587. OUR COUNTRY. And let the sa- 588. MORAL EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCE. cred obligations which have devolved on The sufferings of animal nature, occasioned this generation, and on us, sink deep into by intemperance, are not to be compared with our hearts. Those are daily dropping from the moral aonies, which convulse the soul. among us, who established our liberty and It is an immortal being, who sins, and suffers; our government. The great trust now des- and, as his earthly house dissolves, he is apcends to new hands. Let us apply our-proaching the judgment-seat, in anticipation selves to that which is presented to us, as of a miserable eternity. He feels his captiour appropriate object. We can win no lau- vity, and, in anguish of spirit, clanks his rels in a war for independence. Earlier and chain, and cries for help. Conscience thunworthier hands have gathered them all. Nor ders, remorse goads, and, as the gulph opens are there places for us by the side of Solon, before him, he recoils, and trembles, and and Alfred, and other founders of states. weeps, and prays, and resolves, and proOur fathers have filled them. But there re-mises, and reforms, and "seeks it yet again;" mains to us a great duty of defence and pre- again resolves, and weeps, and prays, and servation; and there is opened to us, also, a "seeks it yet again!" Wretched man! he noble pursuit, to which the spirit of the times has placed himself in the hands of a giant, strongly invites us. Our proper business is who never pities, and never relaxes his iron improvement. Let our age be the age of im-gripe. He may struggle, but he is in chains. provement. In a day of peace, let us advance the arts of peace, and the works of peace; let us develop the resources of our land; call forth its powers, build up its institutions, promote all its great interests, and see whether we also, in our day and generation, may not perform something worthy to be remembered. Let us cultivate a true spirit of union and harmony. In pursuing the great objects which our, condition points out to us, let us act un-ness and tenderness, and conscience loses its der a settled conviction, and an habitual feeling, that these twenty-six states are one country. Let our conceptions be enlarged to the circle of our duties. Let us extend our ideas over the whole of the vast field in which we are called to act. Let our object be, our country, our whole country, and nothing but our country. And, by the blessing of God, may that country itself become a vast and splendid monument, not of oppression and terror, but of wisdom, of peace, and of liberty, upon which the world may gaze with admiration forever.-Webster.

DISAPPOINTED AMBITION.

In full-blown diguity-see Wolsey stand,
Law-in his voice, and fortune-in his hand; [sign;
To him. the church, the realm, their powers con-
Through him, the rays of regal bounty shine;
Turn'd by his nod, the stream of honor flows;
His smile alone, security bestows.

He may cry for release, but it comes not;
and lost! lost! may be inscribed on the door-
posts of his dwelling. In the meantime, these
paroxysms of his dying nature decline, and
a fearful apathy, the harbinger of spiritual
death, comes on. His resolution fails, and
his mental energy, and his vigorous enter-
prise; and nervous irritation and depression
ensue. The social affections lose their full-
power, and the heart its sensibility, until all
that was once lovely, and of good report, re-
tires and leaves the wretch, abandoned to
the appetites of a ruined animal. In this de-
plorable condition, reputation expires, busi-
ness falters, and becomes perplexed, and
temptations to drink multiply, as inclination
to do so increases, and the power of resistance
declines. And now the vortex roars, and the
struggling victim buffets the fiery wave, with
feebler stroke, and warning supplication, un-
til despair flashes upon his soul, and, with an
outery, that pierces the heavens, he ceases to
strive, and disappears.-Beecher.

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENACHERIB.
The Assyrian came down, like a wolf-on the fold,
And his cohorts-were gleaming-in purple, and gold;
And the sheen of his spears-was like stars-on fhe sea,
When the blue wars-rolls nightly, on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest-when summer is green,
That host, with their banners, at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,
That host, on the morrow lay withered and strown.
For the angel of death-spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the for, as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers-waxed deadly, and chill,
And their hearts, but once heaved, and forever, were still!
And there--lay the steed, with his nostrils all wide,
But through them-there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping--lay white on the turf,
And cold-as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
And there-lay the rider, distorted, and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances-unlifted, the trumpets-unl]>wn.
And the widows of Ashur-are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke-in the temple of Raal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted, like snow, in the glance of the Lord!—Byron.
Justice is as strictly due between neigh-

