A few words on the navy, and we have done--and only a few words; for we have nothing to say, but to give unqualified praise. In the habiliments of our jolly tras--God bless 'em!--utility is every thing, ornament nothing. They are clad just as they should be; and yet, on gala days, they know how to make themselves as coquettish as any girl on Portsmouth Downs. There is no greater dandy in the world, in his peculiar way, than your regular man-of-war's man. The short jacket, and the loose trousers, and the neat pumps, and the trim little hat, and the checked shirt, and the black riband round his neck--he is quite irresistible among the fairer portion of the creation. Or in a stormy night, with his pilot coat on, at the lonely helm, and his northwester pulled close over his ears, and his steady, unflinching eye, and his warm, lion-like heart within--the true sailor is one of the noblest specimens of man. He that is fierce as a bull, and yet tender-hearted like a young child--the greatest blasphemer on earth, and yet the most religious, or even the most superstitious, of men--he is not to be tied down by the rules of aesthetics, like a land-crab. His home is on the sea, as somebody has said or sung; he has nobody there to see him but himself, (if we may be excused the bull.) What does he care for dress? Only look at him standing by his gun, when broadside after broadside is pouring into the timbers of some sanguinary Yankee or blustering Frenchman. What is his uniform then? Let them declare who have seen that most awful of human sights, a great battle at sea; but let them not whisper it in ears feminine or polite. To the officers, we will only add a word--let them eschew all hats and short coats, and keep to their caps and frocks. This is their proper dress. Let them keep themselves warm, comfortable, and ever ready for service. Never let them face their coats with red again. The old blue and white against all the world, say we! And let the soldiers take a leaf out of the sailors' books, and remember that utility, though accompanied by plainness, is far more consonant to the laws of aesthetics than unmeaning ornament or erroneous form. GOETHE TO HIS ROMAN LOVE. ATTEMPTED IN THE ORIGINAL METRE.