those who will externally profess and conform to it; that though, indeed, these are criminal who do not withstand 'such temptation, yet neither are those innocent who lay the bait in their way; that to suffer the civil magistrate to intrude his powers into the field of opinion, and to restrain the profession or propagation of principles, on supposition of their ill tendency, is a dangerous fallacy, which at once destroys all religious liberty, because he being of course judge of that tendency, will make his opinions the rule of judgment, and approve or condemn the sentiments of others only as they shall square with or differ from his own; that it is time enough for the rightful purposes of civil government for its officers to interfere when principles break out into overt acts against peace and good order; and finally, that Truth is great and will prevail if left to herself, that she is the proper and sufficient antagonist to Error, and has nothing to fear from the conflict, unless by human interposition disarmed of her natural weapons, free argument and debate, errors ceasing to be dangerous when it is permitted freely to contradict them.

Be it therefore enacted by the General Assembly, That no man shall be compelled to frequent or support any religious worship, place, or ministry whatsoever, nor shall be enforced, restrained, molested, or burthened in his body or goods, nor shall otherwise suffer on account of his religious opinions or belief; but that all men shall be free to profess, and by argument to maintain, their opinions in matters of religion, and the same shall in no wise diminish, enlarge, or affect their civil capacities.

And though we well know that this Assembly, elected by the people for the ordinary purpose of legislation only, have no power to restrain the acts of succeeding Assemblies, constituted with powers equal to our own, and that therefore to declare this act irrevocable, would be of no effect in law, yet we are free to declare, and do declare, that the rights hereby asserted are of the natural rights of mankind, and that if any act shall be hereafter passed to repeal the present, or to narrow its operation, such act will be an infringement of natural right.

THE OUTCAST.

ALONE in this wide world,
Weary and sad I roam;
'Mong all its vales and hills,
I find, alas! no home.

In all the tribes of air,
Of forest and of sea,

There is no form of life,

But ceaseless frowns on me.

I find a foe in the winter

In the opening rose of spring,
In the waving grain of summer,
In the fruit on autumn's wing.

As I wander alone in this desert,

The sun pours his wrath on my head,
And at evening, the moon but illumines
My path 'mong the tombs of the dead.

While the stars, as they glitter unceasing,
Bright words on Eternity's scroll,
Pour their silent contempt on my spirit,
And charm the last joy from my soul.

Yet I linger, still chained in the shadow
Where rests mortality's surge,
While the grave, ever open before me,
Recedes as I press to its verge.

O grave! must it ever, ever be thus,
That the rose may decay at thy side,
While the refuge thy bosom might give me,
To my spirit is ever denied.

My soul does the impress immortal,
Lie under mortality's fold?

May the fire never burn-must it live,

Though the mountains upon it are rolled ?

Does the future continue the wretch,

Mortality casts on its shore?

Must I struggle for ever to die?

Am I doomed to life evermore?

SONNET

UPON MILTON'S "DEFENSIO POPULI ANGLICORUM.”

SIMMONS, in his life of Milton, relates that "such was the effect of Salmasius' attack on England, that it was not safe for a man on the Continent to acknowledge he was one of that nation. When Milton resolved to answer the great German, he was told that the labor would destroy his eyesight. When his vindication appeared, it was considered so complete that Salmasius died of a broken heart.”

When proud Salmasius, bitter as a fiend,
Arraigned Old England in the public eye,
And branded her with foulest obloquy,
So that the timid consciences were weaned
From one they deemed a ruthless regicide-
Then rose indignant Milton to reply,
Despite his warning friends, who prophesied
That such vast labor to his waning sight
Would plunge their orbs into eternal night;
But forth he poured his answer far and wide,

Till England stood sedately justified;
While he, the giant slanderer, fell and died.

But great the price paid for this victory,

Since, sightless Samson, the great task crushed thee!

IRVING'S LIFE OF WASHINGTON.*

FOR evil or for good, all men and nations are, to a greater or less extent, addicted to hero-worship. They have all some particular champion who illustrates their ideal, and in whom they see the most flattering points of their own character most perfectly and pleasingly exhibited.

But between American and other hero-worship there is a marked and most remarkable discrepancy. We venerate the virtues of the departed, whose work is done, and to whose acts the unalterable seal of death has been affixed: to the living we pay respect in proportion to their services and devotion to the common good; but the prudent jealousy of a republic forbids that her free citizens should unduly exalt-and, perhaps, by exalting seduce-any fallible and ambitious fellow-citizen.

But France put her neck beneath Napoleon's heel, because in him she found her nature and her aspirations best personified; while money-grubbing England knelt before Sir Robert Peel, and hailed him king of cottonshops and false economy.

In the practical, unostentatious sense of Washington-his powers of combination and retrieval-his unswerving courage and devotion to liberty, Americans find the best exemplar of the best and most prominent features of American character. Their hero is identified with their history, as much in its wild border-warfare with the Indians, as in that Titan struggle which overthrew the power of earth's then most powerful empire. And not alone in war identified; we find the impress of his calm and majestic intellect still stamped upon the Senate and the Council, upon society and individuals.

The more his character is studied-the more our Columbian youth can be led to contemplate the simple habits, single-hearted devotion, and unshrinking courage of George Washington-the higher will the standard of public morals rise, the wiser and the purer will be our statesmen, the braver and more scientific our commanders.

Believing this with a faith that fire can not burn out of us, we not only gladly but gratefully hail the first volume of such a life by such a writer-a volume

*Life of George Washington. By Washington Irving. New-York: G. P. Put1855.

nam.

complete in itself, though embracing but one third of its hero's career, to wit the earlier part of Washington's experience in his expeditions into the wilderness against the Indians, and during his campaigns in the Old French War.

It was during this period that the character of the future liberator of his country was formed; here he learned to endure hardship without complaint, to rely upon his own resources, to meet a repulse without despair, and victory without dangerous exultation. He learned to be patient, moderate, just, and brave.

Skillfully and genially, with all the charms of facile rhetoric and the loving playfulness of his exuberant heart, has the biographer approached his work. He is possessed of the first essential to a good biographer-the most unlimited admiration and regard for the object of his dissertation. Carlyle did not revel more in his picture of the life and character of Cromwell, nor Las Cases in his memoirs of Napoleon, than does Irving, "the old man eloquent," in his delineation of the Father of his Country-"first in peace, first in war, and first in the hearts of his fellow-citizens."

It would seem that the sage of Sunnyside is endeavoring to make atonement, in his old age, for that admixture of Anglicism which was the only taint that Americans used to notice with regret in his earlier and most brilliant productions. We could claim him as of our soil, and endued with much of our country's genius; but his style, both of composition and thought, bore the visible impress of a devotion to Sir Walter Scott; and to the fear of the scalping-knives in the hands of the Edinburgh Reviewers, Geoffrey Crayon, to a great extent, gave up the traits of his nationality and the more permanent fame to be derived from such verbal daguerreotypes as he could have taken of native scenes and native men.

Let us hope that, having made so good a beginning in the present volume -by far the most national of all his works-let us hope, we say, that he has seen the error of his ways, and that henceforth he is about to make restitution of his genius to his country.

The second and third volumes of this biography are very shortly to be published; and should they prove as interesting as the first-enriched as it is with many a sparkling anecdote, many a wild adventure, and many original documents, from proclamations down to billets doux, now first published— we promise to forgive the author for all the genius he might have devoted to, but has hitherto withheld from, his country.