Still, to new heights, his restless wishes tower;
Claim leads to claim, and power advances power;
Till conquest, unresisted, ceased to please,
And rights submitted-left him none to seize.
At length, his sovereign frowns; the train of state
Mark the keen glance, and watch the sign to hate.
Where'er he turns. he meets a stranger's eye;
His suppliants scorn him, and his followers fly.
How drops, at once, the pride of awful state,
The golden canopy, the glittering plate,
The regal palace, the luxurious board,
The liveried army, and the menial lord!
With age, with cares, with maladies oppressed,
He seeks the refuge of monastic rest.
Grief aids disease, remembered folly stings,
And his last sighs-reproach the faith of kings.
Expectation. It is proper for all to re-bor nations, as between neighbor citizens.
member, that they ought not to raise expecta-
tion, which it is not in their power to satisfy,
and that it is more pleasing to see smoke
brightening into flame, than flame-sinking
into smoke.

Frailty--thy name's Man; the earth-waits her king.
Bailly-thy name is Woman; the earth-waits her queen.

A highwayman is as much a robber, when
he plunders in a gang, as when single, and
a nation, that makes an unjust war, is only
a great gung.

True happiness-is to no place confined:
But still is found--in a contented mind

597. NATIONAL GLORY.

We are asked, what have we gained by the war? I have shown, that we have lost nothing, either in rights, territory, or honor; nothing, for which we ought to have contended, according to the principles of the gentlemen on the other s de, or according to our own. Have we gained nothing-by the war? Let any man--look at the degraded condition of this country--before the war, the scorn of the universe, the contempt of ourselves, and tell me if we have gained nothing by the war. What is our present situation? Respectability, and character, abroad, security, And confidence, at home. If we have not obCamed, in the opinion of some, the full measure of retribution, our character, and constitution, are placed on a solid basis, never to be shaken.

The glory acquired by our gallant tars, by our Jacksons, and our Browns on the land-is that nothing? True we had our vicissitudes: there are humiliating events, which the patriot cannot review, without deep regret--but the great account, when it comes to be balanced, will be found vastly in our favor. Is there a man, who would obliterate, from the proud pages of our history, the bril liant achievements of Jackson, Brown, and Scott, and the host of heroes on land, and sea, whom I cannot enumerate? Is there a man, who could not desire a participationin the national glory, acquired by the war? Yes, national glory, which, however the expression may be condemned by some, must be cherished by every genuine patriot.

The morrow, and the mori

No daunting thoughts-4
He looked around him, and
Defiance flashed-to earth,
He looked on ocean,—its bi
Was covered--with his f
On earth and saw, from ea

His bannered millions meet:
While rock, and glen, and cave, and coas
Shook-with the war-cry of that host,

The thunder--of their feet!
He heard--the imperial echoes ring,-
He heard.--and felt himself-a king.
I saw him, next. alone: nor camp,
Nor chief, his steps attended;
Nor banner blazed, nor courser's tramp,
With war-cries, proudly blended,
He, stood alone, whom fortune high,
So lately, seemed to deify;

He, who with heaven contended,
Fled, like a fugitive, and slave!
Behind-the foe; before,-the wave.
He stood; fleet, army, treasure,-gone.-
Alone, and in dispair!

But wave, and wind-swept ruthless on,
For they were monarchs there;
And Xerxes, in a single bark,
Where late-his thousand ships were dark,
Must all their fury dare:
What a revenge-a trophy, this-

For thee, immortal Salamis!--Jewsbury. What do I mean by national glory? Glo599. OSSIAN'S ADDRESS TO THE MOON. ry such as Hull, Jackson, and Perry have acquired. Daughter of heaven, fair art thou! the siAnd are gentlemen insensible to their deeds--to the value of them in anima-lence of thy face is pleasant! Thou comest ting the country in the hour of peril hereaf- forth in lovliness. The stars attend thy blue ter? Did the battle of Thermopyla--pre-course in the east. The clouds rejoice in serve Greece but once? Whilst the Missis- thy presence, O moon. They brighten their sippi--continues to bear the tributes of the dark-brown sides. Who is like thee, in heavIron Mountains, and the Alleghenies--to her en, light of the silent night! The stars, in Delta, and to the Gulf of Mexico, the eighth thy presence, turn away their sparkling eyes. Whither dost thou retire from thy course, of January shall be remembered, and the glory of that day shall stimulate future patriots, Hast thou thy hall, like Ossian? when the darkness of thy countenance grows! and nerve the armis of unborn freemen, in thou in the shadow of grief! Have thy sis Dwellest driving the presumptuous invader from our ters fallen from heaven? Are they, who recountry's soil. joice with thee at night, no more? they have fallen, fair light! and thou dost oftBut thou thyself shalt fail, one night, and leave thy blue path in

