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responsible. These acts set in motion influences which operate to the end of time. And while the Omniscient one forsees all the issues, and in the meantime assigns accordingly to each individual his proper place, even he cannot fully exhibit these issues to others, until they have worked themselves out, and the whole scheme becomes complete. Then, and then only, can each individual case be distinctly seen. Hence that is not only the proper but the earliest possible period that could be fixed upon for a public official annoncement of the results of individual cases, and of the great scheme as a whole. Then only, can a public official bestowment of rewards and punishments take place, and the whole universe be let into the knowledge of all the results; so that, although each individual destiny may have been long settled, yet an official " revelation of the righteous judgment of God" cannot take place at an earlier period. In this there is nothing very unusual, nothing contrary to what occurs among men. In the Olympic games, for instance, we have what is precisely analogous. Those who conquered, received applause in so doing, and took their stand among the victors, immediately on reaching the goal. Yet there they must stand, with the applause and joyous exultation, that naturally attended success, and wait for an official crowning, and an official announcement of their victory, till the end of the games. There was no suspension, or turning off, of the attention from the great trials that were going on, in order to crown officially an individual victor. The set time for this was when the results were all in. We may further add, that this objection, so far as it is an objection, bears as much against an intermediate abode, as against the soul's going immediately to heaven and hell. The one view no more supersedes, or conflicts with, a general judgment than the other. According to both views, the righteous and the wicked are supposed to occupy separate abodes during the interval between death and the judgment, the righteous in a state of happiness, the wicked in a state of misery; consequently both imply that a judicial, discriminating sentence is passed upon all at death, while both expect a more complete and final award to be officially announced and carried into effect at the last day. But it may be asked again, if the righteous and wicked go at once to their places of happiness or misery, what need of a resurrection of the body, afterwards? We reply, it is necessary, in order to bring on a full and complete triumph over the works of the devil. Were the body left in its state of dissolution and decay, the triumph over the ruins of the fall, would be incomplete. Not only so, but it is fitting that the body, which with the soul has suffered and struggled through the trials of the mortal, should also share in the triumphs and joys of the immortal, state, and so the reverse of this in the case of the wicked. That the triumph both of the soul and of the body, should take place, each in its own time, yet both be triumphant in the end, well accords with the progress and development of the whole system, as we now see it moving on about us. There is seemingly in it no haste, everything has its season, one thing waiting for another, each as a part looking forward to, and waiting for, the incoming of a final and glorious consummation. And here, without touching upon the many associated topics, such as the recognition and reunion of friends in the spiritual state, their employments, and what may still be their relation and intercourse with the living; we close our discussion of this subject, a subject to us full of mystery, respecting which nature says nothing, and philosophy is as silent as the grave; on which revelation alone sheds any light, and yet a subject so deeply interesting, so important to us as pilgrims, who are soon to pass into that unseen state. Oh! that when the time of our departure shall come, and we shall find ourselves on the confines of that world, we may then, like the thief on the cross, find a friend in the King of that country, and like him also have administered to us an abundant entrance into the heavenly Paradise.
