When Dondi put up the great astronomical clock in the University of Padua, that large, fortified city of Italy, it was the general admiration of Europe. It gave an imperishable nobility to its inventor and his descendants, and there still lives a Marquis Dondi dal' Horologio; so that, in this instance, we have a living monument of imperishable genius.

Genius severs an individual from the multitude. Though it may be assumed by the aspirant, nevertheless, let the true spirit come forth and resume her right; then all that the pretender can effect, is to watch and rejoice at the small errors of the sons of genius, as the owl at an eclipse.

Amid the most stern opposition, genius will flourish; for, as the diamond will sparkle, and the rose will be fragrant, so, amid the jealousy of the presuming, and the haughtiness of the moneyed aristocrat, genius will throw her light and fragrance.

Cardinal Richelieu was mortified in spirit at the celebrity of the unbending Corneille; and Magliabechi, the literary prodigy of his age, whom every learned foreigner visited at Florence, assured Lord Raley that the Duke of Tuscany had become jealous of the attention he attracted, as they commonly visited the former before the latter. It is too true, that the jealousy of the great is opposed to the deserved renown of literary characters. Montesquieu states, "When the public began to esteem me, my reception with the great was discouraging, and I experienced innumerable mortifications. The great, inwardly wounded with the glory of a celebrated name, seek to humble it. In general, he only can patiently endure the fame of others, who deserves fame himself." Johnson, Goldsmith, and Gray, fell under the contempt of Lord Oxford, though he was personally acquainted with them. We admire the dignity of Dr. S. Johnson, who disdained Lord Chesterfield's sneaking patronage, and chose to continue in his own majesty, rather than form an alliance with that time-serving hypocrite. Give us Swift, who said, "I value myself upon making the ministry desire to be acquainted with Parnell, and not Parnell with the ministry;" or Piron, who, on entering the apartment of a nobleman, who was conducting another peer to the top of the stairs, asserted his dignity in a becoming manner. "Pass on, my lord," said the noble master, "pass, he is only a poet." Piron replied, "Since our qualities are declared, I shall take my rank," and placed himself before the lord.

Julius the Second invited that great artist and author, Michael Angelo, to the court of Rome; but he found that intrigue had indisposed his Holiness toward him. Often the artist had to wait in attendance in the antechamber. One day his greatness broke forth, when he exclaimed, "Tell his Holiness, if he wants me, he must look for me elsewhere!" He fled back to his beloved Florence, to proceed with his celebrated cartoon. Thrice the Pope wrote for him to return; and at length he menaced the little state of

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Tuscany, if Angelo prolonged his absence. The painter returned; but the Pope might learn not to despise true genius.

Charles the Fifth used to say to his courtiers, "I can make lords of you every day, but I cannot create a Titian." There is a high intercourse between power and genius. The French statesman, De Harley, used to assert and vindicate intellectual greatness. When the academy once was not received with royal honors, he complained to the monarch, saying that, "when a man of letters was presented to Francis the First, for the first time, the king always advanced three steps from the throne to receive him."

So long as time continues, and grass grows, or waters run, the persons of genius will be revered. The lover of genius will walk the summit of Pausilippo, and muse on Virgil, to retrace his landscapes and recall his memory, or, "with the Allegro in his hand," upon Forest-hill, to tread the footpath of Milton. There is a grove at Magdalen College, which is called Addison's walk; and there is a cave at Macao, visited by the Portuguese, where Camoens is said to have composed his Lusiad.

Military rage has even respected the abodes of genius. Cæsar and Sylla felt reverence for the memory of genius, and saved the literary city of Athens amid the ravages of war. From the days of Pindar to Buffon, the house of the man of genius has been spared:

"The great Emathian conqueror bid spare

The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower
Went to the ground."

Genius elevates her sons and daughters to seats of honor and distinction. This is obviously true of the eloquent Massillon, the brilliant Flechier, and Diderot; Johnson, Akenside, and Franklin; and a host of others. The reader may remember the names of Lucretia M. Davidson, a native of Plattsburg, New York, and her sister, Margaret Davidson-sisters by nature and by song. The former died in her seventeenth year, the latter in her sixteenth. They sung together on earth; and when called to leave, they arose and took their harps to heaven, to sing the theme of redeeming love. They were daughters of genius. Hannah More instructed princesses, and Madame De Stael taught statesmen; but they are gone to the deep gush of balmy waters which break from the azure throne.

PUBLIC LIBRARIES.

