of scorn and reproach, the reguerdon of valorous deeds, rather than the humiliations of delinquency, and the distinction of place, rather than the apprehension of ignominious degradation, which rouse the noblest faculties of the soul, give confidence to purpose, vigor to action, and develop the most resplendent attributes of genius, talent, and intelligence. It is such inspiring conceptions, which prompt the mightiest efforts of man, and elevate him to the highest attainable summit of moral grandeur.

In adopting means for the diminution of offences, this view of the character of man, in all the stages of his existence, from the cradle to the tomb, should not be neglected; it should be the governing theory, in the organization and management of our schools, and in forming codes of correctional laws. The radical error of nearly all writers on jurisprudence, has originated from pursuing an opposite course; they sought to prevent crime by the dread of punishment, and considered it indispensable, that conviction should be followed by the most terrible inflictions. If they had studied human nature, rather than precedents, and been more governed by the instructions of history, than the influence of custom, they would have been convinced, that a fear of the fatal consequences has never restrained the vicious; that offences were as frequent, under the most cruel and sanguinary laws of the feudal age, as since the establishment of less barbarous codes. Were heretical opinions obliterated, by those ferocious judgements, which have rendered the ecclesiastical courts of Europe forever infamous? Was religion rendered venerable, by such horrible decrees, as that, which condemned the youthful De la Borne to have his tongue cut out, his right hand amputated, and his body consumed by a slow fire, for having, in a boyish frolic, ridiculed the priests in a song? Was the monarch of France rendered more secure on his throne, after Damien was sacrificed, for an assault on Louis XV. by having his flesh torn from his bones, with red-hot pincers, molten lead poured into his wounds, and then his limbs dragged asunder by wild horses? Were thefts, robberies, and murders less common, when evidence was extorted from the accused by torture, and the galleys, perpetual imprisonment, and the gibbet, were the general chastisements? Have the morals of the people been the most exemplary where the punishments were the most various and horrible? So far from this being true, the vindictive character of national laws is conclusive testimony of general licentiousness, and of the limited progress of civilization, and of a decadence from a more exalted state of refinement. In proportion as intelligence and freedom have advanced in the western nations, the laws have been ameliorated,-while in the east, as the human mind has retrograded, crime has become more prevalent, and legislation more barbarous. The aged culprit is inhumanly impaled for offences, which might have been prevented, by youthful instruction, and the savage monarch rules in the terror of ignorant and degraded slaves, rather than in the respect and affections of an enlightened and prosperous people.

Let an effort then be made to place our jurisprudence on a level with that advanced condition of society, which characterizes the age in which we live. Let a system of criminal law be presented, in which the beneficent influence of instruction and mercy, shall be sub

stituted for the pretended correctional effects of exemplary chastisements, the awful atonements of outraged justice, and the agonies inflicted by a spirit of revenge.

It may be urged by those, who still believe in the restraining influence of terror, that banishment is not sufficiently dreadful, and that transportation, will be considered rather an advantage, than a punishment; but has it not been clearly proved, by centuries of experiment, in every stage of civilization, and under every form of government, that the horror, of even the most diabolical penalties, has not withheld the hand of the unprincipled and desperate; besides, punishment is not the object proposed, but the deliverance of the country from the pres-. ence of the malefactor, and that, too, in a manner which shall occasion him the least suffering; and as it has been contended, that the inducement to crime, is only to be prevented, by youthful education,by the universal diffusion of intelligence, the zealous inculcation of the principles of morality and religion, and a strict observance of the rules of temperance among all classes of children; and it having been assumed as one of the reasons for adopting the proposed system, that the vicious are to be considered as irreclaimable, by penitentiary discipline, therefore all that remains to be done, in relation to culprits, is their exclusion from society; and how can that be accomplished in any way so effectual and merciful, as by deportation. Then, if