Gentlemen may boast of their insensibility to feelings inspired by the contemplation of such events. But I would ask, does the recollection of Bunker's Hill, Saratoga, and Yorktown, afford no pleasure? Every act of noble sacritice of the country, every instance of patriotic devotion to her cause, has its beneficial influence. A nation's character is the sum of its splendid deeds; they constitute one common patrimony, the nation's inheritance. They awe foreign powers; they arouse and animate our own people. I love true glory. It is this sentiment which ought to be cherished; and, in spite of cavils, and speers, and attempts to put it down, it will rise triumphant, and finally conduct this nation to that height-to which nature, and nature's God-have destined it.-Clay.

598. THE FLIGHT OF XFRXES.

I saw him--on the battle-eve,
When, like a king, he bore him.-
Proud hosts, in glittering helm, and greave,
And prouder chiefs-before him:
The warrior, and the warrior's deeds--
BRONSON. 16

en retire to mourn.

heaven.

Yes!

Her sails were set, but the dying wind
Searce woord them, as they trembled on the yard
With an uncertain motion. She arose,
As a swan rises on her g Ided wings,
When on a lake, at sunset, she uprears
Her form from out the waveless stream, and steers
Into the far blue ether-so, that ship
Seem'd lifted from the waters, and suspended,
Wing'd with her bright sails, in the silent air.
For age, and want, serve-while you may;
No morning sun-lasts a whole day

604. AGAINST THE AMERICAN WAR.

1 cannot, my lords, I will not, join in congratulation on misfortune, and disgrace. This, my lords, is a perilous, and tremendous moment. It is not a time for adulation: the smoothness of flattery-cannot save us, in this rugged, and awful crisis. It is now necessary, to instruct the throne, in the language of truth. We must. if possible, dispel the delusion, and darkness, which envelop it; and display, in its full danger, and genuine colors, the ruin, which is brought to our doors. Can ministers, still presume to expect support, in their infatuation! Can parliament. be so dead to its dignity, and duty, as to give their support to measures, thus obtruded, and forced upon them! Measures, my lords, which have reduced this late flourishing empire-to scorn, and contempt! "But yesterday, and Britain might have stood against the world; me, none so poor, as to do her reverence. The people, whom we at first despised as rebels, but whom we now acknowledge as enemies, are abetted against us, supplied with every military store, have their interest consulted, and their embassadors entertained by our inveterate enemy-and ministers do not, and DARE not, interpose, with dignity, or ef fect. The desperate state of our army abroad, is in part known. No man more highly esteems, and honors the British troops, than I do; I know their virtues, and their valor; I know they can achieve anything, but impossibilities; and I know that the conquest of British America is an impossibility. You cannot, my lords, you cannot conquer America. What is your present situation there? We do not know the worst; but we know, that in three campaigns, we have done nothing, and suffered much. You may swell every expense, and accumulate every assistance, and extend your traffic to the shambles of every German despot: your attempts will be forever vain, and impotent-doubly so, indeed, from this mercenary aid, on which you rely; for it irritates, to an incurable resentment, the minds of your adversaries, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine, and plunder, devoting thein, and their possessions, to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. If I were an Americum, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down my arms; No-Never, never, never.-Chatham.

605. THE WHISKERS.

The kings, who rule mankind with haughty sway,
The prouder pope, whom even kings obey
Love, at whose shrine both popes, and monarchs
And e'en self-interest, that controls them all-
Possess a petty power, when all combined.
Compared with fashion's influence on mankind;
For love itself will oft to fashion Low;
The following story will convince you how:
A petit maitre wooed a fair.