THE number of volumes in the college libraries of this country, is not far from 300,000; in students' libraries, there are about 120,000; in the libraries of our theological seminaries, 80,000; in all other public collections, about 300,000 more. The total number, therefore, is about 800,000; while, in Europe, there are single libraries containing 400,000, embracing thousands of books never seen in this country.

A LARGE portion of the business of mankind in every age, has been to make rules for the regulation of society. Patriarchs, prophets, priests, kings, legislators, poets, teachers, and philosophers, have spent all the energies of their united intellect, in devising principles for the correction of the abuses and injustice, that the depravity of the human heart has been constantly creating among mankind. A Solomon, with Heaven-bestowed wisdom, could wisely instruct his son in many particulars, respecting his intercourse with his fellows; while he himself could not escape the bacchanalian debauch, or the lascivious corruptions of a wealthy court. A Socrates, or a Seneca, standing out in bold relief, in advance of the morals of the age in which he lived, could put forth many useful lessons of morality, in his efforts to calm the tumultuous waves on the ocean of depraved passion; but it was left for God to present, in one single sentence, a rule comprising man's whole duty to his fellow-a rule regulating every act of his, amid the diversified relations of society: "Do to others as you would that others should do to you."

This rule is applicable to every circumstance. Would you have your neighbor kind and obliging? Be ye so to him. Would you have your friend sustain your reputation, and apologize for your defects and inadvertencies? or would you have her add a tint to your reputed beauty, or charm to your intellect, or loveliness to your heart? Touch not her character, then, with the tongue of slander. Wouldst thou have her rejoice at thy prosperity, join in the acclamations of praise, and aid thee in thy pursuit of excellence and distinction? Let not the fires of envy burn in thy bosom. Wouldst thou have thy associate yield her opinion and purpose to thee, when thou art confident of being right? Be not thou contentious and overbearing in thy intercourse with her. Wouldst thou have thy companion give thee the preference, and study to promote thy happiness and not his own? Do thou so to him. Wouldst thou be at peace with all mankind? Harbor not in thy bosom the spirit of strife, nor let thy breath fan its flame. Wouldst thou receive the numerous attentions, which are designed to soften the asperities of life's rough course, and alleviate the sorrows of thy lot? Be not thou forgetful of the afflicted and the needy.

The Savior has given examples illustrative of the rule, and applying it to particular circumstances, such as, "Love thy neighbor as thyself;" "Love your enemies, and pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you;" "Render not evil for evil," &c. Thus did he establish a code of morals, the very character of which proves the divinity of their Author-the introduction of which among mankind forms an era in the history of thought, and

gives character to the Christian world, changing the order of human effort, teaching it not to labor for its own, but for the general welfare. And he taught these principles not by word alone, but by his life, by every act of his life, and, more, by his death, yielding his life for his enemies.

There are, to be sure, some shining examples of individual instances of an observance of this rule, among the unregenerate. We may see the private seaman extend his bare arm, to receive the blow aimed at Commodore Decatur's head. We may see the young physician engaged in a post mortem examination of the dead body of a victim of the plague, in hopes of obtaining some information that would enable his fellow-laborers to check the progress of the fell destroyer, and save his devoted city, when he knew that examination would cost him his life. We may see the storm-bound, starving mariner, volunteering to die, to become food for the surviving sufferers. We may see Leonidas, and a thousand other heroes of antiquity, sacrificing themselves upon the altar of their country's interest. In these instances, however, no small incentive were the splendid encomiums which they knew would flow from the hearts of their cotemporary countryman, and that halo of glory that would surround their names in the eyes of future ages.

But, excepting these few instances, the whole bent of human effort has been to secure its own selfish ends and aims, regardless of the consequences upon community. Almost the first act recorded of man was a violation of this rule. Adam would fain throw the blame of the fatal transgression upon Eve, and Eve upon the serpent. The blood of Abel declares the next great violation of it. Disregard to this rule was so general during the antediluvian period, that God, finding that "the wickedness of man was great in the earth," and that the earth was "filled with violence," repented that he had made man, and purposed to destroy him from off the face of the earth. And almost every subsequent step in the history of the world, is but a narration of events, where men, as individuals or nations, have bestowed upon others treatment that they would not willingly receive from them, requiring of others what they would be very reluctant to grant, or retaliating real or imaginary injuries, in violation of that part of the rule that prohibits the returning of evil for evil.

