may be. Even in those pieces which we have most severely condemned, as full of imitations from all sides, there are yet passages of great beauty, and equally original. Some of these we will quote without comment, for they need none. Thus in "Worship":

"Winds that in the sedge, And grass, and ripening grain, while nature sleeps,

Practice, in whispered music, soft and low, Their sweet inventions."

"Long, harp-like shrillings, or soft gush of sounds." "Ye winds!

That in the impalpable deep caves of air, Moving your silent plumes, in dreams of flight,

Tumultuous lie."

"The rocks around,

From whose high-piled and adamantine fronts Ages have fallen like shadows, without power To crumble or deface them."

And in "Saint Mary's Gift," when the maiden wakes up to her lover from seeming death:

"And each unto the other was a dream ;
And so they gazed, without a stir or breath,
Until her head into the golden stream
Of her wide tresses

We have thus endeavored to do Mr. Lord complete justice. We desire he may continue to write: we consider him capable of noble things; but we earnestly beg of him to avoid all appearance of imitation. It is the great American fault, and it is time that, as individuals and as a nation, we adopt, in intellectual and social interests, some path of our own. Any writer, at least, who is to live, must take such a course. lf Mr. Lord produces many things like "The Blind Girl and the Brook," he will not long want a reputation.

And now is our pen like that of the sage, Cid Hamet Benengeli, disposed to repose in some final paragraph. The shadows of the tall houses and the red light, streaming low over the Hudson, and up the long streets, turning even the dusty trees of the city to a golden foliage, betoken the going down of the hot Day to cool himself in the "Ocean stream." throbbing pulses have grown calmer; we invoke the silent descent of Evening, in the exquisite words of Collins :

Our

"Oh, Nymph reserved, while now the bright-haired Sun

Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts,

With brede ethereal wove,
O'erhang his wavy bed."

ERLEDEN.

The Challenge of Barletta we have read with very much more interest than we anticipated. We admire a well-constructed story, as we admire a symmetrical man. The expression of proportion in either case is a pleasant study. Now we have it the articulation of elegance and grace, and now the bolder outline of sinewy strength. What we most imperatively demand in both is a clear definition—a decided character, one way or the other. This "The Challenge" distinctly possesses. We do not often, in these days of miscellaneou

production, happen upon a more vigorous and artistic story. The chief aim of the Romance-which is laid in the chivalrous and brilliant times of the Medici, and the great Spaniard, Gonzales-is to redeem the memory of Italian chivalry from the aspersions which French writers have suffered themselves to fling upon it. This object is well attained, through a great number of interesting scenes. Another very evident a doubt has crossed our mind whether it is not, in reality the chief purpose of the book, is, to leave the horror of an unutterable loathing and disgust associated in the reader's mind with the name of Cæsar Borgia; and it is most consummately effected. All the plot and personages of the tale are made to subserve this object, and a more elaborately hideous picture of ferocious and detestable villany than is here struck out in a few masterly touches, (for Borgia is kept much in the background,) has rarely been conceived. One lays aside the book with an oppression of loathing at the heart, which it would require much of the ingenuity of historical sophistry to alleviate. Such efforts have been made to relieve the memory of this infernal wretch from something of the infamy heaped upon it—but the indignantly earnest, yet skilful simplicity of this Italian carries with it a mountain of evidence against him. The catastrophe of the story is peculiarly noble-almost as much so as that of the "Bride of Lammermoor." The manner, indeed, of young Fieramosca's death somewhat resembles the fate of the unfortunate and melancholy "Lord of Ravenswood."

The translation is beautiful. Mr. Lester has executed his part of the work wellif we except a few inaccuracies of style, which a little more care would, and should, have obviated.

Of the value of the other works in the Series, it is unnecessary to speak. They

are exceedingly elegant writings, and have long been famous in Europe: two hundred years have made Machiavelli a classic. No translations of them have been circulated in this country, and Mr. Lester is doing us a service by his labors. We shall take occasion to speak of those hereafter.

THE FARMER AND EMIGRANT'S HAND Book. Being a full and complete guide for the farmer and emigrant-compris ing the clearing of forest and prairie land, gardening, farming generally, farriery, cookery, and the prevention and cure of diseases, &c. &c. By JOSIAH T. MARSHALL. New York: APPLETON & Co.

