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A fever-scorche! my body, firel my brain!
Like lava, in Vesuvius, holdiny loni,
Within the glowinz caverns of ny heart
I raged with thirst, an i bezget a call, clear draught
Of Guntaia wiet --'Twas with tears, denied.
Idrak a wause aus febrifure, and slept;
But resled pot-harassol with horrid dreams,
Of burning desert, and cf dusty plains,
Mountais, during tams-forus's on fire,
Steum, sunshine, Munk?, and boiling likes-
Hiilla of hot sun!, aut loving st nes, that seemed
Embers, and ashes, of a burat up world!

Thirst macet within me.-I sought the deepest vale,
And called on all the rocks, ant caves for water ;-
I climbed a mountain, an! from clidioclul,
Pursued a flying cloud, houding for water :-
I crushe the wither herts, ad quawed dry roots,
Sull crying, Water! water! - While the clits and caves,
In horril rockery, re-echoed "Water!"
Below the nountain, st amel a city, rel
With solar flame, upon the sun ly lank
or a trou river.--"Soon, ob son!" I criel,
"I'll cool my tumia lody in that food,
And quatl may fill."--Iran--I reached the shore. -
The river was dried up. Its oozy bel
Was dust, and on its aril rocks, I saw
The scaly myriads-fry bencath the sun!
Where surk the claun-l de pest, I behold
A stirring multitude of human forms,
Ani hearl a faint, wild, lamentable wail.
Thither I spel, and joined the general cry
or_* water!" They had delved a spacious pit,
In search of hillen fountains--sal, sad sight!
I saw them rent the rocks up in their rage
With mal inpatience, calling on the earth
To open, and yicht up ber cooling fountains.

Meanwhile the skies, on which they dared not gaze,
Stool o'er them like a canopy of brass-
Vodimined by moisture. The red dog-star raged,
And Phætus, from the house of Virg, shot
His scorch in sluts. The thirsty multitude
Grew still more frantic, Three, w bo dug the earth,
Fell lifeless on the rocks, they strained to upheave,
Ani filled again, with their own carcasses,
The pits they made-undoing their own work!
Despair, at length, drove out the laborers,
At sight of whom, 1 general groun--announced
The death of hope. Ah! now, no more was beard
The cry of “water!" To the city next,
Howling, we ran-all hurrying without aim :-
Theoce to the wonds. The laked plain gaped for moisture,
And from its arid breast beaved smoke, that seemed
The breath of furnace-fierce, solcanic fire,
Or hot monsoon, that raises Syrian sands
To clouds. Amid the forests, we espied
A faint, and beatug hert. Sudden, a shrill,
Au horrid strout arus Biotr blod blood!”
We tell wrote thu with the user's thirst,
Ani drank up all the blood, that was not human!
We were dve! in lod! Despair returned;
The cry of bad was hushu, ani dumb confusion reigned.
Eren then, shen hope was deal-past hope-
I heard a laugh! ani saw a wretched man
Rip hwn veins, and, bleeding, drink
With ea ter joy. The exampie seized on all :-
Fach fell upon himself, tearing his veins.
Fiercely, in search of blood! And sone there we
Who, having emptied their own reins, dil size
Upon their neighbor's arms, and slew them for their blood-
Oh! lappy then, were mothers, who gave suck.
They dashed their little infants from their breasts,
And their shrunk bosoms tortured, to extract
The talmy juice, oh! exquisitely sweet
To their parchel tongues! 'Tis done!-now all is gone!
Blool, water, and the boom's nectar, all!

"Ren!, oh! ye lightning! the sealed firmament,
And find a burning workl.--Rain rain! pour! pour!
Open--ye windows of high heaven! anl pour
The mighty deluge Let us drywe, and drink


Luxurious death! Ye earthquakes, split the globe,
The silil, rich-ribbed glole ant hy all lare
Its subterranean rivers, and fresh stas!"

Thus rogol the multitude. Ani many fell
In fieree courulsions ;

-any slew themselves
And now, aw the city all in tunt
The forest burning-and the very carb on fire!
I saw the mountajas open with a rar,
Low as the seven apocalyptic thinler,
And sexs of lasa rolling hea 'long down,
Through crackling forests fuce, and hot as hell,
Down to the plain-I turned to fly, and waked --Ha nga

641. NOSE AND THE MAX. Kind friends, at your call, I'm coine here to sing :

Or rather to talk of my woes;
Though small's the delight to you I can bring

The subject's concerning my nose.
Some noses are large, and oihers are small,

For nature's vagaries are such,
To sone folks, I'm told, she gives no nose at all,
But to me she has given too much.

Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me! My cause of complaini, and the worst of my woes, Is, because I have got such a slocking long nose. Some insult or other, each day I do meet,

And by joking, my friends are all foes; And the boys every day, as I go thro' the street,

All bellow out—" There goes a nose!" A woman, with matches one day, I came near,

Who, just as I tried to get by her,
Shoved me rudely aside, and ask'd, with a leer,
If I wanted to set her o fire?

Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me!
Each rascal, each day, some inuendo throws,
As, my nose is n't mine, I belongs to my nose.
I once went a courting a wealthy old maid,

To be married we were, the next day;
But an accident happened, the marriage delay 2,

My nose got too much in the way. For the night before marriage, entranc'd with my

In love, e'er some torment occurs (blies I screw'd up my lips, just to give her a kiss, My nose slipp'd, and rubb'd against her's !

Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me! The ring that I gave, at my head soon she throws. And another tipp'd me, 'twas a w-ring on the nose. Like a porter all day, with fatigue fit to crack,

I'm seeking for rest, at each place, Or, like pilgrim of old. with his load at his back,

Only my load I bear on my face. I can't get a wife, though each hour hard I iry,

The girls they all blush, like a rose; "I'm afraid to hare you!" when I ask 'em for why? Because you have got such a nose.

Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me! Their cause of refusal I cannot surpose, They all like the man, but they say-blow his nose! Like a large joint of meal, before a small fire,

They say that my proboscis hangaOr, to a brass knocker, nought there can be nighed

And in length, it a pump-handle bangs. A wog, you must know, just by way of a wipe,

Said, with a grin on his free, t'other night, As he, from his pocket, was pulling a pipe, “At your nose will you give me a

Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me! If I ask any one my way to disclose, If I lose it--they answer, why, follow your noss.

642. NORILITY OF LABOR. Why, in the 613. DAVID'S LAMENT OVER ABSALOM. great scale of things, is labor ordained for us?

The king--stood still, Easily, had it so pleased the great ordainer, till the last echo-died: then, throwing off mighi it have been dispensed with. The world itself, might have been a mighty ma

The sack-cloth- from his vrow, and laying back chinery, for producing all that min wants. The pall -- from the sull features of his child, Houses might have risen like an exhalation, lle bowed his head upon him, and broke forth “ With the sound

In the resistless eloyuence of woe :-
Of dulcet symphonies, and voices sweet,
Built like a temple.'

" Alas! iny noble boy! that thou shoulds die! Gorgeous furniture might have been placed

Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair! in them, and soft couches and luxurious ban. That death-shwuld setile-in thy glorious eye, quets spread, by hands unseen; and man, And leave his stillness in this clustering ha r! clothed with tábrics of nature's weavin., How could be mark thee--for the silent lomb, rather than with imperial purple, might have been sent to disport himself in those Elysian Coli is thy brow, my son! and I am chi.II,

My proud boy, Absalom! palaces.

“ Fair scene!" I imagine you are saying: As to my bosoin--I have tried to press thee. “fortunate for us had it been the scene or- How was I wont-lo feel my pulses thril, d'uned for human life!” But where, then, Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, had been human energy, perseverance, pa. And hear thy father,' from these tience, virtue, heroism ? Cut off labor with one blow, from the world, and mankind had

And cold lips, Absalom!

(dumb, sunk to a crowd of Asiatic voluptuaries. The grave latlı won thee. I shall hear the gush

No-it had not been fortunate! Better, or music, and the voices of the young; tint the earth be given to man as a dark mass, and life will pass me--in the mantling biush, wiiereupon to labor. Better, that rude, and un

And the dark tressés--to the soil winds fungi sightly inateriais be provided in the ore-bed, and in the forest, for him to fushion in splen- But thou-no more, with thy sweet voice, shall dor and beauty. Better I say, not because

To meet me, Absalom!

(come of that splendor, and beauty, but, because But, oh! when I am stricken, and my heart, the act of creating them, is better than the

Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, things themselves; because exertion is nobler

How will its lore for thee, as I depari, (token! Chan enjoyment; because the laborer is greater and inore worthy of' honor, than the idler.

Yearn for thine ear-lo drink its last-deep I call upon those whom I address, to stand It were so swee:, amid death's gathering gloom, up for the nobility of labor. It is heaven's So see thee, Absalom! great ordinance for human improvement. And now-farewell! 'Tis hard--to give thee up, Let not the great ordinance be broken dow).

With death-so like a gentle slumber on the. What do I say? It is broken down; and it has been broken down for ages. Let it then And thy dark sin !-oh! I could drink the cup, be built again; here, if any where, on the

If, from this wo, its bitterness had won thee. shores of a new world-of a new civilization. May God have called thee, like a wanderer, But how, it inay be asked, is it broken

My erring Absalom ?"