any reformation can be induced, it must be in such a place of exile as has been contemplated. There every cause of vice will be precluded, for there will be no community to prey upon, or to hold them in contempt, which is of infinite importance, to render compunction salutary. Now, with what dreary prospects does the discharged convict go forth into the world. Disgraced in the estimation of those who once held him in endearing estimation; without friends, or the means of existence; feared, shunned, and despised by all, who look upon himdesperate and without hope, he has no alternative, but again to associate with the most abandoned and depraved, and replunge into those scenes of profligacy, which inevitably result in his irretrievable ruin ; while, among the transported, a perfect equality will exist; there will be none to censure, where all are conscious of being obnoxious to rebuke; and each having ample means of employment and support, a bright and encouraging prospect will beam upon them; emulation will be awakened, virtuous intentions will once more assume their chastening influence, religion will breathe the soothing consolations of repentance and forgiveness, and declining age will be gilded with the radiance of that eternal salvation, which is the promised reward of contrite hearts.

To carry the system of banishment into effect, the co-operation of the national government is requisite, as a general receptacle for the convicts of all the states must be provided; and this could be done by the purchase of a fertile island, situated within the mild latitudes of the Pacific ocean, which should be laid out into counties, towns, and farm sections, and placed under the superintendence of an officer, vested with the powers of a civil and military governor, and who should be guided in his duties by a code of laws best calculated to insure subordination, to encourage industry, and to improve the morals and comfort of the convicts. Each convict to be furnished with a tract of land

for a farm, if agriculture is his occupation, or a lot in the capital seaport, if intending to follow some mechanical or other trade; to be aided in the erection of a temporary dwelling, supplied with provisions for one year at least, and with seeds and tools sufficient for commencing his labors. Cattle, horses, sheep, swine, and poultry, to be gradually introduced and distributed; places for public worship and schools founded; a local legislature to be formed, by the convicts, for the enactment of municipal regulations, so far as may be found expedient, and the whole to be managed like a national colony, where all are to be encouraged to participate, in the duties and advantages of citizens of a rising empire, and no farther restrained in their liberties, than is indispensable, for the peace, security, and prosperity of the establish

ment.

The chief town should be located, where the best harbor is to be found, and there a military post must be maintained, and the requisite public buildings erected.

The necessary expenditures, may be either made out of the national treasury, or from the contributions of the several states, in proportion to their representation in Congress.

As it is very important that conviction should follow detection, and deportation conviction, as speedily as possible, ships may be provided by the General Government, to sail from two, three, or more of the principal ports of the Union, every two or three months, or oftener if found expedient, in which the convicts of the states, nearest the several ports of departure, may be shipped.

THE ANTLERS.*

Ir was one broad and green domain,
Which white man's foot had never trod;
No pilgrim's blood had flowed to stain
The verdure of the wind-kissed sod.

The giant oaks their branches swung,

To winds that swept through forest-aisles;
The Indian lurked the trees among,

Or crept along the rock-defiles;

And narrow paths wound through the wood,
Where here and there a wigwam stood.
The black duck, on his glossy wing,

Sailed the calm, blue water over,

And o'er the marsh, in airy ring,
Wheeled, at morn and eve, the plover.
Along the green and lovely lawn
Bounded forth, most playfully,
To river's brink, the agile fawn,
To bathe her graceful limbs, as free
As if she feared no arrow true
Would harm her in those waters blue.
The partridge, from her covert green,

Led forth her gay and chirping brood,

* In a beautiful village, about forty miles from Boston, is a pair of antlers, fastened to a post, once a flourishing tree, at the intersection of two roads. They were placed there, many years ago, by an Indian Chief, one of the last of his tribe, who had pursued the deer from sunset till sunrise the next morning, and finally shot her a few yards distant from the tree on the bank of the river. Tradition also says, that his bones were laid beneath the tree upon which he fastened her antlers.