Jacob violated the rule upon Esau-Jacob's elder children upon Joseph; but Joseph gave a splendid exemplification of it, when he received, with affectionate, forgiving kindness, those brethren that sold him into slavery, and administered to their wants. In violation of this rule, to extend their possessions, or to seek redress for injuries, the wild tribes of barbarians have continued an unintermitting war, in some land, from the earliest dispersion of Noah's children even unto the present. To obtain for self a lasting name, Cyrus, Xerxes, Alexander, Cæsar,

and Napoleon, could stain the broad face of earth with the lurid streams of human blood, and bury nations of men beneath the car of their ambition. To remove the national disgrace caused by the inconstancy of Helen, and to punish the trespassing amours of Paris, must be poured out floods of blood and treasure, in a ten years' laborious struggle; and Trojan wealth and splendor, pride and population, be gorged to glut the bloody thirst of Greece. To gratify long-cherished Carthaginian and Roman hate and envy, repeated bloody wars must hurry thousands of guilty souls into a dread eternity, and, finally, wipe out Charthaginian greatness from the earth. And, for revenge, the accumulated rage of ages, bursting from its northern confines, rolled down and buried Roman pomp and power, wealth, beauty, literature, and refinement, beneath the gloomy mists of barbarism, and spread a cloud of moral darkness over the earth. In the proud ages of chivalry, the dust of an insulting word must be blown off by the expiring breath of a fellow-being. And, even unto the present time, only excepting where the pure principles of the Gospel of peace have obtained a controlling influence, the great principle of human selfishness is eagerly devouring mankind.

It is to the influence of this principle, taught by our Savior, that we owe all our political and social superiority over the inhabitants of the dark ages; because mankind have been taught to regard the rights of others as sacred as their own. This is the only ground of the political freedom of republican government. It is the only sure foundation of permanency in government. While the governing authority aims at securing only its own interest, encroaching upon the rights of others, it can retain that authority only so long as it has physical power to defend itself against all other interested powers. Such was the government of Bonaparte, the only aim of which was to secure the personal aggrandizement of its great head. But, where nations respect the rights of other nations, and confer upon them the treatment, in their national capacity, that they would wish to receive from them, there will be no occasion for an appeal to arms, and no nation will conquer another to add to its own greatness. And, where the rights of all the individuals of a nation are equally secured, there being no incentive to revolution, the government may continue just as long as this principle is regarded. So, too, with individuals. Act upon this principle, and there will be no occasion for contentions, disputes, litigations, &c.

Whatever is not according to this principle, is at war with the pure spirit of the Gospel, under whatever high pretensions it may appear; and it will meet the condemnation of the Judge, in the final day of accounts. What, then, shall we consider the character of Romanism? What stronger proof could we have, than her dark spirit of inquisition, her oppressive course, and the reeking blood of martyrs-what

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more do we wish to prove that she is a fallen angel, an adopted child of hell, and that the spirit that rules in her is the same one that reigns in the regions of darkness?

To be a true and holy disciple of the Lord Jesus, requires an observance of this rule in every particular; and yet, how few Christians that are not guilty of a violation of it in some degree! How many professors of Christianity there are, who harbor in their bosom hate toward a brother or sister! How often do we hear such remarks as the following: "I will not visit at Mrs. -'s, for Miss - will be there; she passed me in the street, and never looked at me. I will not speak to her till she does to me," &c. "If ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than they? Do not even the publicans so?" Again: "I am not pleased with brother's preaching: he appears to have so much self-complaisance and satisfaction;" "I would like to give that lady a cut, to lower her colors a little." These two remarks are of the same character, and both manifest a wish to deprive others of the satisfaction they experience in the contemplation of themselves. Again, speaking of some treatment received: "He will repent of that;" which expresses a design to return evil for evil. How often do we see a manifest desire to mar the feelings of some one, who is elated with prosperity, or is enjoying some way more than others, at that time! How often is personal enmity perpetuated, because one is too proud to offer, and another too proud to ask an explanation! How many scenes of neighborhood and domestic discord are generated by pride of opinion and purpose-by that desire in the human heart to have its own way and will, when all might have been avoided, if either had observed this rule, and followed the example of the venerable Wesley, in his treatment of his companion, Bradford! How often is friendship severed, by requiring of others services that we would not be willing to bestow, and then feeling ourselves offended by a refusal! Are not all these violations of the rule? Are they not all doing to others as we would not that they should do to us?

We are not surprised that heartless nations should disregard the rules of justice, trample upon the rights of each other, and march their hosts to war. Nor are we surprised that that man, in whose bosom reigns the dark spirit of infidelity, should love revenge-should delight to goad the tender sensibilities of the heart, or seek to wipe out a stain from his insulted honor with the blood of a fellow-being; but that the tender, timid, sympathizing, forgiving breast of a renewed, heaven-born daughter of the Most High, should be guilty of such a feeling, in the least degree, how contrary to true holiness-how contrary to our exalted ideas of her character! There is no personal insult that requires active resentment, and no injury that interest or the word of God requires us to retaliate.