(home, down? Do not men toil? it may be said. He covered up his face, and bowed himself, They do indeed toil, but they too generally A moinent, on his child; then, giving him do, because they must. Many submit to it, as in some sort, a dezrading necessity; and look of melting tenderness, he clasped they desire nothing so much on earth, as an His hands, convulsively, as if in prayer; escape from it.

They fulfil the great law of And, as a strength were given himn of God, labor in the letter, but break it in the spirit. He rose up, calmly, and composed the pill, To some field of labor, mental or manual, Firmly, and decently, and left hin there,-every idler should hasten, as a chosen, covet- As if his rest-had been a breathing sleep. Willto. ed field of improvement.

But so he is not compelled to do, under the The theatre was from the very first, teachings of our imperfect civilization. On The favorite haunt of sin ; though honest men, the contrary, he sits down, folds his hands, and blesses himself in idleness. This way of some very honest, wise and worthy men, thinkink, is the heritage of the absurd and Maintained it might be turned 10 good account: unjust feudal system, under which sert's la- | And so perhaps it might, but never was. bored and senilemen spent their lives in tight- From first-o inst--it was an evii place : ing and feasting. It is time that this oppro- And row—such things were acted there as made brium of tuil were done away.

The devils blush: and, from the neighborhood, Ashamed to toil? Ashamed of thy dingy work-shop, and dusty labor-tield; of thy harit Angels, and holy men, trembling, retired : hand, scarred with service more honorable And what with dreadfw aggravation- crowded than that of war; of thy soiled and weather. This drary time, was-sin against the light. stained garments, on which mother nature bias All men knew God, and, hnowing disobeyed; embroidered mist, sun and rain, fire and steam, And gloried to insult him--to his face. her own heraldic honors? Ashamed of those tokens, and titles, and envious of the tlaunts | Look round-thie habitable world how rew-ing roles of imbecile idleness, and vanity ? Know their own good, or knowing 1, pursue ! It is treason to nature, it is impiety to heaven; "Tis a'l men's office-to sprak patienie-it is breaking heaven's great ordinance. Toil, To those that toil-undir a load of sorus. I repeat-wl, either of the brain, of the heart, or of the land, is the only true manhood," "This the first sanction-nature-gave to man, the only true nobility!- Dewey.

Each other to assist, in what they can


615. MAID OF MALA LIIDE. He fell in an attack upon the Turkish camp at Laspi, the

In the church of Malahide, in Ireland, are the tomb and eflagg date of the ancient Platea, August 20, 1823, and expired in the no. of the Lady Maid Plunkett, sister of the first Lord Dunsanny, a ment of victory. His last words were-“To die for liberty, is a

whom it is recorded that she was maid, wife, and widow in one pleasure, and not a pain."

day." Her first husband, Hussy, Baron of Galtrim, was called

from the altar to bead "a hosting of the English against the At midnight,-in his guarded tent,

Irish," and was brought back to the bridal banquet a corpse, spor The 'Turk-was dreaming of the hour,

the shields of his followers. When Greece,-her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble--at his power.

The dark-eyed Maid-of Malahide, In dreams, through camp-and court, he bore

Her silken bodice laced, 'The trophies of a conqueror;

And on her brow,—with virgin pride,
In dreams, his song of triumph heard;

The bridal chaplet-placed.
Then, wore his monarch's siguiet ring:
Then, pressed that monarchi's tirone,-a king;

Her heart--is beating high, lier cheek
As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing,

Is flushed-with rosy shame, As Eden's garden bırd.

As laughing bridemaids-slily speak, At midnight in the forest shades.

The gallant bridegroom's name. Bozzarris-ranged his Sulote band,

The dark-eyed Maid-of Malahide-
True-as the steel-of their tried blades,

Before the allar-stands,
Heroes--in heart--and land.
There, had the Persian's thousands stood,

And Galtrim-claims his blushing bride, There, hol toe glad earu-drunk their blood,

From pure-and holy hands :-On old Platea's day;

But hark! what learful sounds are those ? And now, there breathed that haunted air,

“To arms! to arins!" they cry; The sous--of sires, who conquered there, With ann–10 strike, and soul-10 dare,

The bride's sweet cheek-no longer glows, As quick, as far as they.

Fear--sits in that young eye. An hour passed on--the Turk-awoke

The gallants--all are mustering nowTha: bright dream-was his last ;

The bridegroom's helm-is on: He woke-to bear his sentries shriek,

One look,-upon that wretched brow: "To arms! they come' the Greek! the Greek!"

