He from the summit of th' Olympian mount The wide-brimmed vase up-bubbling, foams with heat; By burning flame, amid the mountain dells -Elton, 1108-1149. The italicised lines may recall the noble image in the "Paradise Lost; " a passage which Milton's editor, Todd, pronounces grander in conception than Hesiod's. But, as Elton fairly answers, it is only in Milton's reservation that he is superior. "The mere rising of Zeus causing mountains to rock beneath his everlasting feet, is sublimer than the firmament shaking from the rolling of wheels." After quelling this monster, Zeus is represented bethinking himself of a suitable consort, and espousing Metis or Wisdom, so as to effect a union of absolute wisdom with absolute power. As, however, in the Hesiodic view of the divinity, there was ever a risk of dethronement to the sire at the hand of offspring, Zeus hit upon a plan which should prevent his wife producing a progeny that might hereafter conspire with her to dethrone him, after the hereditary fashion. He absorbed Metis, with her babe yet unborn, in his own breast, and, according to mythology, found this task easier through having persuaded her to assume the most diminutive of shapes. Thenceforth he blended perfect wisdom in his own body, and in due time, as from a second womb "He from his head disclosed, himself, to birth -Elton, 1213-1217. 1" Under his burning wheels The steadfast empyrean shook throughout, All but the throne itself of God." -vi. 832-834. Yet, notwithstanding so summary a putting of his first wife, Zeus, it away had appears, no mind to remain a widower. Themis bare him the Hours; Eurynome the Graces "Whose eyelids, as they gaze, Drop love unnerving; and beneath the shade and Mnemosyne, a daughter of Uranus, became the mother by him of the Nine Muses, celebrated by Hesiod at the beginning of the poem. With Demeter and Latona also he had tender relations, before he finally resigned himself to his sister Hera (Juno), who took permanent rank as Queen of the Gods. From this union sprang Mars and Hebe, and Eileithyia or Lucina: whilst according to Hesiod, who herein differs from Homer, Hephæstus or Vulcan was the offspring of Hera alone, as a set-off to Zeus's sole parentage of Athena. Of the more illicit amours of the fickle king of the gods, and of their issues, and the marriages consequent upon these children of the gods espousing nymphs or mortals, Hesiod has still much to tell, in his fashion of genealogising, before we reach the Heroögony, or list of mortal men, which is tacked to the "Theoheroes born of the union of goddesses with gony" proper, as it has come down to us. It is indeed a list and little more; tracing, for example, the birth of Plutus to the meeting of Demeter with Iasius in the wheatfields of Crete; of Achilles, to the union of Peleus with Thetis; of Latinus, Telegonus, and another, to the dalliance of Ulysses with the divine Circe. "Lo! these were they who, yielding to embrace Of mortal men, themselves immortal, gave A race resembling gods." -Elton, 1324-1326. Thus virtually ends the "Theogony" in its extant form, but our sketch of it would not be complete were we to ignore the story of Pandora and Prometheus, which has been passed over at its proper place in the genealogy, with a view to a clearer unfolding of the sequence of the poem. In the "Works" this legend is an episode; in the "Theogony" it is a piece of genealogy, à propos of the offspring of Iapetus, the brother of Cronus, and Clymene. Atlas, one of their sons, was doomed by Zeus to bear up the vault of heaven as an eternal penalty; Mencetius, another, was for his insolence thrust down to Erebus by the lightning-flash. Of Epi metheus, who in the "Works" accepts the gift of Pandora, it is simply said in the Theogony" that he did so, and brought evil upon man by his act. Nothing is said of heedlessness of his brother's caution; nothing of the casket of evils, from which in the Works,' Pandora, by lifting the lid, Lets mischief and disease loose upon the world. The key to the difference between the two accounts is to be found in the fact that in the Works' Hesiod narrates the consequences of the sin of Prometheus; in the Theogony,' the story of the sin itself. In the order of events that story would run thus: Prometheus enrages Zeus by scoffing at sacrifices, and by tricking the sage ruler of Olympus into a wrong choice touching the most savoury part of the ox. In his office of arbitrator, he divides two portions, the flesh and entrails covered with the belly on one hand, the bones under a cover of white fat on the other. Zeus chooses after the outward appearance, but, as Hesiod seems to imply, chooses wittingly, for the sake of having a grievance. Thenceforth in sacrifice it was customary to offer the whitening bones at his altars. But the god neither forgot nor forgave the cheat "And still the fraud remembering from that hour, Outwitted twice, he roused himself to take vengeance upon Prometheus as well as his clients. On the latter he inflicted the evil of winsome womankind, represented by Pandora, and placed them in the dilemma of either not marrying, and dying heirless, or of finding in marriage the lottery which it is still accounted. As to Prometheus and his punishment, Hesiod's account