By Alphcns S. Packard, Professor in Bowdoin College. We propose to offer some remarks on the subject of Nationality. The attention of the civilized world has, within a short period, been directed to inquiries suggested by this topic. The subject has claims on the ear of every citizen of the Republic. We cannot but notice, in regard to this spirit of nationality, that it is an all-pervading and most sensitive element of national character. It pervades the body politic like the lifeblood in the human body, and is quick to feel, like the tissue of nerves, which is spread over the whole human frame. How was this illustrated, a few years since, when the spirit of both American and English nationality was kindled into a flame in consequence of the burning of the Caroline, in our western waters, by a party of Canadians, and the death of two or three individuals in the affair, and the arrest, subsequently, of a worthless British subject, and his trial before our courts for his participation in that matter! Thus a transaction, really paltry in itself, but touching as it did the nerve of the two nations already in an irritable state, came near involving them in the most formidable of national calamities. A more striking illustration of this point has, more recently, attracted the notice of the civilized world: an individual who, but for his part in the affair, would probably never have been heard of, a Hungarian by birth, was forcibly seized, in the harbor of Smyrna, taken on board an Austrian vessel of war, with the design, on the part of his captors, of conveying him to Austria as a State criminal. Two or three years before, he had taken refuge in this country, had declared his intention to become a citizen, and had taken the preliminary measures for naturalization. It was but an inchoate citizenship, not a full and perfect title, which he could maintain; and yet enough to insure him the protection of this Government. The Government, in the person of its only representative on that distant shore, reached forth its arms for his rescue, and, in justification of that novel and bold act, there was aroused, from one end of the land to the other, a fervid, exulting national spirit, which the proudest absolutism of Europe was compelled to respect. It was the boast of Cicero, that " the body of every Roman citizen was inviolable" (Pro Rabirio, § 4). It was guarded by a most sensitive and jealous spirit of nationality, which pervaded the whole Roman empire. In two instances, the apostle Paul alarmed the magistrates who had scourged him in Judea, more by an appeal to his rights as a Roman citizen, which they had outraged, than if he had summoned a legion of armed men to his rescue. The spirit of Roman nationality had been wronged, and they trembled for the consequences of the rash and illegal acts. Another point regarding this spirit of nationality, which has been impressed on the memory of a generation not yet gone, by one of the most deplorable events in the history of nations, is its lasting, we might almost say its indestructible, power. On the 5th of January, 1810, the French ambassador at the Court of Russia (Coulaincourt) signed a form of convention, which formally put forth: 1st, that the kingdom of Poland should never be reestablished; 2d, that the names of Poland and Polish should be forbidden on all occasions." Napoleon would not ratify the doings of his ambassador; but the Czar of Russia maintained, with terrible tenacity, his purpose concerning unfortunate Poland. The dreadful retribution with which the noble and unexampled struggle of the Poles, in 1830 and 1831, to regain their standing among the nations was visited by Russian vengeance, is well remembered. No method which military and civil despotism, triumphant and revengeful, could devise, was spared. Their most eminent citizens, after a mock trial, were executed like common soldiers, or were banished to Siberian wilds; their names were taken from them (the individuals, when it was necessary, being designated by numbers), and they were not allowed to converse of their homes or of their sorrows, or to have any correspondence. Nothing Polish, whether civil or military, was suffered to remain. Everything was made Russian. The national language, in all legislative acts, was supplanted by that of Muscovy. Young men, if destined to military service, were incorporated into Russian regiments; or, if they chose a civil life, were compelled to receive education in a Russian university. The university of Poland was abolished ; her schools were subjected to a surveillance fatal to their prosperity. Nicholas caused a fortress, which might contain forty thousand men, to be erected at the gates of Warsaw; between Warsaw and St. Petersburgh a line of telegraphs was established, by which, even at night, by illuminated disks, intelligence might be communicated, in an hour and a half, from one city to the other, a distance of more than five hundred miles, so that in case of an insurrectionary movement, in a few hours orders might be received to reduce Warsaw to ashes. The commercial interests of the Poles, whose name was not to be uttered within the dominions of the Czar, were annihilated. Thus, in utter disregard and defiance of solemn, repeated treaties with other powers, stipulating the integrity of the Polish nation, the Autocrat did all that man could do, to efface the name of Poland from the thoughts of men, as it has already disappeared from the map of Europe. An effort on such a scale, to exterminate a nation, is without precedent in the history of the world. And yet is Polish nationality annihilated? Thousands of her exiles are dispersed over Europe; many, even, have fled to this country, who fondly cherish and cautiously reveal their hopes, that divine Justice does not sleep, that a day of freedom will yet come; and they are watching, with aching hearts, for the signal to gird on their armor for the liberation of their devoted country. The spirit of nationality cannot be easily crushed; it has survived through conquest and dismemberment of country, the violent overthrow of national institutions, and the dispersion of the inhabitants over other lands. It lives in the most dreary exile.