and most renowned portions of the European continent, I find myself constantly comparing the towns and villages which I see here with these foreign lands. One thing is clear, that there are in continental Europe no such country towns and villages as those of New England and some other portions of this country. Not only the exterior but the interior is totally different. The villages there resemble the squalid suburbs of a city; the people are like their houses-poor and subservient -narrow in intellect, feeling, and habits of thought. I know twenty towns in France, having from two to ten thousand inhabitants, where, if you except the prefects, mayors, notaries, and a few other persons in each place, there is scarcely a family that rises to the least independence of thought, or even a moderate elevation of character. All the power, all the thought, all the genius, all the expanse of intellect, are centred at Paris. The blood of the country is drawn to this seat and centre, leaving the limbs and members cold and pulseless as those of a corpse.

How different is it in this country! The life, vigor, power of these United States are diffused through a thousand veins and arteries over the whole people, every limb nourished; every member invigorated! New York, Philadelphia, and Boston do not give law to this country; that comes from the people-the farmers, mechanics, manufacturers, merchants-independent in their circumstances, and sober, religious, virtuous in their habits of thought and conduct. I make allowance for the sinister influence of vice, which abounds in some places; for the debasing effects of demagogism in our politicians; for the corruption of selfish and degrading interests, cast into the general current of public feeling and opinion. I admit that these sometimes make the nation swerve, for a time, from the path of wisdom, but the wandering is neither wide nor long. The preponderating national mind is just and sound, and if danger comes, it will manifest its power and avert it.

THE LEAF.

It came with spring's soft sun and showers,
Mid bursting buds and blushing flowers;

It flourish'd on the same light stem,

It drank the same clear dews with them.
The crimson tints of summer morn,

That gilded one, did each adorn.

The breeze, that whisper'd light and brief
To bud or blossom, kiss'd the leaf;
When o'er the leaf the tempest flew,
The bud and blossom trembled too.
But its companions pass'd away,
And left the leaf to lone decay.
The gentle gales of spring went by,
The fruits and flowers of summer die.
The autumn winds swept o'er the hill,
And winter's breath came cold and chill.
The leaf now yielded to the blast,
And on the rushing stream was cast.
Far, far it glided to the sea,
And whirl'd and eddied wearily,
Till suddenly it sank to rest,

And slumber'd in the ocean's breast.
Thus life begins-its morning hours
Bright as the birth-day of the flowers;
Thus passes like the leaves away,
As wither'd and as lost as they.
Beneath the parent roof we meet
In joyous groups, and gayly greet
The golden beams of love and light,
That kindle to the youthful sight.
But soon we part, and one by one,
Like leaves and flowers, the group is gone.
One gentle spirit seeks the tomb,

His brow yet fresh with childhood's bloom.
Another treads the paths of fame,
And barters peace to win a name.
Another still tempts fortune's wave,
And, seeking wealth, secures a grave.
The last grasps yet the brittle thread-
Though friends are gone and joy is dead,
Still dares the dark and fretful tide,
And clutches at its power and pride,
Till suddenly the waters sever,
And, like the leaf, he sinks forever.

EDWARD ROBINSON.

THIS distinguished philologist and traveller, the son of Rev. William Robinson, who was pastor of the Congregational Church at Southington, Conn., for forty-one years, was born at that place, on the 10th of April, 1794. Being of a rather delicate constitution, his father thought it best not to give him a professional education, but to place him

39

where he would have more active employment. Accordingly, though he had been fitted for college, he was placed in a country store in his native place, in which it was designed he should be a partner. But this did not suit his taste; and, being on a visit to his uncle, at Clinton, Oneida County, New York, early in 1812, he concluded to enter Hamilton College, which had just been chartered. Accordingly, in the fall, he joined the first Freshman class, and graduated in 1816, with the highest honors. In October of the next year, he was appointed tutor in his Alma Mater, where he remained a year, teaching the mathematics and the Greek language. In the latter part of the year 1818, he was married to the youngest daughter of Rev. Samuel Kirkland, and sister of the late President Kirkland, of Harvard University. She died in the following July, and Mr. Robinson remained in Clinton, pursuing his studies, for two years longer.

In December, 1821, he went to Andover, Mass., to print a small portion of the "Iliad,” which he had prepared, with notes for college instruction; and while here, he became interested in the subject of religion, and determined to study the Hebrew, as preparatory to theology. After being in the seminary two years, he was appointed assistant instructor, and continued such till 1826, translating, in the mean time, from the German, "Wahl's Clavis Novi Testamenti," or Lexicon of the New Testament.

