law, and apply it to a similar situation, we must fix our attention on two species of features; namely, those of similarity and those of difference, which are characteristic of each event in particular. In the former, we have as the basis of all resemblance that human nature which is common to men under every variety of circumstance, which, modified, as it undoubtedly is, by innumerable temporary or local influences, retains, in every age and in every nation, some deeply-graved and indelible principles, subject to the same affections, when the same motives are roused into activity. Hence the advantage for the study of history to be derived from an intimate acquaintance with the working of our own minds, and more especially in those points in which it has most in common with the minds of others. To watch the peculiar and distinguishing marks of our character may be most important to us as individuals; but as inquirers into the moving powers of human action generally, we must learn what we have in us common to our species, and seek in the minds of all around us for feelings answering to our own. Thus may the daily intercourse of society, and chiefly when it brings us into contact with men of deeper thought and feeling than ordinary, contribute to our progress in the true investigation of history.

It could be wished that the development of these great principles, in their bearings on political and religious transactions, were more decidedly the object of those who have devoted their talents to works of historical research. They would then be best fulfilling the duties of the office which they have taken on them, when they deduced from the investigation of the past well-founded general conclusions, available for our direction in regard of the future. As mere annalists, they perform a necessary and highly useful labour, but one which certainly does not demand the strongest exertions of intellect; they but collect and transmit the mass of materials, which the skill of others is to reduce to an intelligible and profitable form. Among the ancients, Thucydides stands out as the truly philosophical historian. In a few words, he explains the leading features of every event of which he treats, and points out the motives which actuated those engaged in it, and the causes which conduced to its existence. Often in a single sentence he includes the substance of an essay; and into a pithy

maxim concentrates the result of deep thought and clear-sighted political wisdom. The same observation will apply to the Roman Tacitus, though perhaps he has not the depth and comprehensiveness of mind so conspicuous in the great historian of Greece. The circumstances, too, of the times in which he lived afforded him, perhaps, less opportunity for observing the human intellect under a variety of situations and influences. The recently published work of Mr. Alison, from which I have already quoted, affords a striking instance of the union of vivid narration with calm and philosophical reflection. The great moral principles developed in the progress of the French revolution are there pointed out to us as the true and important lessons to be learned from the study of its events; while its scenes rise before us in all the brightness of reality, and the actors on its mighty stage are marshalled in our sight, as it were, in the very robes in which they played their parts. Thus, to study history requires a long and laborious course of investigation; to enter into the very spirit of events, and trace the causes which preceded and the effects which followed them, demands the unremitted toil of a lifetime. This method of study, too, is not without its dangers it must not be disconnected from that system of which I have before spoken, or the benefits to be derived from it will be in great part neutralized. The perils attendant on it, and the precautions necessary to meet them, must form the subject of a future paper. There is, however, something truly sublime and exalting in the prospect of history viewed in this light. To look back on past ages, not as a barren waste, producing no fruits for our nourishment,—on the annals of by-gone days, not as lifeless records of what has been, but as replete with instruction for us, as developing, in all their grandeur, those divine and eternal laws which regulate the actions of mankind, and are ever working out, in the midst of this chaos of good and evil, the beneficent designs of an all-wise and almighty Governor,—is a prospect which may well fill the soul with mingled emotions of joy and veneration. The christian historian who can forget to point out in every event the hand of a Divine Providence, forgets the highest and most important privilege of his office. It should ever be his earnest desire to sympathize with the poet in his prayer

"That to the height of HIS great argument

He may assert eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to man.'

99

G. S. W.

THE ALBATROSS.

PROUD roamer of the ocean,

Bird of untiring wing,

Whose playmates are the wild sea-winds, With the billows revelling:

Away, away, white albatross!

From the tall bark speed away;
For man has marked thy fearless flight,
And lures thee to betray.

Ere yet bold Enterprise had launched
The first ship on the flood;
And man, in trembling wonder,
On the wide deep's margin stood;

E'en then, thou ocean eagle,

The waves were all thine ownThy broad wing's waving banner Flew proudly there alone.