One kiss,- and he is gone ;--
He woke-o die, 'midst flame, and smoke,
And shoul, and groan, and sabre stroke,

The feast is spread.—but many a knight, And death-shots-falling thick and fast

Who should have graced that halAs lightings, from the mountain cloud;

Will sleep-anon, in cold moonlight,
And hear, with voice, as trumpet loud,

Beneath-a gory pall.
Bozzarris--cheer his band :
Strike! till the last armed foe expires;

The garlandsbright with rainbow dyes, Strike! for your altars, and your fires;

In gay festoons-are hung; Strike! for ile green graves of your sires;

The starry lamps--out-shine the skies, God--and your native land!"

The golden harps are strung:
They fought, like brave men, long and well;

But she-the moving spring of all,
They piled that ground--with Moslem slain; Hath sympathy-with none
They conquered-but. Bozzarris fell,
Bleeding--at every vein.

That meet in that old festive hall ;llis few surviving comrades saw

And now-the feast's begun. His sile, when rang the proud-hurrah!

Hark! to the clang of arms! is 't he,
And the red field was won;

The bridegroom chief,- returned, -
Then saw, in death, his eyelids close
Calmiy, as 10 a night's repose,

Crowned with the wreath of victory
Like flowers-at set of sun.

By his good weapon-earned ? Come 10 the bridal chamber,-Death:

Victorious bands—indeed-returnCoine to the mother, when she feels,

But, on their shields--they bear For the first time, her first-born's breath;

The laurelled chief-and melt--those sters Coine-when the blessed seals,

At that young bride's despair.
That close the pesulence, are broke,
And crowded cities--wail its stroke;

" Take-ake-the roses from my brow, Come-in consumption's ghasily form,

The jewels-from my waist; l'he earthquake shock, the ocean storm;

I have no need--of such things now :"
Come, when the heart beats high, and warm,

And then--ber check--she placed-
With banquei-song, and dance, and wine--
And thou art terrible! the lear,

Close--lo his dead-cold cheek, and wept,The groan, the knell. the rall, the bier,

As one may wildly weep, And all we know,--or dream, or fear,

When the last hope,--the heart had kepi, Of agony:-are thine.

Lies buried--in the deep. But to the hero, when liis sword

Long years have passed, --since that young Has won the battle for the free,

Bewailed-her widowed doom: [bride Thy voice-sounds like a prophet's word,

The holy walls--of Malahide-
And, in its hollow tones, are heard-
The thanks of millions--yet to be.

Sull-shrine her marble tomb :-
Bozzarr's! with the storied brave,

And sculpture there-has sought to prove, Greece nurtured in her glory's time,

With rude essay--of art, Rest thee-there is no prouder grave,

That form-she wore in life,--whose loveEven in her own proud clime. We tell thy doom- without a sigh;

Did grace--her woman's heart.--Crawford. For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's

The influence of example - is a terrible One of the few, the minorial names,

responsibility-on the shoulders of every inThat were noi boru-10 dic.-Halleck. dividual.

646. AARON Bunn AND BLENNERHAS- | and the seductive, and fascinating power of SETT. Who, then, is Aaron Buit, and what his address. The conquest was not a difti. the part which he has borne in this transac-cult one. Innocence' is ever simple, and tion!

He is its author; its projector; its ac- credulous; conscious of no desirn Itseli, it tive executor. Bold, ardent, restless, and as suspects none in others; it wears no guards pirin his brain conceived it; his hand betöre its breast: every door, and portal, and bronht it into action. Bezinning bis opera- avenue of the heart is thrown open, and all, tuns in New York, he associates with bim, who choose it, enter. Such, was the state of men, whose wealth is to supply the neces- Eden, when the serpent entered its bowers sary funds. Possessed of the mainspring, The prisoner, in a more engaging form, u ind. his personal labor contrives all the machine ing himself into the open and unpracticed ry: Pervading the continent from New-York heart of the unfortunate Blennerharsett, found to New Orleans, he draws into his plan, by but little difficulty, in changing the native every allurement which he can contrive, inen character of that heart, and the objects of its of all rankis, and all descriptions. To youth- antection. By degrees, he infusez into it the tul ardor he presents danger and glory; to poison of his own ambition; he breathes into ambition, rauk, and titles, and honors; to av. it the tire of his own courage; a daring and des arice, the mines of Mexico. To each person perate thirst for glory; an ardor, panting for whoin he addresses, he presents the object all the storm, and bustle, and hurricane or life, adapted to his taste: his recruiting officers are in a short time, the whole man is changed, appointed; men are engaged throughout the and every ohjeet of his foriner delight relin. continent: civil life is indeed quiet upon the quished. No more he enjoys the tranquil surface; but in its bosom this man has con- scene; it has become flat, and insipid to his trived to deposit the materials, which, with taste; his books are abandoned; huis retort, the slighest touch of his match, produces an and crucible, are thrown aside; bis shrubbery explosion, to shake the continent. All this in vain blooms, and breathes its fragrance uphis restless ambition has contrived; and, in on the air-he likes it not; his ear no longer the autumn of 1806, he goes forth, for the last drinks the rich melody of music; it longs for time, to apply this match. On this excur- the trumpet's clangor, and the cannou's roar; sion he meets with Blennerhassett.