is as follows: "Prometheus, versed This durance was eventually terminated by Hercules slaying the vulture or eagle, and reconciling Zeus and the Titan. Hesiod's moral will sum up the tale : "Nathless it is not given thee to deceive -Elton, 816-821. The foregoing sketch will, it is hoped, have enabled English readers to discover in Hesiod's 'Theogony' not a mere prosy catalogue, but a systematised account of the generation of the gods of Hellas, relieved of excessive detail by fervid descriptions, stirring battle-pieces, noble images, and graceful fancies. Such as it was, it appears to have found extensive circulation and acceptance in Greece, and to have formed the chief source of information amongst Greeks concerning the divine antiquity. This is not the kind of work to admit of a comparison of the so-called Orphic Theogony, which, in point of fact, belongs to a much later date, with that of Hesiod. Enough to state that the former, to use Mr. Grote's expression," contains the Hesiodic ideas and persons, enlarged and mystically disguised." But those who have the time and materials for carrying out the comparison for themselves, will be led to discover in the development of religious belief, in the bias towards a sort of unity of Godhead, and in the investment of the powers of nature with the attributes of deity, which characterise the corroboration of the opinion which assigns Orphic worship and theogonies, indirect a very early date to the simple, unmystical, and, so to speak, unspiritual view of the divine foretime, handed down to us in Hesiod's theogonic system. WIRT'S PORTRAIT OF BLANNER HASSETT. WHO IS BLANNERHASSETT? From a Speech on the Trial of Aaron Burr. [WILLIAM WIRT, an American writer and advocate, born at Bladensburg, Md., 1772, died at Washington, in 1834. He studied law, which he practised for twenty five years in Virginia, where he aided in the prosecu- | his demeanour, the light and beauty of his tion of Aaron Burr for treason in 1807; was Attorney conversation, and the seductive and fasciGeneral of the United States twelve years, 1817-29. Mr. Wirt was noted for the finished and elaborate character of his legal arguments, and for the rhetorical quality of his style. He wrote "Letters of a British Spy," a series of critical and descriptive sketches, often reprinted. "The Old Bachelor," 2 vols., 1812, and "Sketches of the Life and Character of Patrick Henry," 1817; which has passed through more than twenty editions.] Who is Blannerhassett? A native of Ireland, a man of letters, who fled from the storms of his own country to find quiet in ours. His history shows that war is not the natural element of his mind. If it had been, he would never have exchanged Ireland for America. So far is an army from furnishing the society natural and proper to Mr. Blannerhassett's character, that on his arrival in America he retired even from the population of the Atlantic States, and sought quiet and solitude in the bosom of our western forests. But he carried with him taste, and science, and wealth; and lo, the desert smiled! Possessing himself of a beautiful island in the Ohio, he rears upon it a palace, and decorates it with every romantic embellishment of fancy. A shrubbery, that Shenstone might have envied, blooms around him. Music, that might have charmed Calypso and her nymphs, is his. An extensive library spreads its treasures before him. A philosophical apparatus offers to him all the secret mysteries of nature. Peace, tranquillity, and innocence shed their mingled delights around him. And to crown the enchantment of the scene a wife, who is said to be lovely even beyond her sex, and graced with every accomplishment that can render it irresistible, had blessed him with her love and made him the father of several children. The evidence would convince you that this is but a faint picture of the real life. In the midst of all this peace, this innocent simplicity, and this tranquillity, this feast of the mind, this pure banquet of the heart, the destroyer comes; he comes to change this paradise into a hell. Yet the flowers do not wither at his approach. No monitory shuddering through the bosom of their unfortunate possessor warns him of the ruin that is coming upon him. A stranger presents himself. Introduced to their civilities by the high rank which he had lately held in his country, he soon finds his way to their hearts by the dignity and elegance of nating power of his address. The conquest was not difficult. Innocence is ever simple and credulous. Conscious of no design itself, it suspects none in others. It wears no guard before its breast. Every door and portal and avenue of the heart is thrown Such open, and all who choose it enter. was the state of Eden when the serpent entered its bowers. The prisoner, in a more engaging form, winding himself into the open and unpractised heart of the unfortunate Blannerhassett, found but little difficulty in changing the native character of that heart and the object of its affection. By degrees he infuses into it the poison of its own ambition. He breathes into it the fire of his own courage; a daring and desperate thirst for glory; an ardour panting for great enterprises, for all the storm and bustle and hurricane of life. In a short