vote their lives for the benefit of their race; unless a genuine love of Mankind, nearly resembling what the Apostle Paul calls "charity," ardently burns in their hearts.

Again, they differ in respect to their uniformity. At a time when a country is threatened with a foreign invasion, Patriotism glows in an unusual degree in every bosom. Old and young are ready to rally around the standard of liberty, and freely spill their blood in its defense; and, as was the case during our own struggle for independence, even the female sex may exhibit an ardent devotion to their country's cause, without incurring reproach or overstepping the bounds of propriety. Nay, they may even merit the highest applause, for their welldirected efforts in the cause of freedom. At such a time, therefore, the balance of feeling may, and of right should preponderate in favor of Patriotism. Whereas, at another time, comparatively few of all the individuals in a given country, need bestow any special attention on that country's welfare.

But the love of Mankind is far more uniform in its nature. Its reign should be constant and universal, pervading alike the hearts of both sexes and all ages. Like the fires that burned upon the altars of Vesta, it should never be permitted to grow dim. But so long as our race are exposed to suffering-so long as there is a broken heart to be bound up, or a tear to be wiped away-it should be present, to prompt us to compassionate that suffering, and to endeavor to exchange that tear for the smile of happiness; and this will be as long as sin shall mar the beauty of the earth, and leave its stamp of woe and wretchedness impressed upon the human heart."

It remains for us to speak of the consistency of these two principles. And here we are met with the broad assertion, that Patriotism is inconsistent with Christianity itself, and of course inconsistent with Philanthropy, which is one of the features in which Christianity reveals itself to the world. It has even been declared, by at least one noted sceptic, (M. Bayle,) that "a state composed of real Christians could not exist." This has lead to a more thorough examination of the subject, and, strange to tell, some professed believers have come to the conclusion, that a spirit of Patriotism is nowhere recommended in the word of God, and, consequently that the exercise of it is a sin, and that all human governments are a mere nullity, or directly opposed to the spirit of the gospel.

Space would not permit us to linger on these several points, nor are they necessarily involved in the subject we have chosen. We leave it for others to determine whether there can be found on the pages of profane history, a more noble example of disinterested Patriotism, than that of the Hebrew Lawgiver, throughout his whole course; and particularly on those occasions when, notwithstanding the offer made to himself of becoming "a greater nation and a mightier than they," his attachment to his people led him to throw himself between them and their incensed Sovereign, and to intercede in their behalf, in this unparalleled strain :-"Yet now, if thou wilt, forgive their sin; and if not, blot me, I pray thee, out of thy book which thou hast

written." Or whether a more beautiful sentiment ever burst from patriotic lips, than that of the devoted Psalmist :-" If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning," &c.

And to pass to the New Testament, we will let others decide whether any inference can be drawn from the example of Christ, when at a second risk of his life, he sought the welfare of his own countrymen, the Nazarenes; or when the hills of Judea echoed with his touching lamentation over the ill-fated Jerusalem; or whether Paul breathed a spirit of Patriotism, when he was ready to wish himself accursed from Christ, for his brethren, his kinsmen according to the flesh. To say nothing of the charges given to the Apostles to preach the gospel, beginning at Jerusalem; or of the strain which runs throughout every portion of the Bible, relative to the peculiar claims of all the various relations of life-claims higher and weightier in proportion as those relations are more intimate; thus establishing beyond every shadow of doubt, that principle from which the duty of Patriotism must necessarily follow. Surely, if such examples as these have no bearing on the subject, then the most express commands might be set aside with impunity.

But we were endeavoring to prove that both Patriotism and Philanthropy might exist in the same heart and at the same time. And by Patriotism we mean, not the proud love of the Greek, the ambitious love of the Roman, or that selfish party passion of the present day, which is too often dignified with this high title; but "that Christian love, which, while it respects as sacred the rights and the welfare of every land-of every foreign individual-teaches us to manifest, within the limits of justice, special affection towards our own country, in proportion to the special ties that unite us to it."