This belongs to a class of books we are always glad to aid in circulating when they are well got up. In addition to the thousand hints and practical truths conveyed, which may be useful to the experienced Farmer himself, we perceive (many things in this volume of great importance to those migratory legions annually pouring Westward from our Atlantic border. Hundreds leaving the desk-throwing aside the leather apron

the yard-stick-and sometimes even (O rara avis !) the dandy's switch-and manfully shouldering that potent instrument, the axe-are tramping sturdily away to the roadsong of "Westward ho!" They go to hew out for themselves new homes in the deep forests, or in some wooded island of those flowery seas, the Prairies-where they may drink the breath of untainted winds-let their hearts freshen, and their limbs grow strong! God speed them on their noble march

for they are leading all the train of social and civil virtues out into the wilderness, to adorn and beautify its desert places. This book will be very useful and suggestive to them. We could wish that some of our scientific men might be induced to undertake something more detailed and elaborate on the same basis as this work.

WHAT is the State? This is a question which the course of events among us is forcing most rapidly to a decision. Doubtless we are yet a State, although it may be difficult to define it. Without any analysis of its real nature, we have, notwithstanding, certainly enjoyed the benefit of that organization, which is to some so exceedingly plain, while to others it involves ideas and principles, the true understanding of which calls for the exercise of the highest powers of the mind, all the lights of experience, and all the aid that can be derived from Divine revelation.

Some, we say, regard it as a very simple affair. Thomas Paine was one of these, and so was Thomas Dorr, and so is the author of the book which has called forth these remarks. To this school we would take the liberty of presenting a few Socratic queries, more for the purpose of setting forth our own difficulties, than with any expectation of an answer. We ask then-what is the State? Has the State any existence of its own, or is it a new State with every new generation? Has the State any conscience? Has the State any religion? Is it a moral agent? Has the State any sovereignty, and wherein does this sovereignty consist? Does it reside in law, regarded as

the mind of the State, separate from the present volition of its present masses? If in the latter does it reside in the whole population, or in a part, and in the whole of that part, or in a majority? Again-can the State bind itself, or in other words, can it bind posterity? Is it free to limit the law of its own changes, or has it, in this respect, less power than the individual man in regulating his own conduct? What is the origin of the State? From what previous condition does it arise? What is the true name of that previous condition? In what manner does the State get vitality, or come into existence ? Who has the power of making the State, and where did they get that power? If, after the State is born, the majority have a right to rule, had they, previous to that event, any such power to create or give birth to the State, or to give it any particular form, without the consent of the minority-and if so, whence did they get that right? If a majority-then, we ask,-a majority of what territory, or territories? What previous power of what previous majority shall determine the portion of space over which a contained majority are to rule, or, in other words, whence does the State get its metes and bounds? What is to prevent a majority of any part

from seceding and forming themselves into a new State, to be again subdivided in the same manner, and on the same principles, by other smaller contained majorities? Can such parts be bound to any whole which they did not personally contribute to constitute, on the ground that they are bound by the acts of their ancestors before they were born? Again Is there anything Divine about the State, or has it any religious sanctions? Can the State educate? If so, what shall it teach? Has it any code of morals? Has it any science, or philosophy, any more than it has a religion?

Now the school to which we have last referred, would regard all these questions with a very astonished air. Some of them would seem to have no meaning: others would appear too absurd for an answer. Some would be regarded as utterly inconsistent with themselves, or self-contradicting paradoxes, and some they would perhaps esteem of such a nature, that none but a tory, a monarchist, an advocate of the union of Church and State, or, what is worse than all, some British whig, would even think of asking. Do you inquire what is the State? say they. Why, what can be plainer? "The State is a collection of people associated together for the protection of their rights." Very well, gentlemen-We accept your definition for the present, but as we before had but one word on which to range our queries, you have now presented us with several more, equally suggestive and prolific in pertinent interrogatories.

The State you say, is a collection, &c. We proceed then to ask. How gathered out of the other masses of mankind, and by whose authority collected? By whose command are others excluded? If you say, the authority of the parts-we inquire again-Parts of what whole? Or how shall they determine the parts, before they have the whole of which they are to be parts; for surely, you will not be so utterly illogical as to make an effectnamely, the whole as the result of the constituting power of a majority of that whole-to be a necessary antecedent of the very power from which it claims its own existence a proposition so strangely absurd, that language, which is logical by an inherent necessity, almost wholly fails to express it.

Again, suppose the whole to be ascertained. A collection of people, you say. But who are people? Do you mean all the human beings within a certain terri

tory, as all sharing equally, jointly, and severally, in the sovereignty of the State? Are persons of eighteen years of age people? Are ignorant men people? Are women people? Are black men people? If some are not, who are to be excluded? If you say, all under a certain age; all who are not possessed of sufficient reason and intelligence; then again—Who is to determine the age of discretion, or the amount of intelligence? A majority of the people? But it is not yet ascertained who are people? Who shall vote in settling this question? If all, then how can we be certain that the very young, and the fools, and the colored men, may not outnumber the aged, and the wise, and the white. If not, what power back of the people shall decide who is to vote, and what power back of these shall give them authority thus to decide, and so on, ad infinitum.

