arise, and compromise is to be made between separate interests. The only question is, what shall the character of these parties be, and who shall control them? Shall the people divide only upon very fundamental questions, or upon superficial ones? This must depend upon circumstances. There are of course different party lines, according as you consider the country in its general extent or its particular districts, or with reference to one or another kind of interest. But there must be parties-that is, there must be a union of those who will compromise their minor interests to save their major ones-who will sacrifice some of their preferences or interests for the sake of other and more important of their wishes and principles. And these parties will have leaders. Shall they be the foolish or the wise, the sober or the reckless?

There are fundamental differences of opinion in respect to the general policy of this nation. There are strict constructionists, and there are liberal interpreters of the Constitution-those who die by the letter and those who live in the spirit of it. There are those who lean to a strong government and would protect the federal interests of the country, who are more devoted to the nation than to the State, and are more proud of being American citizens than Northerners or Southerners, Virginians or Vermontese; and there are State's Rights men and sticklers for the Independent Sovereign ties. There is a Conservative party, which venerates the wisdom of experience and loves the virtue and purity, the customs and associations of the past, and feels its connection with the race, and would not strike boldly out of the track, or forsake the direction or quicken the prudent pace at which the world has arrived at its present position;-and there is Young America, (America is too young to be the mother of any child yet,) which despises the old-womanish maxims of the Past; which will not be tied to the apron-string of the best mother that ever was made; which would set the world upon wholly new feet, and at once reduce an ideal theory (a very superficial ideal, we think) to practice, at any cost and in the face of any difficulties. There is a law and order, a slow and sure, a distrustful and cautious party-a conservative, a Whig party; and there is a radical, innovating, hopeful, boastful, improvident and go-ahead party-a Democratic, a Loco-Foco party!

Now these two parties, both in the main honest, and holding representatives of all orders and classes of society, are real, necessary expressions of two contrasted policies, of two great conflicting ideas, which go to the root and extend to the utmost branches of the national. life. Whichever of these policies or ideas prevails in the country, decides the practical operation of our institutions, interprets the Constitution, and possesses a full right to govern. The party is only the instrument by which the idea gets stated, is the only means under heaven in which it can get itself spoken out and acted out. But these ideas are fundamental! no so important political ideas in the country! none so practical, so decisive for good or evil! Have the people then no right to organize upon them, and is it not their duty to compromise all other views, opinions, and attachment to men or measures for them? We will not, of course, vote for dishonest and wicked men to support our own measures or policy; for such men hurt the measures and policy they undertake to support-nay, cannot be trusted even to support it at all. But anything short of immorality or untrustworthiness should be no bar to our voting for the party candidates. We should sacrifice preferences to principles, favorite candidates to important measures, men to policy, personal, local, or temporary interests, to national, general, and permanent interests. We should vote with the party, exerting all our influence to make and keep it what it ought to be. It is a nonsensical folly to identify low and unworthy ideas with party movements, as if they were inseparable. While the ideas or lines of policy are worth sustaining, the party is; and we forsake our principles when we abandon our party before it abandons its general aim and purposes, and notwithstanding any regrets we may have at its particular deficiencies, or disapproval of its incidental measures. us remember that this country must be governed by a party-always-forever; and that to sneer at or forsake party because it partakes of the passions, and immorality, and folly of the people who partly compose it, is to abandon the wheat because of the tares, and eat no bread, because we cannot have it as white as snow. The party is a phrase that polite and virtuous and pious mouths must learn to use without making faces! It must become a respecta

Let

ble, a sober, a vital duty, to support a party-and if there be no party in the country which is not radically false to its true principles, if there be no party formed on great national ideas, if the Whig party be not a party with which earnest, sober, and Christian men can vote, then we must have another party with which they can. For the intelligence, virtue, wisdom, honesty of the country must make itself felt at the polls, or be basely treacherous to the nation! and if virtue and sense, goodness and knowledge of the world, or of the adjust ment of means to ends, go together, it must appear to this body that without organization, method, discipline, agree ment, in short without party, the wisdom and virtue, and honesty of the country can do nothing for it. The only question to decide then is, not whether we will have parties, or belong to a Party-we must do this or prove false to our first duty as citizens-but will we vote with the Whig party or Democratic party? or will we lay the foundation of a new party, whose aim shall be to possess itself of the power of the country? For our part, we are content with the general policy, the fundamental idea of the Whig party, and as friends of the nation, of virtue, of religion, shall give it a regular,

principled, serious, and hearty support, by that mightiest and most sacred, though often belittled and desecrated instrument—a vote.