time the whole man is changed, and every object of his former delight is relinquished. No more he enjoys the tranquil scene; it has become flat and insipid to his taste. His books are abandoned. His retort and crucible are thrown aside. His shrubbery blooms and breathes its fragrance upon the air in vain; he likes it not. His ear no longer drinks the rich melody of music; it longs for the trumpet's clangour and the cannon's roar. Even the prattle of his babes, once so sweet, no longer affects him; and the angel smile of his wife, which hitherto touched his bosom with ecstasy so unspeakable, is now unseen and unfelt. Greater objects have taken possession of his soul. His imagination has been dazzled by visions of diadems, of stars and garters, and titles of nobility. He has been taught to burn with restless emulation at the names of great heroes and conquerors. His enchanted island is destined soon to relapse into a wilderness; and in a few months we find the beautiful and tender partner of his bosom, whom he lately "permitted not the winds of" summer "to visit too roughly," we find her shivering at midnight on the winter banks of the Ohio, and mingling her tears with the torrents that froze as they fell. Yet this unfortunate man, thus deluded from his interest and his happiness, thus seduced from the paths of innocence and peace, thus confounded in the toils that were deliberately spread for him, and overwhelmed by the mastering spirit and genius of another-this man, thus ruined and un HAMILTON ON A DISSOLUTION OF THE UNION. 189 done, and made to play a subordinate part | tained. The disciplined armies always kept in this grand drama of guilt and treason, this man is to be called the principal of fender, while he by whom he was thus plunged in misery is comparatively innocent, a mere accessory! Is this treason? Is it law? Is it humanity? Sir, neither the human heart nor the human understanding will bear a perversion so monstrous and absurd! so shocking to the soul! so revolting to reason! Let Aaron Burr, then, not shrink from the high destination which he has courted, and having already ruined Blannerhassett in fortune, character, and happiness for ever, let him not attempt to finish the tragedy by thrusting that ill-fated man between himself and punishment. on foot on the continent of Europe, though they bear a malignant aspect to liberty and economy, have, notwithstanding, been productive of the singular advantage of rendering sudden conquests impracticable, and of preventing that rapid desolation which used to mark the progress of war prior to their introduction. The art of fortification has contributed to the same ends. The nations of Europe are encircled with the chains of fortified places, which mutually obstruct invasion. Campaigns are wasted in reducing two or three fortified garrisons, to gain admittance into an enemy's country. Similar impediments occur at every step, to exhaust the strength and delay the progress of an invader. Formerly, an invading army would penetrate into the heart of a neighbouring country almost as soon as intelli HAMILTON ON A DISSOLUTION OF gence of its approach could be received; THE UNION. [ALEXANDER HAMILTON, an American author and statesman, born in the island of Nevis, 1757, killed by Aaron Burr in a duel, near New York, 1804. His father was Scottish and his mother a Huguenot. Educated at Columbia College, New York, he early took part in the war of Independence, serving on Washington's staff. Later, he studied law, was elected to Congress from New York in 1782, and one of the most prominent members of the Constitutional Convention of 1787. In defence of that instrument, he wrote a large part of the papers but now, a comparatively small force of dis- In this country the scene would be alto known as The Federalist. He was President Washing-gether reversed. The jealousy of military ton's first Secretary of the Treasury (1789-95) and author of the funding system, which restored the public credit. An ardent politician of the Federalist school, an able advocate, and a very influential writer, his share in the formation of our institutions, and the settlement of the country's financial difficulties, was a highly important one.] Assuming it, therefore, as an established truth, that, in cases of disunion, the several states, or such' combinations of them as might happen to be formed out of the wreck of the general confederacy, would be subject to those vicissitudes of peace and war, of friendship and enmity, with each other, which have fallen to the lot of all other nations not united under one government, let us enter into a concise detail of some of the consequences that would attend such a situation. War between the states, in the first periods of their separate existence, would be accompanied with much greater distresses than it commonly is in those countries where regular military establishments have long ob establishments would postpone them as long as possible. The want of fortifications, leaving the frontier of one state open to another, would facilitate inroads. The populous states would with little difficulty overrun their less populous neighbours. Conquests would be as easy to be made as difficult to be retained. War, therefore, would be