In the summer of 1826, he went to Europe, and spent there four years in travelling, combined with hard study, and became intimately acquainted with some of the most distinguished professors of the German Universities; in the mean time (1828), marrying the youngest daughter of Professor Ludwig von Jacob, of Halle. On his return home in 1830, he was appointed Professor Extraordinary of Sacred Literature in the Andover Theological Seminary. In 1831, he commenced the publication of the "Biblical Repository," of which he was the editor and chief contributor for four years. In 1833, appeared his translation of "Buttman's Greek Grammar," and in 1836, his new "Lexicon of the New Testament," and his translation of the "Hebrew Lexicon of Gesenius."

In 1537, Dr. Robinson was appointed Professor of Biblical Literature in the Union Theological Seminary, in the city of New York, the station which he still holds. He accepted the appointment on condition that he might be permitted to carry out a plan previously formed, of visiting the lands of the Bible, in conjunction with his friend, Rev. Eli Smith, a missionary of the American Board. This he accomplished, and then repaired to Berlin, and there devoted himself for two years to the preparation of his "Biblical Researches in

Palestine." In 1840, he returned to New York, and his great work was published the next year in three volumes, in Boston, London, and at Halle. It at once established his fame, and for learning, unwearied investigation, and scrupulous fidelity, placed him in the very front rank of travellers; and the Royal Geographical Society of London awarded to him one of their gold medals.

Notwithstanding his many official labors connected with the seminary, Dr. Robinson projected and established, in 1843, "The Bibliotheca Sacra," which, for critical theological learning, has not its superior on either side of the Atlantic. He also published, in 1845, a 'Harmony of the Four Gospels in Greek," and the next year an "English Harmony." In 1850, appeared a new edition of his "Lexicon of the New Testament," on which he spent much labor.

In 1851, Dr. Robinson again set out for Palestine, to make new researches, as well as to go over some of the ground formerly explored. He returned in 1852, and made preparations for a new volume, which appeared in 1856, both in this country and England, and in the German language at Berlin. This great work is now the standard upon the geography of Palestine, and for accuracy and thoroughness leaves nothing more to be desired.

PLAIN BEFORE SINAI.

As we advanced, the valley still opened wider and wider, with a gentle ascent, and became full of shrubs and tufts of herbs, shut in on each side by lofty granite ridges with rugged, shattered peaks a thousand feet high, while the face of Horeb rose directly before us. Both my companion and myself involuntarily exclaimed: "Here is room enough for a large encampment!" Reaching the top of the ascent, or water-shed, a fine broad plain lay before us, sloping down gently towards the S. S. E., inclosed by rugged and venerable mountains of dark granite, stern, naked, splintered peaks and ridges, of indescribable grandeur, and terminated at the distance of more than a mile by the bold and awful front of Horeb, rising perpendicularly, in frowning majesty, from twelve to fifteen hundred feet in height. It was a scene of solemn grandeur, wholly unexpected, and such as we had never seen; and the associations which at the moment rushed upon our minds were almost overwhelming. As we went on, new points of interest were continually opening to our view. On the left of Horeb, a deep and narrow valley runs up S. S. E., between lofty walls of rock,

as if in continuation of the S. E. corner of the plain. In this valley, at the distance' of near a mile from the plain, stands the convent; and the deep verdure of its fruit-trees and cypresses is seen as the traveller approaches-an oasis of beauty amid scenes of the sternest desolation. Still advancing, the front of Horeb rose like a wall before us; and one can approach quite to the foot, and touch the mount. As we crossed the plain, our feelings were strongly affected at finding here, so unexpectedly, a spot so entirely adapted to the Scriptural account of the giving of the law. No traveller has described this plain, nor even mentioned it, except in a slight and general manner, probably because the most have reached the convent by another route, without passing over it; and perhaps, too, because neither the highest point of Sinai (now called Jebel Musa), nor the still loftier summit of St. Catharine, is visible from any part of it.

THE TOP OF SINAI.

The extreme difficulty and even danger of the ascent was well rewarded by the prospect that now opened before us. The whole plain er-Rahah lay spread out beneath our feet, with the adjacent Wadys and mountains; while Wady esh-Sheikh on the right, and the recess on the left, both connected with, and opening broadly from er-Råhah, presented an area which serves nearly to double that of the plain. Our conviction was strengthened, that here, or on some one of the adjacent cliffs, was the spot where the Lord "descended in fire," and proclaimed the law. Here lay the plain where the whole congregation might be assembled; here was the mount that could be approached and touched, if not forbidden; and here the mountain brow, where alone the lightnings and the thick cloud would be visible, and the thunders and the voice of the trump be heard, when the Lord "came down in the sight of all the people upon Mount Sinai." We gave ourselves up to the impressions of the awful scene, and read, with a feeling that will never be forgotten, the sublime account of the transaction and the commandments there promulgated, in the original words as recorded by the great Hebrew legislator.1

Exod. xix. 9-25; xx. 1-21.