It is true that some men exhibit one of these properties in a preeminent degree, while they manifest little or no evidence that they possess the other. But this is no proof that it does not exist, or at least may not be made to exist by proper cultivation. Its apparent nonexistence may be accounted for on the principle of taste or education. One of the characteristics of man, is a power to cultivate those faculties and properties for which he has a preference, whilst others are neglected.

The nature and constitution of the human mind admit of the same conclusion. The heart is capable of cherishing two or more objects at the same time; else where is the consistency that God should command us to love him with all the heart, and our neighbor as ourselves: implying love to at least three objects at the same time; viz. God, our neighbor, and ourselves.

If, then, Patriotism and Philanthropy be not inconsistent with each other, both can be cherished, in some degree, at the same time. But both spring from the same principle of benevolenee, and, as we have seen, both aim at the same great object,--the promotion of human happiness in the world. They are only different plans for securing the greatest amount of good. The one looks at the world as composed of individuals, each of whom has a personal obligation to discharge

towards every other one over whom he either has or can have an influence. The other looks at it as made up of nations, which, like so many families, have rights of their own to protect, and domestic wants to provide for. Since, then, there is no discrepancy of design, but, on the contrary, a perfect harmony of interests and aims; there is no more inconsistency in cherishing both, than of favoring any two benevolent objects at the same time. One may receive more of our attention than the other, yet both find a place in our hearts.

Experience and observation also concur in testifying to the fact, that these two passions have frequently existed, to an eminent degree, in the same individual. Gen. Washington is acknowledged by all to stand foremost among patriots, whether of his own or any former age. Even his enemies feel compelled to yield assent to this. In all the vicissitudes of his public career, he manifested the most distinguished zeal for the welfare of his country, and ever labored most assiduously to promote its prosperity. And that this zeal was not the offspring of ambition, was fully evinced by all his actions, both public and private. Yet scarcely was he less distinguished as a Philanthropist. Not only did he exhibit all the sympathy of a kind father towards his suffering soldiers, often denying himself that he might administer to their necessities; but he ever held out the sceptre of mercy to a fallen enemy, sparing life whenever it was consistent with the safety of his country. And if history and tradition can be relied on, he was actuated by the same blessed spirit of love to Mankind in all the walks of his private life. If, then, these principles appear thus prominent in one individual, they may both exist in some degree in all, since the nature of mind is the same in all.

And inasmuch as we have seen that both are essential to the securing of the highest good, it becomes an imperative duty that every individual cultivate both, to some extent. The love of our race is the first rule of our being; it is the dictate of reason, of common sense, and, we may add, even of instinct. Without it happiness would no longer sojourn among men, and life become a burden not to be endured. The love of country, though comparatively less urgent in its claims, is too important to be disregarded. The utility of governments of some form, no reasonable man will call in question. Yet without this principle it would be impossible to sustain them. The bonds of society would be sundered, and the materials of which it is composed left to float at random amid the general desolation. Mankind, in separate families or clans, would wander unprotected among the wreck of ruined nations, and a Babel-like confusion reign throughout the world.

Doubtless some should make it their more immediate business to labor for the good of their country; but never should their zeal for this cause them to forget the duty they owe their fellow-men as individuals, or to turn a deaf ear to the cries of the distressed whom Providence may have thrown in their way. On the other hand, some classes of community should make it their principal aim to cultivate a spirit of Philanthropy. Yet even these should have so much knowledge of, and love for their country, as would enable them, in case of an emergency, to afford timely assistance for its relief.

And since the highest individual happiness depends upon the highest cultivation of every separate principle of benevolence, we shall in the end experience more of that blessedness, which is ever the legitimate result of conferring blessings on others. For it is, and ever must be, "more blessed to give than to receive;" otherwise God, who is the giver of all things, could never be the most blessed of all.

D.

MY COLLEGE FRIENDS.

NO. II.

THE TRIO.

"The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together; our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not."-All's Well that Ends Well.

"Florizel. Apprehend nothing but jollity."-Winter's Tale.