desultory and predatory. Plunder and devastation ever march in the train of irregulars. The calamities of individuals would ever make the principal figure in events, and would characterize our exploits. This picture is not too highly wrought; though I confess it would not long remain a just one. Safety from external danger is the most powerful director of national con duct. Even the ardent love of liberty will, after a time, give way to its dictates. The violent destruction of life and property incident to war, the continual effort and alarm attendant on a state of continual danger, will compel nations the most attached to liberty to resort for repose and security to If we are wise enough to preserve the union, we may for ages enjoy an advantage similar to that of an insulated situation. Europe is at a great distance from us. Her colonies in our vicinity will be likely to continue too much disproportioned in strength to be able to give us any dangerous annoyance. Extensive military establishments cannot, in this position, be necessary to our security. But, if we should be disunited, and the integral parts should either remain separated, or, which is most probable, should be thrown together into two or three confederacies, we should be, in a short course of time, in the predicament of the continental powers of Europe. Our liberties would be a prey to the means of defending ourselves against the ambition and jealousy of each other. institutions which have a tendency to destroy | tatives and delegates; they are solid conclutheir civil and political rights. To be more sions, drawn from the natural and necessary safe, they at length become willing to run progress of human affairs. . . . . the risk of being less free. The institutions chiefly alluded to are STANDING ARMIES, and the corresponding appendages of military establishments. Standing armies, it is said, are not provided against in the new constitution; and it is thence inferred that they would exist under it. This inference, from the very form of the proposition, is, at best, problematical and uncertain. But standing armies, it may be replied, must inevitably result from a dissolution of the confederacy. Frequent war and constant apprehension, which requires a state of constant preparation, will infallibly produce them. The weaker states or confederacies would first have recourse to them, to put themselves on an equality with their more potent neighbours. They would endeavour to supply the inferiority of population and resources by a more regular and effective system of defenceby disciplined troops, and by fortifications. They would, at the same time, be obliged to strengthen the executive arm of government; in doing which their constitutions would acquire a progressive direction towards monarchy. It is the nature of war to increase the executive at the expense of the legislative authority. The expedients which have been mentioned would soon give the states, or confederacies, that made use of them, a superiority over their neighbours. Small states, or states of less natural strength, under vigorous governments, and with the assistance of disciplined armies, have often triumphed over large states, or states of greater natural strength, which have been destitute of these advantages. Neither the pride nor the safety of the important states, or confederacies, would permit them long to submit to this mortifying and adventitious superiority. They would quickly resort to means similar to those by which it had been effected, to re-instate themselves in their lost pre-eminence. Thus we should, in a little time, see established in every part of this country the same engines of despotism which have been the Scourge of the old world. This, at least, would be the natural course of things; and our reasonings will be likely to be just, in proportion as they are accommodated to this standard. These are not vague inferences, deduced from speculative defects in a constitution, the whole power of which is lodged in the hands of the people, or the represen This is an idea not superficial or futile, but solid and weighty. It deserves the most serious and mature consideration of every prudent and honest man of whatever party. If such men will make a firm and solemn pause, and meditate dispassionately on its importance; if they will contemplate it in all its attitudes, and trace it to all its consequences, they will not hesitate to part with trivial objections to a constitution, the rejection of which would, in all probability, put a final period to the union. The airy phantoms that now flit before the distempered imaginations of some of its adversaries, would then quickly give place to more substantial prospects of dangers, real, certain, and extremely formidable. DR. PANGLOSS AND HIS PUPIL. (From "The Heir at Law.") [GEORGE COLMAN, the Younger, born October 21, 1762. Educated at Westminster and Oxford. Favourite companion of George IV., and by him made licenser of plays. Died in London, October 26, 1836.] Pangloss. Never before did honour and affluence let fall such a shower on the head of Dr. Pangloss! Fortune, I thank thee! Propitious goddess, I am grateful! I, thy favoured child, who commenced his career in the loftiest apartment of a muffin-maker, |