'You wood does but perish new seedlings to cherish.

And the world is to live yet for thee.'"

The ballads are a series of half-dramatic lyrics, seven in number, having no titles but the date of the time of which they are illustrative. The first is a Saga of the Longbeards, "A. D. 415," and the last is "A. D. 1848," the ballad which was printed in Yeast," and called "A Rough Rhyme on a Rough Matter," and which has no superior, in its way, anywhere. We like especially, also, "A. D. 1740," which is the ballad of an old mariner, who had been a buccaneer upon the Spanish main, and has now got back to starve in England. It is a very perfect ballad. The design of this series is admirable. They are social glimpses of the different epochs, and are profoundly suggestive.

The uneasy reader, who fears, in every new poet, an Alexander Smith, and in each new volume only more spasmodic obscurity, may take heart over this book. Every poem in it has the clearness of ripened thought, and the precision of thoughtful art. It is a book full of marrow, and will be sure, not only to win the admiration, but the hearty sympathy, of every intrepid intellect and loving heart.

UMORS of war with England befall

RUM

the good people of the United States with about as much regularity as our learned friend, Mr. Meriam, brings on his "heated terms" in summer, and his "cold terms" in winter. They are periodical, and yet not of systematic periodicity; they come and go, like comets, whose orbits have not been precisely ascertained, rather than like planets, whose habitats, at all seasons, are well known. On this account, they always take us with somewhat of surprise. We are aware that once, at least, during every five years, or say during each new administration for precision's sake, everybody will be called upon to draw his sheathed sword, and furbish his rusty musket, preparatory to a defense of the land against a descent of the blood-thirsty Briton; but at what particular day or hour that duty is to be encountered, we are not aware, and so whenever the trumpets of alarm are blown, they are sure to find us quite unprepared. We are all pursuing our usual peaceful way, eating and drinking, and marrying and giving in marriage, when suddenly there is a grand flourish of drums, and a startling cry that the foe is coming!

It happened thus only a few months since, when, in the midst of our sweet dreams of increasing trade and cent. per cent., the London Times dropped a bomb-shell on our slumbers. All the world had gone quietly to sleep over night, not a man among them supposing but that he would wake in the morning to pleasant sunshine and an easy breakfast; but what was our astonishment, on taking up the early paper, to find that we were on the verge of a savage and sanguinary war with England. In vain we ran about and asked each other what it could mean; what had England done, or what had the United States done, that could not be reconciled, until they had taken each other by the throat, and strangled the life out of one or the other-never a man could tell and yet there stood the fact, in the fair round type of the Times, and who dared dispute such an authority? An immediate war was impending a war, too, provoked by the insolent audacity of the Yankees-and which the adroitness of diplomacy, usually so effective in stav

ing off disagreeable results, was not likely to avert. Straightway, all the vehicles of opinion in both countries were set in motion; the journals of the metropolis groaned and hissed with terrible spite against the marauding republic, which knew no law and no shame; and the orators of Congress repelled the assault with all the blatant and fiery commonplaces for which congressional orators are famous, and which are so potent on such occasions.

War, however, did not come, and the Times was heartily laughed at; but it was laughed at rather prematurely for, in the course of two or three months, after everything had settled down again into the humdrum status ante bellum, it appeared that there had been considerable excitement in the foreign bureaux; that Mr. Marcy and Mr. Buchanan, Lord Clarendon and Mr. Crampton had been busy writing to each other with ominous diligence, and that the English ambassador was about to be sent home, and our ambassador had asked his papers, while a formidable fleet was going to sail towards-the West Indies.

The publication of the diplomatic correspondence has put us in possession of the whole secret of these threatened hostilities. It seems that the governments disagree upon two simple points: first, as to the interpretation of the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty, which relates to certain parts of Central America; and, second, as to the kind and amount of reparation that Great Britain ought to offer for an attempt to infringe our municipal laws and sovereignty. No paramount interests are involved in either question; no strong popular feelings are likely to be aroused by either; and both are matters for diplomatic adjustment rather than national fisticuffs. We shall not discuss them, therefore, but leave them to the settlement of the officials who are appointed to that task. In themselves, they contain no war; and nothing but the most stupid bungling, on the part of the negotiators, or the most determined and malicious desire to go to war, on one side or the other, could extract a war out of such elements.

We have said that it was not our purpose to discuss these questions, and we shall not; but we cannot forbear one

or two passing remarks. With respect to both of them, it seems to us, that the United States is clearly in the right, or, at least, that, as the argument now stands in the correspondence, the force of fact and logic is on our side. It was cert tainly the distinct and universal understanding, in this country, when the treaty of 1850 was issued, that both nations had stipulated to relinquish forever the exercise of any right of dominion over the designated parts of Central America. The one thing in the treaty which commended it to the warm approval of all humane and peace-loving men was, this supposed removal of every cause of difference between two great civilized nations, in regard to one of the most important highways on the globe. Greater than any conquest, they said to each other, greater than any siege or battle, any Buena Vista, Waterloo, or storming of Sebastopol, is this voluntary and honorable agreement of two powerful governments to surrender ancient topics of dispute, and to unite in a vast and reciprocally beneficial scheme of commercial progress. Here are the words of the treaty:

"ART. 1. Neither party will ever obtain or maintain for itself any exclusive control over the contemplated canal.

