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effort, still more extravagantly ; pile and accumulate every assistance you can buy or borrow; traffic and barter with every little pitiful German prince, that sells and sends his subjects to the shambles of a foreign despot; your efforts are for ever vain and impotent: doubly so from this mercenary aid on which you rely. For it irritates, to an incurable resentment, the minds of your enemies to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder; devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty !-If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down my armsnever-never-never.
- VINDICATION OF SPAIN.
Permit me, sir, to express my regret and decided disapprobation of the terms of reproach and contempt in which this nation has been spoken of on this floor; “poor, degraded Spain," has resounded from various parts of the house. Is it becoming, sir, the dignity of a representative of the American people to utter, from his high station, invectives against a nation, with whom we cultivate and maintain the most friendly relations? Is it discreet, sir, in an individual, however enlightened, to venture upon a denunciation of a whole people ?
We talk of a war with Spain, as a matter of amusement. I do not desire to partake of it. It will not be found a very comfortable war, not from her power to do so much harm, but from the impossibility of gaining any thing by it, or of wearing out her patience,
or subduing her fortitude. The history of every Spanish war, is a history of immovable obstinacy, that seems to be confirmed and hardened by misfor. tune and trial. In her frequent contests with England, the latter, after all her victories, has been the first to desire peace.
Let gentlemen not deceive themselves, about the pleasantry of a Spanish war. May they not, sir, have some respect for the past character of this nation? The time has been, when a Spanish knight, was the type of every thing that was chivalrous in valour, generous in honour, and pure in patriotism. A century has hardly gone by, since the Spanish infantry was the terror of Europe and the pride of soldiers. But those days of her glory are past. Where, now, is that invincible courage ; that noble devotion to honour ; that exalted love of country? Let me tell you, in a voice of warning, they are buried in the mines of Mexico and the mountains of Peru. Beware, my countrymen ; look not with so eager an eye to these fatal possessions, which will also be the grave of your strength and virtue, should you be so unfortunate as to obtain them.
1 " SALATHIEL TO TITUS.
Son of Vespasian, I am at this hour a poor man; as I may in the next be an exile or a slave : I have ties to life as strong as ever were bound round the heart of man: I stand here a suppliant for the life of one whose loss would embitter mine! Yet, not for wealth unlimited, for the safety of my family, for the life of the noble victim that is now standing at the place of torture, dare I abandon, dare I think the impious thought of abandoning, the cause of the City of Holiness.
Titus ! in the name of that Being, to whom the wisdom of the earth is folly, I adjure you to beware. Jerusalem is sacred. Her crimes have often wrought her misery-often has she been trampled by the armies of the stranger. But she is still the City of the Omnipotent; and never was blow inflicted on her by man, that was not terribly repaid.
The Assyrian came, the mightiest power of the world: he plundered her temple, and led her people into captivity. How long was it before his empire was a dream, his dynasty extinguished in blood, and an enemy on his throne ?- The Persian came : from her protector, he turned into her oppressor ; and his empire was swept away like the dust of the desert!--The Syrian smote her : the smiter died in agonies of remorse ; and where is his kingdom now ?--The Egyptian smote her; and who now sits on the throne of the Ptolemies?
Pompey came; the invincible, the conqueror of a thousand cities: the light of Rome; the lord of Asia, riding on the very wings of victory. But he profaned her Temple ; and from that hour he went down-down, like a mill-stone plunged into the ocean! Blind counsel, rash ambition, womanish fears, were upon the great statesman and warrior of Rome. Where does he sleep? What sands were coloured with his blood ? The universal conqueror died a slave,. by the hands of a slave !--Crassus came at the head of the legions : he plundered the sacred vessels of the sanctuary. Vengeance followed him, and he was cursed by the curse of God. Where are the bones of the robber and his host ? Go, tear them from the jaws of the lion and the wolf of Parthia,- their fitting tomb!
You, too, son of Vespasian, may be commissioned for the punishment of a stiff-necked and rebellious people. You may scourge our naked vice by the force of arms; and then you may return to your own land exulting in the conquest of the fiercest enemy of Rome. But shall you escape the common fate of the instrument of evil ?—shall you see a peaceful old age ?-Shall a son of yours ever sit upon the throne ?-Shall not rather some monster of your blood efface the memory of your virtues, and make Rome, in bitterness of soul, curse the Flavian name?
THE END OF THE WORLD. THERE has been a time when our planet could not sustain beings of our species; and once again the time will come, when it will cease to be the dwellingplace of mankind, and will either assume a new form or disappear from the rank of stars.
The earth bears in its bosom destroying powers ; and bodies float around and near it, which threaten its dissolution.
Therefore, thou wilt not subsist for ever, thou cradle of our race; thou land of blessing and cursing; thou grave full of joy and life ; thou paradise full of pain and death ; thou scene for thousands of years of our wisdom and folly, our virtues and vices. No, thou canst not last for ever! Thou thyself also, like every thing that thou bearest, must obey thy law, the law of mutability and destruction.
Possibly thou mayest continue thy course for thousands of years longer with strength and gladness, attended by thy moon and led by thy shining sun. Possibly thou mayest still for thousands of years maintain the succession of days and nights, summer and winter, in invariable order, and see the generations of man come and go.
Finite art thou, and transitory — as thy children are finite and transitory. For that which is created is not eternal and imperishable, as the Creator is eternal and immutable. For thee also a limit is fixed. Even thy long day will decline. He that formed thee will change thee: he that created thee will destroy thee; even thy strength shall decay ; even thy structure shall fall into ruins ; even thy law and thy order shall be no more.
On all sides, wherever we turn our eyes, we are met by images of decay. History is a large silent field, covered with ruins and graves. What we bear in the memory is past and gone. What we built we see totter; and in the humiliating feeling of diminished and wasting energy of life, the sad idea of approaching dissolution often occurs. But we are never more forcibly affected by the feeling of the vanity of worldly things, than when we transport ourselves in imagination to the day of the falling world, and hover, as it were, over the ruins of our destroyed planet.
The earth has now filled the measure of its years, and its time is come; the conflict of the elements begins, and in the mighty struggle all the works of men perish, and the last of our race are buried under the ruins of falling palaces and cottages ; and not only the works of men, but the works of nature also come to an end ; the barriers of beach and shore are