We beg the most serious attention to this appeal to the intelligence and conscience of the non-voting portion of our fellowcitizens, men who belong, by every instinct of education, virtue and sagacity, to the Whig Party, the great Conservative party, the party of law, order, reverence and nationality! We implore these self-disfranchized citizens, not to do themselves, the State and the Country, this unnatural wrong! Civil suicide is a new crime, which ought to be attended with public disgrace. Let it not be said, in future, that those who held the saving power of this nation in their hands, were too slothful, careless, cowardly to use it before it became too late. "Died by its own hands," is too opprobrious an epitaph for History to write upon the grave-stone of a Party, which possesses the sympathy and loses the votes of enough virtuous and intelligent men to turn the trembling scale of Political Power, and fix it forever where it belongs, on the side of stable laws, a strictly representative Democracy, and a Conservative Administration.

G. H. COLTON.

AFFECTATION of any kind evinces a great want of truthfulness, and a greater want of common sense. They who cannot make show of a good natural character, may be sure they cannot sustain without discovery one that is artificial. At some time or other the mask will fall off, and the plain features of nature be exposed to view. The quickest observers of affectation are the affected themselves; and as there are few who are simple, natural, and unaffected in their manners, there are fewer still who have not, at some time or other, endeavored to make nature subservient to art in this way. In attempting to impose a false character upon them, as they are older, they will discover that we are only disguised in a habit which they had themselves worn and thrown off.

There is nothing more really amusing than the impression prevailing among the very young of both sexes, that melancholy must be cultivated as an accom

plishment; that a taste for the dismal is as necessary as a taste for music; and that an air of sadness worn on the brow has more charms for the youth of the opposite sex than roses blooming on the cheek, or the light of a glad soul beaming from its beautiful window, the eye. Under this delusion, a young man seeks no other pleasure than the indulgence of his morbid fancies, and he is never in better spirits than at the close of an affecting discourse upon "the ills of life and the vanity of human wishes." Like the owl, he loves darkness better than light: he avoids the sunshine, and buries himself in the shades of gloomy cogitation, or finds a cricket kind of amusement in croaking response to notes of some congenial raven. A young lady, too, may be both gifted and amiable, but she is not the less likely to affect an interesting melancholy, to profess a fondness for Young's Night Thoughts, or a passionate admiration of that most unhappy of poets -Lord Byron.

THE Carnival had passed: Holy Week had not begun. The Vetturini who had crowded with their loads of French, German, and English, out of the Porta Maggiore, the Porta San Giovanni, and the Porta del Popolo, had come back empty and dusty to Rome. The streets were quiet the Piazza d' Espagne had grown dull. Two months had made me half tired of the Capitol-its lions of basalt, and the blind beggar on his cross-legged chair, half up the steps. I was tired of the jokes of lame Pietro at the Lepré; and tired (dare I say it?) of standing with the gay crowd on the Pincian hill, to see the sun go down behind St. Peter's, and stream. in a crimson glory through the windows of its giant dome. I had tired of the mischievous pranks of little Cesare at home and tired (forgive me, Enrica) of looking into the pretty Italian eyes of my landlady's daughter. And I had looked longingly, many a day, from the top of the Capitol, from the top of St. Peters, and from the top of the Janiculan hill, over the long line of Appenines, where the illas of Frascati shine. I had gone up, and lounged, in a Roman winter's sun, about the foot of the Pauline fountain, with Shakspeare in my hand, and read Coriolanus in the sight of Corioli. And in the yard of the Convent of Monte Verde, above the Tiber and the city, with the Æneid before me, and the hills of Albano and Alba Longa in my eye, I have repeated-with a half glance at the narrow windows, that the monks were not pressing on my crazy love

and dabble my hands in the waters of the Lake, and stand on the hill top whence Juno surveyed the combat, (Laurentum Troumque acies,) and wander down the "long white streets of Tusculum?"

My landlord, a tall, sallow-faced lean man, with a bony hand, shrugged his shoulders, when I told him I was going to the mountains and wanted a guide. His wife said it would be cold on the hills, for the winter was not ended; Enrica said it would be warm in the valleys, for the spring was coming; the old man drummed with his fingers on the table, and shrugged his shoulders again, but said nothing. My landlady said I could not ride; Česare said it would be hard walking; Enrica asked Papa if there would be any danger; and again the old man shrugged his shoulders. Again, I asked him, if he knew a man who would serve me as guide among the Appenines: and finding me determined, he shrugged his shoulders, and said he would find one the next day.

The next day came, and the landlady showed into my room a stout fellow in a brown jacket and white hat, with a broad grin upon his face, who sidled up to the table and stood looking at me, as if I were king, and he waiting for the slap of knighthood.

Bon uomo" said I, "do you know the country about Subiaco, and the mountain paths?"

"Si, Signore."

"Can you take me over them safely, Cand show me their wildest parts ?" Si, Signore."

"And you will serve me well?” "Benissimo, Signore."

And 1 bargained with him for five pauls a day, and we were to start on Monday. I bought a map of the Campagna, and its heights around, at Monaldinis, and put a spy-glass, and guide book, and change of linen, in a little carpet bag, and doffed my Roman, and put on my Swiss dress, and bade them all at home good-by, and was at the Piazza near the Monte Citorio, from which the