"Neither will ever erect or maintain any fortification commanding the same, or the vicinity thereof.

Neither will occupy, or fortify, or colonize, or assume, or exercise any dominion over Nicaragua, Costa Rica, the Mosquito coast, or any part of Central America.

"Neither will use any protection which either affords or may afford, or any alliance which either has or may have, to or with any state or people, for the purpose of erecting or maintaining any such fortifications, or of occupying or colonizing Nicaragua, Costa Rica, the Mosquito Coast, or any part of Central America, or of assuming or exercising any dominion over the same.

"Neither will take advantage of any intimacy, or use any alliance, connection, or influence, that either may possess with any state or people through whose territory the Canal may pass, for the purpose of acquiring or holding, directly or indirectly, for its own citizens or subjects, any unequal rights or advantages of commerce or navigation."

All this is frank, open, fair, and mutually honorable. The immediate and obvious meaning of the language is, that neither party will obtain or use, directly or indirectly, any right of occupation or domain over the Mosquito coast. But do such expressions cover the peculiar kind of influence exercised by Great Britain, under the name of a "Protectorate of the Mosquito King

dom?" Great Britain says that they do not, and the United States claims that they do. What, then, is a protectorate? Does it involve the possession of any real, substantial, important political power-any right of political control or influence, which it would be advantageous for one nation to possess as against others? Or is it a simple formal alliance, in which a strong power guarantees to a weaker one its aid and protection against certain domestic or foreign enemies? If the former, then the exercise of such a protectorate is manifestly opposed to both the language and spirit of the treaty; if the latter, we do not see why Great Britain should be so tenacious of a point which is in itself, as Lord John Russell said in 1853, of no moment; for the Spanish control of Central America, against which this alleged protectorate was assumed, no longer exists. In either meaning, however, it is strange that no reservation of this pretended right was made at the time of the treaty. England was careful, in the addenda to it, presented by Mr. Bulwer, to except British Honduras from the operation of its clauses; but not a word was uttered as to the protectorate, or, as Lord Clarendon describes it, "her great and extensive influence with the Mosquito King." Mr. Bulwer must have been unusually forgetful of the interests of his country, in omitting every allusion to so "great and extensive" a possession. Or, what is more likely to have been the case, did not Mr. Bulwer know that this entire theory of a Mosquito king and a Mosquito kingdom was a sham, having no foundation in fact, unsustainable by any law, and, therefore, best kept out of the controversy!

Be this as it may, there is not a shadow of doubt that in the enlistment controversy, from beginning to end, Great Britain has been in the wrong. Against her own voluntary reminder, that our position in respect to the Allies and Russia was one of the strictest neutrality, she has, directly and indirectly, countenanced the efforts of her officials-those residing in this country, and accredited to this government, as well as her colonial agents-in raising troops for service against a friendly power; her enemy. In doing this she has infringed our municipal laws, invaded our national sovereignty, and contravened the policy which, for the wisest

reasons, we had determined to pursue. Yet, when the offense was brought to her attention, and brought, we are happy to say,* in a manner alike forbearing and respectful, it was not met, as such an offense should be, by a prompt and indignant denial, nor by a sincere apology (which would have been abundantly satisfactory to our government and people); but it was diplomatically shuffled away, half disclaimed and half extenuated; and the very fact of our asking redress for violated laws, was made the ground of our own arraignment on the score of laxity of principle. Lord Clarendon's replies were neither statesmanlike, manly, nor honest. A manifest wrong was laid before him-a wrong, about the nature of which, or the commission of which, there could not be, under the circumstances, two opinions-but, instead of frankly confessing it, and tendering the customary satisfaction, he went on refining, and accusing, and postponing, until there was no recourse for our government but the peremptory dismissal of the English representatives who had offended. All the while the British press was allowed to ring the changes of abuse on Brother Jonathan for his unconscionable obstinacy in refusing to be satisfied. "Between gentlemen," exclaimed Lord Palmerston, "when a real or fancied wrong is handsomely acknowledged or explained, there is an end"-leaving it to be inferred that Jonathan was no gentleman. But he concealed the important incident, that no apology had ever been offered to this government. Up to this time, as far as the correspondence has appeared, no such apology has been rendered. A good deal of the sinuosity of the British cause is to be excused on the ground of the traditional indirection of diplomacy, which allows it to say nothing plainly, that by any possibility can be disguised or twisted; but the world should understand, at the same time, that there has been nothing unreasonable, nor arrogant, nor headstrong, in the demands of the American government.