Again," A collection of people associated for the protection, &c." Protection against whom-against what? Against themselves against the majority who have the sovereignty, or against the minority who have no power at all? Associated for the protection of their rights. What rights? Rights existing before, or rights derived from the association, and only having an existence under it? If the former, do you mean such rights as the sole property in land, be it more or less, with the right to keep every one else from entering upon it, or the right to vote in the election of rulers, or the right to hold office, with other inalienable privileges that we possess in a state of nature; or do you only mean, generally-as a late Teutonic philosopher has said—the right to be a man? But here we must stop. The last word, is so exceedingly prolific of queries; it suggests such a hive of pertinent and impertinent questions, that should we indulge ourselves in asking them, our pages, for some distance to come, would present to the eye a crowded and wearisome series of unsightly marks of interrogation.

Any fool, however, may ask questions. True, but they may be very pertinent for all that, and if so, a wise man should be prepared to answer them, or give a confession of his ignorance. Now we contend, that these queries are not only proper, but such as must suggest themselves to every reflecting mind. They show, too, that in the way of forming a true notion of the real nature, design, origin, rights, and duties of the State, there are intrinsic difficulties, of which, perhaps,

the writers of this school have never dreamed as presenting any impediment to their shallow theories-and not only difficulties intrinsic, but also others, with which the subject has been invested, in consequence of having been for some time viewed in the light of a very doubtful philosophy. Every one of these questions may be fairly asked of the author of this treatise on human rights, and yet we hazard little in saying, that very few of them, indeed, receive any thing like a satisfactory answer. He talks of rights, of the State, of the people, of nature, &c., as though he had most accurately defined the terms employed, or there had never been any difference of opinion in respect to their meaning.

The author adopts that view of the State which regards it as only an aggregation of individuals, having in itself nothing of a permanent or essential nature, and in fact, no existence aside from its present masses. He expressly denies that it is the source of any rights, and asserts with great confidence, that it is only designed for the preservation of those previously existing. It creates no new duties, gives rise to no new obligations, and establishes no new relations. It is a combination for self-defence, and differs only in numbers, extent in space, and perhaps duration in time, from a mass meeting. There is about law and government nothing divine; they have no religious sanctions. The State is in all respects a voluntary society, into which men enter when they choose, and, of course, from which they may depart in the same manner, and from the same motive, It receives all its authority from the consent of the governed, not only as being physically in their hands to overturn or not as they please, but also as deriving from the same source all the legitimate sanctions of its power. Men are to obey the laws because they have made them. "Government is submitting to one's self," (page 31.) The magistrate, in no sense, represents the Divine authority, as Paul says, or any Eternal Justice, but only the majority of the people. He imposes restraint, (not punishment,) (page 66) on the criminal, because the criminal has consented that, in certain circumstances, this may be done. As a necessary conclusion, the State cannot bind itself, or make any laws for posterity. Every new generation is held only by virtue of its implied assent, and of course, when it comes of age, (a period which itself alone is to de

termine,) it may destroy that implication by an express dissent.

We shall not here go into an extended examination of the theory of government, which is in all respects the opposite of this, although we hope to do so in some future number of this Review. We firmly believe, that there is something far higher in the nature of the State, in the law, and in the origin and obligation of both, than anything we have found in this book; but they involve positions at all times difficult to be proved by à priori reasoning—although they may be thus proved-and which become far more so when addressed to those, who have an entirely distinct philosophy, with no common fundamental, or first principles with which we might start in the argument.

There is, however, a method of reaching the advocates of this plausible scheme, by presenting the inconsistencies and absurdities which result directly from it. The two doctrines, we say, have nothing in common. The theory of which our author's book is a fair representation, adopts to some extent the old language, but its advocates themselves sometimes betray a secret feeling, that the most important terms thus used by them are misnomers, at variance with the long-established sense in which they have been generally received by mankind. State is not something which stands, but rather that which is ever flowing. Nation is not something which is born, or grows out of the womb of time, with homogeneity and natural unity, but is the creation of a mass meeting, or rather, a large mass meeting itself. Law (lex) is not that which binds, unless the criminal consents to be bound; and government instead of being the director and controller of the popular volition, is controlled by it, or is, in other words, nothing more than its expression.

The writer of this book seems to be aware, that the common sense of mankind, of which language is the truest exponent, is directly against him. On page 66, for example, he says:

"It is unfortunate that our language furnishes no word which expresses the idea of that procedure which the State can rightfully take for the prosecution of crime and reformation of offenders. We call it PUNISHMENT, which to most minds con

veys a wrong idea. It imports vengeance, a terror and example to mankind," &c.

"This compound idea of punishment (he