Of virtue, wealth, and graces rare;
But vainly had preferr'd h's claim,
The maiden own'd no answering flame;
At length, by doubt and anguish torn,
Suspense, too painful to be borne,
Low at her feet he humbly kneel'd,
And thus his ardent flame reveal'd:
"Pity my grief, angelic fair,
Behold my anguish, and despair;
For you, this heart must ever burn-
O bless me, with a kind return;
My love, no language can express,
Reward it then, with happiness;

Nothing on earth, but you I prize,
All else is trifling in my eyes;
And cheerfully, would I res en
The wealth of worlds. to call you mine.
But, if another gam your hand,
Far distam from my native land,
Far hence, from you, and hope. I'll Ex,
And in some foreign region die."

The maiden heard, and thus replied:
If my consent to be your bride,
Will make you happy, then be blest;
But grant me, first one small request;
A sacrifice I must demand,
And, in return, will give my hand."
"A sacrifice! O speak its naine,
For you I'd forfeit wealth, and fame;
Take my whole fortune-every cent-

"Twas something more than wealth I meant
"Must I the realms of Neptune trace?
O speak the word-where'er the place,
For you. the idol of my soul.
I'd e'en explore the frozen pole;
Arabia's sandy desert tread.
Or trace the Tigris to its head."

"O no, dear sir. I do not ask.
So long a voyage, so hard a task;
You must-but ah! the boon I want,
I have no hope that you will grant."

Shall I. like Bonaparte, aspire
To be the world's imperial sire?
Express the wish, and here I vow,
To place a crown upon your brow."

"Sir. these are trifles"-she replied-
"But, if you wish me for your bride,
You must-but still I fear to speak-
You'll never grant the Loon I seek."

"O say!" he cried- dear angel say-
What must I do, and I obey;

No longer rack me with suspense,
Speak your commands, and send me hence."
"Well, then, dear generous youth!" she cries,
"If thus my heart you really prize,
And wish to link your fate with mine,
On one condition I am thine:
"Twill then become my pleasing duty,
To contemplate a husband's beauty;
And, gazing on his manly face,
His feelings, and his wishes trace;
To banish thence each mark of care,
And light a smile of pleasure there.
O let me then, is all I ask,
Commence at once the pleasing task;
O let me, as becomes my place.
Cut those huge whiskers from your face."
She said-but O, what strange surprise-
Was pietured in her lover's eyes!
Like lightning, from the ground he sprung,
While wild amazement tred his tongue;
A statue, motionless, he gazed,
Aston'sh'd, horror-struck, amazed
So, look'd the gallant Perseus, when
Medusa's visage met his ken;
So. look'd Macbeth. whose guilty eye
Discern'd an "a-drawn dagger" nigh;
And so, the prince of Denmark stared,
When first his father's ghost appeared.

At length, our hero, silence broke,
And thus, in wildest accents spoke:
Cut off my whiskers! O ye gods'
I'd sooner lose my ears. by odds;
Madam. I'd not be so disgraced,
So lost to fash on, and to taste,
To win an empress to my arms;

Though blest with more than inortal charm.
My whiskers! Zounds!" He said no more,
But quick retreated through the door,
And sought a less obdurate in.r.

To take the bear, with all his hair.-Woodworth

This path, you say, is hid in endless night;
Tis self concert, alene, cbstructs your right.

597. OSSILN'S ADDRESS TO THE SUN. 0] thou, that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers! whence are thy beams, O sun! thy everlasting light! Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty; the stars-hide themselves in the sky; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave. But thou, thyself, movest alone: who can be a companion of thy course? The oaks of the inountains fall; the mountains themselves decay with years: the ocean shrinks, and grows again; the moon, herself, is lost in the heavens; but thou-art forever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy course. When the world is dark with tempests, when thunders roll, and lightnings fly, thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian-thou lookest in vain; for he beholds thy beams no more; whether thy yellow hair-flows on the castern clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. But thou art, perhaps, like me, for a season: thy years will have an end. Thou wilt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice of the morning.