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It is to the general observance of this rule, that we must look for the correction of all the injustice, and all the enormities which arise in the intercourse of man with man. And, O, what heart would not rejoice to see that time arrive, when every individual shall regard, as his own, the rights of every brotherwhen revenge and retaliation shall be things unknown-when that all-engrossing spirit of selfishness shall be banished to that world where it may find congenial spirits among the dwellings of the damnedand the tastes, pleasures, wishes, feelings, reputation, possessions, and welfare of all, be esteemed as dear to them as ours to us-when personal, neighborhood, and domestic broils shall become scenes of rare occurrence-when the sound of defamation, and malice, and envy, shall salute our ears no more-when courts of justice and compulsory law shall become superfluities when prisons and jails shall be untenanted-when report of crime and the executioner's hammer shall be heard no more-when the sunny breezes of the south shall bear on their wings to us no more the tears and groans of the oppressedwhen the last blast of the clarion of war shall have sounded and died away in the distance-in short, when all shall do to others as they would that others should do to them-when the peaceable kingdom of the Sun of righteousness shall be established throughout the earth, and man restored to many of the peaceful enjoyments of lost, lamented Paradise!

Christian, let thy prayers, thy precepts, and thy example, preach this principle to all the world.

BRING BACK MY FLOWERS.

Suggested by reading an article, in prose, on the same subject.

BY GEORGE JOHNSON.

-

On the velvet bank of a rippling stream,
Sat a bright-eyed, beautiful child;
On her neck was a wreath of rose-buds seen,
And her lap was with flow'rets fill'd:
Her face was bright as the sunshine that fell
Upon it-her voice was as clear

As the song of the bird that carol'd in the dell,
And warbled its sweet notes there.

The sweet little stream went singing along-
Went murmuring along at her feet;
Right well did the child like its gushing song-
Right well loved its melody sweet;

And, plucking, she threw to it flower after flower-
For their beauties how little she cared!-

Till her blossoms and buds, in the glee of that hour,
On the sparkling stream disappeared.

Then, seeing her loss, she sprang to her feet,
And cried to the brook that ran by:
"Bring back my flowers!" but the echoes repeat
Naught but the child's fruitless cry.
Though the sweet little stream went singing along-

Went murmuring still at her feet,
No longer she heeded its gushing song-
No longer its melody sweet.

"Bring back my flowers!" in anguish, she cried,
As the stream bore them, blooming and fair;
"Bring back my flowers!" only echoed its tide-
Only, tauntingly, echoed the air;
And, long after, mid the child's mournful cries,
And long in her sorrowing hours,
Did echo the stream, and the wailing winds' sighs,
The fruitless cry, "Bring back my flowers!"
Think, maiden, who wasteth thy youthful hours,
Of the child and her flow'rets so gay;
Life's moments to thee are perfumed flowers,
And are speeding, how swiftly! away:
Let their brightness and fragrance sweetly blend,
And to all around thee be given,
And thus, like an incense, upward ascend
To their bountiful Giver in heaven.

Else, when thou hast carelessly flung them from thee,
And seest them fast receding o'er

The swift fleeting tide of time's restless sea,
To return to thee, maiden, no more,
Like the child to the stream, thou shalt uselessly cry
To the past, in thy then saddened hours-
"Bring back my flowers!" and the only reply
Will be the echo-" Bring back my flowers!"

HAPPY CHOICE.

BY REV. J. W. WHITE.

I HAVE been at the palace where wealth held its seat,
And have marked her ineffable splendor and pride;
But from weeping and anguish it formed no retreat;
For my spirit still languish'd for something beside.
I then went to the feast of voluptuous joy,
Where were wine, song, and revel, and dancing,
and glee;

But the wine lost its relish, the viands did cloy,

And, in sadness, I sigh'd from the scene to be free. Then I went to the fount where the learned man drank,

And survey'd the fair fields of his classical lore; But my soul was not tranquil-there still was a blank To be fill'd by a science unstudied before. Then I flew to the cross: O, the Savior was there, To receive the poor penitent, panting for rest; I believ'd on his name-he gave hope for despair, And my soul was renewed-it was sanctified-blest. O, then, fly to this cross, who for happiness pine, Turn from folly and earth, while probation is giv'n: Then shall wisdom, redemption, and treasures be thine,

And a crown, palm, and palace, await thee in

heav'n.