And when the hardy rover

Had dared the pathless wave, Around his head thy wheeling flight A fearless welcome gave:

But the bait of hidden treachery,

And the death-shot to the heart,

Such response to thy greeting
The wanderers impart.

The big round tear is streaming

From thy dark, upbraiding eye;
Large drops, too well beseeming
Thine inward agony.

No more thy free wing joyously
O'er the rolling waves shall soar;
And thou, no more confiding,

Shalt be betrayed-no more.

On some far isle of ocean,

Where the hated foot of man

Ne'er stamped the rights of slaughter,
Thy chainless life began.

And there, e'en now, perchance, thy mate
May idly droop and mourn,

Awaiting, ah! how hopelessly,
Her ocean lord's return.

O man! upon thy "heart of hearts,"
Be the deathless truth imprest;

He liveth well who loveth well
Both man, and bird, and beast:

The noblest works of Nature,

The meanest worms that moveAll, all were made in mercy,

And all were made to love.

The storm, that now in slumber
Foldeth his iron wing,
Ere long may wake in thunder
The deep's wild revelling.

His wrath may pass in vengeance
O'er the tall ship's stately pride,
And hopes of home and safety
For ever be denied.

Then, then, strong bird, exultingly,
Thy broad, white wing shall spread

A proudly circling canopy

O'er the dying and the dead;

And the last cold stare of agony
Shall reach thy glancing form,
As scorning now the scorner,
Thou ridest on the storm.

Aye, hearts all warm with feeling,

And cheeks where Love hath spread

The tinge, his rays revealing,

Are numbered with the dead;

And the dark wave rolleth onward,
As it rolled an hour before,
But the bark it bore so gallantly,
That bark is seen-no more.

Then fare thee well, white Albatross,
We ne'er shall meet again;

But we leave thee to the elements,

Thine ancient boundless realm.

The storm that hurls the splintered wreck

In fragments to the sky,

Shall roll around thine aery steep,

Thine own sweet lullaby.

STANS PEDE IN UNO.

RANDOM SKETCHES,

FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A TRAVELLER IN THE UNITED STATES.

No. VII. VIRGINIA.

MANY who may chance to cast their eyes on these pages, may wonder at my temerity, in heading what must necessarily be so short and hasty a paper as the present, with the name of one of the largest and most important states in the American Union; and smile at the confidence with which I seem, in such circumscribed limits, to enter on the description of a province equal to England in size, and scarcely inferior to it in romantic and picturesque beauty. But, in truth, to treat of Virginia as it deserves, would require a far more eloquent pen than I can wield, and much more extensive space than can be afforded by the pages of the KING'S COLLEGE MAGAZINE; so that I shall rather content myself with a sketch of the principal natural beauties of the state, and the peculiarities in the character of its inhabitants, than venture upon ground which affords so great a scope for eloquence, and in which, consequently, I am so much less likely to gratify and amuse.

First, then, of the people; for to these I am always inclined first to direct my attention, as on their character and manners depend much of the traveller's enjoyment; and also because, in the natural order of things, they should claim priority of notice. In regard to personal appearance, the slight outline of the general characteristics of the Baltimoreans, which I gave last month, will, in a great measure, apply; though, from the continual and lavish use of tobacco in every form, more especially in chewing, the men are wanting in manly vigour, and their pale and haggard countenances bear ample testimony to the destructive effects of this pernicious weed. Throughout America, indeed, the use, or rather abuse of tobacco is prevalent in a most unpleasant degree; but in no portion of the Union is it so universal as in Virginia, where it seems almost one of the necessaries of life to a great proportion of the inhabitants. Apart, however, from the effects which are thus produced, and which show themselves in dull and sunken eyes, pallid complexions, and emaciated frames, the Virginians are a fine, tall, manly race; and the ladies, who, I believe, do not use the narcotic stimulant, except in some rare cases, will compare with