"Honi soit qui mal y pense."

THE first part of the melancholy Jacques's soliloquy is, mutatis mutandis, no bad description of college life; but not without such changes, for it is not true, as a general thing, that here, as in the larger world, men and women have their exits and their entrances. We are many of us players though, and each plays many parts. Some there are who "know what study is," and could tell you of their toil

"Through the hours of the sad midnight watch,

At tasks which seem a systematic curse

And course of bootless penance."

Others there are, in whose minds "the wee small hours ayont the twalve" are associated with anything but "brain sweat," as the poet calls thought, and who can say with Biron in the play,

"Oh! we have made a vow to study, Lords,

And in that vow we have forsworn our books."

And others still, who have attained the happy medium, and, holding to the idea that universal plodding will wear out the man, occasionally indulge in a flow of spirits, or, as Ovid calls it, "that joyous folly which unbends the mind." To which of these classes we whose acquaintance you now make belong, you, gentle reader, must judge—that is, if you are anxious to know.

On a warm afternoon in the summer of 18—, we three were quietly lounging on two beds, (sofas by courtesy,) in an upper room of old South Middle, lazily puffing our cigars and wondering what we should do to dissipate ennui, for Rhetoric had long since been voted a bore, and it was decidedly too hot to study anything else. Project after project had been started and rejected, and we were about to give up in

despair of agreeing upon anything, when some one rapped at the oak. It was a peculiar knock; no one of our crowd' ever had sufficient energy to rap that way. "Who's that?" said Topboots, the proprietor of the room, in a low whisper.

"I don't know-let him in," replied Whitehat.

"But I have a holy horror of duns, and it may be the tailor."

'Not a bit of it-I know his knock, and it aint like that," said he, as the sharp, quick rap was heard again.

Come in," shouted Topboots, and added, "sold, by George !" as a boy walked in and handed out a paper. But it wasn't a bill, after all; it was a letter, and with a feeling of relief he threw himself back on the bed to recover from his unwonted exertion, and examine it at his leisure.

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"D—n it, it's not mine now-it's yours, Le Turc," and he tossed over the letter to me. It was postmarked L, and the superscription seemed to have been written by one who was in the same circumstances as most stage-drivers say they are when a passenger wants them to stop while he gets out and picks fruit or flowers on the roadside, i. e. “in a h--l of a hurry."

Now I am decidedly too fond of enjoying the otium cum cigare to write my own correspondence, as most newspaper editors do, and my list of correspondents, in consequence of my own irregularity, had reduced itself almost to zero, there being but one left, and he a verdant kinsman of mine, who loves to talk to his comrades at school about his cousin the Yalensian, and who occasionally writes me a very deferential letter, post-paid, so the wonder was, who could this come from. A thought struck me! With many pious wishes for the health of a rich old bachelor uncle of mine, who lives up near L, I turned over the letter and looked at the seal again; but no! it wasn't black! Stop though, let me look at the direction! No lawyer ever wrote that. It hasn't even got a Mr. to the name, and they treat clients in prospective with the greatest respect. I shook my head and lay back to dream of something else than legacies. There was a long pause, during which the wrinkles that thought makes slipped across brows to which they had long been strangers. At last Topboots suggested that it never occurred to him before, but he reckoned that, after all, the easiest way to find out the author of the epistle, would be to break the seal and read it. As were the companions of Columbus when the great navigator solved his problem by striking the egg on the table, so were Whitehat and I struck dumb with astonishment at our own obtuseness. In a pet at the dissipating of my golden dream alluded to above, I had thrown the letter back to Topboots, who now seized it, and acting as corresponding secretary, pro tem., opened and commenced reading it. The rest of us heard now and then a word—as, "great fishing-capital sport-lots of pretty girls-bring clean shirtslandlord's got a splendid daughter-come up-introduce," &c. &c. "Yours, Frank Forrester, Jr." Few and short were the words we heard, but they were the ones to raise ideas despite the state of the weather. We got the diamonds and cared not for the setting. The