598. DOUGLAS'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.
My name is Norval: on the Grampian hills
My father feeds his flocks; a frugal swain,
Whose constant cares, were to increase his store,
And keep his only son, myself, at home.
For I had heard of battles, and I longed
To follow to the field-some warlike lord;
And Heaven soon granted--what my sire denied.
This moon which rose last night,round as my shield,
Had not yet filled her horn, when, by her light,
A band of fierce barbarians, from the hills,
Rushed like a torrent-down upon the vale,

599. OF ELOCUTION. Eloci tion-is tha art, or the act, of so delivering our own tho`ta and feelings, or the thoughts and feelings of others, as not only to convey to those around us, with precision, force, and harmony, the full purport, and meaning of the words and sentences, in which these thoughts are clothed; but also, to excite and to impress upon their minds the feelings, imaginations, and passions, by which those thoughts are dictated, or by which they should naturally be accompani ed. Elocution, therefore, in its more ample and liberal signification, is not confined to the mere exercise of the organs of speech. 1 embraces the whole theory and practice of the exterior demonstration of the inward workings of the mind. To concentrate what has been said by an allegorical recapitulation: Eloquence-may be considered as the soul, or animated principle of discourse; and is dependent on intellectual energy and intellectis the emboual attainments. Elocution dying form, or representative power; dependent on exterior accomplishments, and on the cultivation of the organs. Oratory-is the complicated and vital existence, resulting from the perfect harmony and combination of eloquence and elocution. The vital existence, however, in its full perfection, is one of the choicest rarities of nature. The high and splendid accomplishments of oratory, even in the most favored age and the most favored countries, have been attained by few; and many are the ages, and many are the countries, in which these accomplishments have never once appeared. Generations have succeeded to generations, and centuries have rolled after centuries, during which, the intellectual desert has not exhibited even one

Sweeping our flocks and herds. The shepherds fled solitary specimen of the stately growth and

For safety, and for succor. I, alone,

With bended bow, and quiver fuli of arrows,
Hovered about the enemy, and marked
The road he took then hasted to my friends,
Whom, with a troop of fifty chosen men,
I met advancing. The pursuit I led,

Till we o'ertook the spoil-encumbered foe. [drawn,
We fought, and conquered. Ere a sword was
An arrow from my Low-had pierced their chief,
Who wore, that day, the arms which now I wear.
Returning home in triumph, I disdained

The shepherd's slothful life; and having heard
That our good king-had summoned his bold peers
To lead their warriors to the Carron side,
I left my father's house, and took with me
A chosen servant to conduct my steps,--
You trembling coward, who forscok his master.
Journeying with this intent, I passed these towers,
And, heaven-directed, came this day to do
Tre happy deed, that gilds my humble name.

MORAL TRUTH INTELLIGIBLE TO ALL.

The shepherd lad, who, in the sunshine, carves
On the green turf a dial, to divide
The silent hours; and who, to that report,
Can portion out his pleasures, and adapt
His round of pastoral duties, is not left
With less intelligence, for moral things,
Of gravest import. Early, he perceives,
Within himself, a measure, and a rule,
Which, to the sun of truth, he can apply,
That shines for him, and shines for all mankind.

flourishing expansion of oratorical genius. The rarity of this occurrence is, undoubtedly, in part, to be accounted for, from the difficul ty of the attainment. The palm of oratorical perfection is only to be grasped--it is, in reality, only to be desired, by aspiring souls, and intellects of unusual energy. It requires a persevering toil which few would be contented to encounter; a decisive intrepidity of character, and an untamableness of mental ambition, which very, very few can be expected to possess. It requires, also conspicuous opportunities for cultivation and display, to which few can have the fortuna to be born, and which fewer still will have the hardihood to endeavor to create.

VIRTUE THE GUARDIAN OF YOUTH.

Down the smooth stream of life the striping darts,
Gay as the morn; bright glows the vernal sky,
Hope swells his sails, and Passion steers his course.
So glides his little bark along the shore,
Where virtue takes her stand: but if too far
He launches forth beyond discretion's mark,
Sudden the tempest scowls, the surges roar,
Blot his fair day, and plunge him in the deep.
" -My boy, the unwelcome hour is come,
When thou, transplanted from thy genial home,
Must find a colder soil, and bleaker air,
And trust for safety-to a stranger's care'
Deceit is the false road to happiness;
And all the joys we travel to, through vice,
Like fairy banquets, vanish when we touch them
See all, but man, with unearn'd pleasure gay.