Leaving the details of these controversies, however, to the politicians, let

us proceed to remark upon one or two incidental matters connected with the main dispute. It is a favorite practice of the British writers, whenever one of these chronic disagreements occurs, to charge the American people with cherishing a rooted antipathy to England. Now, we emphatically repel the charge. We believe that the greater part of our people entertain the most friendly dispositions towards her. There is a considerable number of Irish citizens among us, who conceive that they have no love to lose on the British government, and who, being voters, influence a certain class of political men to the same way of thinking; but the majority of us do not share their prejudices, whether well or ill founded. We estimate the character of the English nation from a stand-point of our own. Its robust and sterling virtues we sincerely admire-its glorious literature has fed our hearts and minds with their best impulses and their best thoughts-and its grand example of political freedom, when compared with the condition of the rest of Europe, causes us to thank God that there is yet one mighty bulwark of constitutional government opposed to the encroaching despotisms of the Continent. Our extensive commercial relations, too, have knit innumerable lesser ties of friendship, which it would be hard to sever. Meanwhile, we are not insensible to the defects and weaknesses of our ancestral relatives. We perceive in them certain peculiarities of temperament, which it would not be wise to ignore. same personal and national traits which have rendered them almost universally unpopular among French and Germans, are noted in this country. What those characteristics are, it were needless to specify; but we may hint, that the description given by Lord Bolingbroke, in his letters on the "Study of History," of the Romans in the days of Regulus, viz., that they were impelled by "an insatiable thirst of military fame, an unconfined ambition of extending their empire, an extravagant confidence in their own courage and force, an insolent contempt of their enemies, and an impetuous, overbear

The

ing spirit, with which they pursue all their enterprises,"—would be regarded by many as not untrue if applied to his own countrymen. The energy which has enabled the inhabitants of an insignificant island to extend their dominion to every part of the globe, until there is hardly a creek unploughed by their ships, or a land unspotted by their colonies, must ever be a theme of wonder and admiration to mankind; but it must also be a cause of unceasing solicitude and watchfulness.

In the genuine triumphs of British civilization, every American of advanced opinions takes an interest; but he does not feel called upon, on that account, to waste his friendly sympathies on schemes of British aggrandizement, or upon British political alliances, which reflect no honor. When England, for example, joins hands with the most unprincipled despot and usurper of modern times-when she compels that fair and lustrous queen to buckle on the garter of a foul upstart, whose hands reek with the blood of his countrymen, and whose lips are hot with perjuries-and all for no great or humanitary purpose, as we can see, but with a problematic design of checking a power quite as good as either of her allies-this republic must stand aloof. When that alliance is further heralded by ominous outgivings of a general purpose to undertake the police of the world, strong as the ties of consanguinity may be with us, numerous and vital as are the bonds of interest and intercourse which influence us, we must beg to be excused from any active participation in the union. At least, we shall desire first a complete understanding of the objects it contemplates, with an assurance that the tremendous forces which are.organized will not, sooner or later, direct their energies towards our own devoted heads. For it is scarcely possible to disguise the fact, that although the interests of the British people are substantially the same as the interests of the American people, the policy of their oligarchy, to which they have often exhibited such a servile devotion, is linked in, by the prejudices and prospects of caste, with the policy of more despotic rulers. Constitutionally, we may admit the government of England to be on the side of freedom, and that the tendency of opinion, among the middle and laboring classes, is favorable to democratic

rather than absolute institutions; but the actual control of affairs is in the hands of privileged gentlemen, whose love of the popular cause is not overweening or conspicuous. They associate with kings and their representatives; the perpetuity of their order depends very much upon the maintenance of the existing status, on the Continent as well as at home; and it is not to be supposed, that in the conflicts, which must inevitably arise, as the condition of society now is, between the few and the many, their sympathies will run in the same direction in which those of a large majority of our people must flow. It is with no unfriendly feeling, therefore, but under a paramount sense of what is due to our own security, and to that side of the great humanitary cause to which we are committed, that we often withhold from England a too eager and spontaneous support.

Let it be remarked, at the same time, that if our feelings towards England were even acrimonious, which they are not, there has been much, in the habitual attitude of that nation towards us, to awaken ungenerous sentiments. On two occasions, it has waged aggressive wars upon us, which left deep traces of those unhappy passions incident to a state of war-deeper, in fact, than the enmities ordinarily aroused, by the mere or remote encounter of armies; because they were accompanied by an actual invasion of our soil. The hatreds engendered by a conflict between the regular forces of two nations, and on some distant field, perhaps, are not half so rancorous as those which are produced by a nearer and more immediate grapple, when one party molests the other in its very home, and excites, besides the usual animosities of patriotism, the keener malice of personal resentment. For a long while after our Revolution, and for a short while after our second war, the name of Englishman was a hissing and reproach among us, because the turf was yet green upon the graves of our relatives and friends, and the wounds of the battle yet unhealed; but these remembrances gradually passed away, until now few vestiges of them remain. Nor, we are persuaded, would there have been a single vestige remaining, had the writers of Great Britain pursued subsequently a more amicable course, in their discussions of our na