Of the other, which it appears from one of Cicero's letters to Atticus, contained instructions for a statesman, there is nothing left here but the dream of Scipio,* probably the best part of it, has come down to us through other channels.

The editor has illustrated the text with notes, which are equally creditable to his diligence and learning. He has further endeavoured to supply some of the deficiencies in the Dialogues by extracts from Lactantius, Augustine, Nonius, and other writers, by whom they had been explained, or referred to in particular passages and words; but candidly owns his belief, that there are yet other remains of them to be discovered in the writings of those two fathers of the church. Much, however as we respect the industry and erudition which have been here employed, we should recommend the printing of the fragments without any addition, and the dispersing of them widely through those nations on the continent of Europe, which have most need to be remind ed of the great truths which they enforce. They seem to have emerged at the present juncture almost providentially to admonish all parties of those first principles of policy; that as, on the one hand, legitimate power cannot long be retained without wise concessions to the will and judgment of the people-for that it will otherwise inevitably lead to despotism, debasing to all, but most of all to those by whom it is exercised-so on the other, the popular will and judgment, if they be not moderated and directed by the councils of those whose station in life, intellectual attainments, and virtues, entitle them to the name of " principes" can be productive only of universal confusion and misery.

It may naturally be asked whether every one does not already know this to be very true? No doubt every one does; but it is one thing to know this, and another to hear Cicero starting up in the Vatican from a sleep of near two thonsand years, and proclaiming it afresh to the world.

POETRY.

The Sailor's Life at Sea,

1. WHEN the anchor's weigh'd and the ship's unmoor'd,
And landmen lag behind, sir,

The sailor joyfully skips on board,
And swearing prays for wind, sir:
Towing here,

Yeoing there;

*It was also imitated from the Vision of Er in the last book of Plato's Republic an inedited Commentary on which, by Proclus, is promised us by the editor, in one of his notes. P. 311.

Steadily, readily,
Cheerily, merrily,

Still from care and thinking free
Is a sailor's life at sea.

2. When we sail with a fresh'ning breeze,
And landmen all grow sick, sir,

The sailor lolls with his mind at ease,
And the song and the can go quick, sir:

Laughing here,

Quaffing there,
Steadily, &c.

3. When the wind at night whistles o'er the deep,
And sings to landmen dreary,

The sailor fearless goes to sleep,
Or takes his watch most cheery.
Boozing here,

Snoozing there,
Steadily, &c.

4. When the sky grows black and the wind blows hard, And landmen skulk below, sir,

Jack mounts up to the topsail yard,
And turns his quid as he goes, sir,

Hawling here,
Bawling there,
Steadily, &c.

5. When the foaming waves run mountains high
And landmen cry, "all's gone," sir,
The sailor hangs 'twixt sea and sky,
And jokes with Davy Jones, sir:
Dashing here,
Splashing there,
Steadily, &c.

6. When the ship d'ye see becomes a wreck
And landmen hoist the boat, sir,
The sailor scorns to quit the deck,
While a single plank's afloat, sir;
Swearing here,

Tearing there,
Steadily, readily,

Cheerily, merrily,

Still from care and thinking free,

Is a sailor's life at sea.

ADDRESS TO WINTER.

WINTER! I hail thy empire drear,
And see thee with a sigh depart;
Others may deem thy frown severe-
I love thee clouded as thou art.

For what if summer shall afford

Repose in evening's twilight hour;
'Tis thine to crown the social board,
Nor less to charm thy lonely pow'r.

My study clos'd and stirr'd my fire,
Hence be the threat'ning tempest hurl'd:
Within myself I can retire-

My shutters have shut out the world.

WEEPING BEAUTY.

FROM morn to night, or griev'd or glad,
LUCILLA'S looks are always sad;

Her 'kerchief she with tears is steeping!
Some think the pretty girl gone mad,
But lately I the reason had-

She looks most beautiful when weeping!

ON AN IGNORANT PHYSICIAN-IN TIME OF PESTILENCE.

DEATH and the Doctor to destroy

Poor mortals have agreed

But why need both their cares employ,
When one can do the deed.

"O stay one moment"-Chloe said,
And trembling hasted to the door;
"Here Betty, quick-a pail, dear maid,
"This madman else, will stain the floor."

To A FRIEND.

THOUGH many a year'may pass away,
In joylessness of heart,-
As o'er the road of life we stray,
On pathways far apart:

Yet still the thought of thee, till death,
Shall dwell upon my soul;
Nor shall my spirit sink, beneath
Despondency's controul.

Though long the wintry tempest blow,
Hope's everlasting tree

Dies not, the trunk lives on, although
The leaves drop witheringly.

But if for me it bloom no more,
If we no more may meet;
Yet shall this heart be cold, before

It cease for thee to beat.

If destined to an early tomb,

My latest prayer shall be,

That fond Affection's flowers, may bloom
On thee, their sweetning fragrancy.

Still may'st thou meet with kindness here,
And still a friend be thine,

To share each pleasure, calm each fear,
And soothe with love like mine.

THE WISH.

[Oh! si sic omnia, is the warmest wish that we feel while we transcribe from the pages of a modern tourist, a Sonnet occasioned by the romantic scenery that surrounded the neat little cottage of a Swedish peasant.

HERE, far from all the pomp ambition seeks,
Much sought, but only whilst untasted prais'd:
Content and Innocence, with rosy cheeks,

Enjoy the simple shed their hands have rais'd.

On a grey rock it stands, whose fretted base

The distant cat'ract's murmuring waters lave:
Whilst o'er its grassy roof, with varying grace,
The slender branches of the white birch wave.

Behind, the forest fir is heard to sigh,

On which the pensive ear delights to dwell;
And, as the gazing stranger passes by,

The grazing goat looks up, and rings his bell.

Oh! in my native land, ere life's decline,
May such a spot, so wild, so sweet, be mine.

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

The Pioneers.-The new novel, entitled The Pioneers, seems to have excited a sensation among the artists, altogether unprecedented in the history of our domestic literature. We learn from New York that Mr. Dunlap has on his easel a painting from the work, in oil, five or six feet square; and there is another, of similar size, by a competitor, whose name has not been mentioned to us. In Philadelphia, Mr. Fairman and Mr. Childs, have several designs in hand, which are intended for the embellishment of The Port Folio. We have seen at the Athenæum in this city, an illustration of the Panther scene, which had been particularly selected for the attention of artists by the writer of a review of The Pioneers in a late number of the Port Folio. It is a painting in water colours by Mr. Thompson, of Susquehanna County. The scenery in his neighbourhood is similar to that of the supposed location of the tale; and we think in this respect, that the painter is entitled to much praise. His design is also good; but the figures are not in so commendable a Mr. Cooper has also had the good fortune to call forth the Muse of poetry to sing his praises, as we observe in some of the Eastern papers. In short, poetry and painting seem to have combined with criticism, in rewarding our author for the engag ing manner in which he has depicted our own fire-sides. In assigning to Mr. Cooper a high station among the novelists of the present day readers and critics cheerfully concur; and no discordant notes are heard but from prejudice or malignity.-Gaz. U. S.

taste.

Darby's Edition of Brook's Gazetteer.-This is a new and greatly improved edition of a work, which has long been advantageously known to the public. In those articles, however, which related to this country, it was often deficient and frequently erroThese defects have been supplied by the care and industry of Mr. Darby, who has travelled over those parts of our ex

neous.