And there the rabbit shy was seen
Upon her form; the solitude
Of verdant plain and woodland hill
Was yet unbroken by the tread
Of busy man; as silent, still,

As some lone city of the dead-
Save when the eagle, from his warm
And beetling eyrie from on high,
Bade proud defiance to the storm,

And screamed his notes in loud reply;
Or when the Indian war-song, heard,
Aroused, from his high perch, the bird,
Or wild-beast, from his noon-day lair,
To cower in fright and terror there.
Young Morning's lids are opening now,
Upon that lawn, with dewdrops wet,
And all the mountain's rocky brow
Sparkles, as if with jewels set.
The sunlight streams along the sky,
And fragrant dell and dancing river;
On dewy lawn and oak-tree high

Its golden light is seen to quiver,
O'er every shrub the radiance stealing;
And as the leaves upon the trees
In the first breath of morning stir,
The landscape far beyond revealing,
The scene is like some paradise,
Than earthly garden lovelier.

Lo panting by that silver stream,
The antlered fawn is standing now;
All night-since his last setting beam

The sun threw on that mountain's brow,
And eve's dim shadows came-no green
Retreat had she to cool her breast;
The Indian on her track hath been,

Giving no peaceful evening rest.

She pants-those nimble limbs, whose spring
Was rapid as the lightning's wing,
No more will bound o'er hill and dale,
When hunter's cry is on the gale.
Full many a mile, o'er wood and plain,
As Morn Night's veil doth lift again,
The foot-prints on the dewy grass

Are seen, where that fleet fawn did pass ;
And at the moonlit brook and rill,
The hunter, close upon her still,

Is her light track, ere she did spring,
Then hear far back their waters sing,
As she bounds on through grassy dell,
Whose sweet retreats she knows so well.
She stops not, for the Indian's tread
Nearer is heard, and now hath sped
His bolt from out the leafy trees,
While she, far off, snuffs in the breeze;
O'er hill and plain, with rapid pace
Bounding, has found no resting-place
Till now, as drinking the cool wave,
She fears the current's might to brave.
And what but weariness could keep

Her limbs chained on that fatal place-
From trusting to the rushing deep

Her form of loveliness and grace? She dreads into its whirling flood

To plunge once more, to reach the plain,

Lest the winged arrow with her blood
The silver-leaping tide should stain.
Why turns her eye to woodland glen?
Why start at rustling leaves, as when
The wild beast rushes from his lair,
To spring upon his victim there?
Hears she the Indian on his path,

Creeping along with stealthy tread,
The well-known sound, that warning hath,
And draws the arrow to its head?

One plunge

That arrow cuts the air,
And quivers in its victim there,
Drinking the life-blood from her breast;
And ere the hunter's foot hath pressed
The river's bank, that fawn has died,
Mingling her warm blood with the tide.

But many years have fled since then,
And white men's feet have trod that glen.
Many an autumn, on that plain,
The harvest ripe of golden grain

Has been garnered, and that stream,

From dawn till day's last golden beam,

Has borne upon its silver tide

Many a noble ship in pride,

Where red men, in their light canoe,

Shot swiftly o'er those waters blue.
Now not a relic of that race

Is seen upon that lovely place,

Save when the ploughman, with his spade
Turns up a bone, where they were laid.
Beneath yon tree is mouldering now
His noble frame who drew that bow;
Above his grave, on that sweet lawn,
Hang the broad antlers of the fawn.
But not a deer upon the green

And blooming forest-fields is seen;
They're gone;-the hunter and his game
From woodland path-their fate the same.

J. H. W.

MAGNANIMITY.

ALL the most important traits of an interesting character may be reduced to one or the other of two classes, the admirable or the lovely, the great or the good, in the peculiar application of those terms. These different virtues, indeed, are not distinguished by any clear line of discrimination. They not only border on each other; but, like the colors of the rainbow, are more or less intermingled, so as to render it difficult to say where the one begins, or the other ends. Nothing in human character is truly great, which is not good; nor is there any thing amiable, which may not be carried to such an extent, as to become in a sense great and sublime.

Magnanimity is to be regarded as a moral attribute,—as more intimately connected with the affections, than with the understanding. It is not, perhaps, so properly one virtue, as an habitual disposition for the exercise of several kindred virtues, as circumstances may