even the prattle of luis babes, once so sweet, Who is Blenncrhassett? A native of Ire- no longer aflects him; and the angel smile of land, a man of letters, who fled from the his wife, which hitherto touched his bosom stormsoflis own country to find quiet in ours. with ecstasy so unspeakable, is now untelt His history shews, that war is not the natu- and unseen. Greater objects have taken pos. ral element of his mind; if it had been, he session of his soul-his imagination has been would never have exchanged Ireland for dazzled by visions of diadems, and stars, and America. So far is an army from furnishing garters, and titles of nobility: he has been the society, natural and proper to Mr. Blen- taught to burn with restless emulation at the nerhasseti's character, that on his arrival in names of Cromwell, Cesar, and Bonaparte. America, he retired, even from the popula- His enchanted island is destined soon io rotion of the 1tlantic states, and sought quiet, lapse into a desert; and, in a few months, and solitude, in the bosom of our western for- we find the tender, and beautiful partner of ests. But be carried with him taste, and sci- his bosom, whom he lately “ permitted not ence, and wealth; and “ lo, the desert smiled."' the winds of” summer" to visit too roughly,' l'ossessing himself of a beautiful island in we find her shivering, at midnight, on the the Ohio, he rears upon it a palace, and dec. winter banks of the Ohio, and mingling her orates it with every romantic embellishment tears with the torrents, that froze as they fell. of fancy. A shrubbery, that Shenstone might Yet, this unfortunate man, thus deluded from have envied blooms around him; music that his interest, and his happiness-thus seduced might have charmed Calypso and her nymphs, from the paths of imocence, and peace-thus is his; an extensive library spreads its treas- confounded in the toils, which were deliberures before him; a philosophical apparatus ately spread for him, and perihelmed by ofers to him all the secreis, and mysteries of the inastering spirit, and genius of anothernature; peace, tranquillity, and innocence this man, thus ruined, and undone, and made shed their mingled delights around him; and, to play a subordinate part in this grand drama to crown the enchantment of the scene, a of quilt and treason-this man is to be called wife, who is said to be lovely even beyond the principal offender; while he, by whom he her sex, and graced with every accomplishe was thus plunged, and steeped in misery, is ment, that can render it irresistible, had bles, comparatively innocent-a mere accessory. fed him with her love, and made him the Sir, neither the human heart, nor the human fither of her children. The eritonce would understanding will bear a perversion so mone convince you, that this is but a faint picture strous, and absurd; so shocking to the soul, of the real life.

so revolting to reason. O! no sir. There is In the midst of all this peace, this inno- ne man who knows anything of this attair, cence, and this tranquillity, this feast of the who does not know that to every body conmind, this pure banquet of the heart-the cerned in it, Aaron Burr was as ihe sun to destroyer comes-he comes to turn this par- i the planets, which surround him; he bound adise-into a hell--yet the flowers do not them in their respective orbits, and gave then wither at his approach, and no monitory their light, their heat, and their motion. Let shuddering, through the bosom of their un- him not then slink-from the bigh destinafortunate possessor, warns him of the ruin, tion, which he has courted; and having althat is coming upon him. A stranger presents really ruined Blennerhassett in fortune, charhimself. Introduced to their civilities, by the acter, and happiness, forerer, attempt to fin, high rank which he had lately held in his ish the trazedy, by Thrusting that ill-fated country, he soon finds liis way to their hearts, man between himséif and punishment. by the dignity, and elegance of his demcan. The royal her, qucell--of the rosy bower. or, the light and beauty of his conversation, Collects her precious sweets-rom every flower,

647. TALENTS ALWAYS unavailins, as would a human effort “to Talents, whenever they have had a suitable quench the stars."'-/list. theatre, have never failed to emerge from ob

648. RICH AND POOR MAN. scurity, and assume their proper rank in the estimation of the world. The jealous pride So goes the world ;-— if wealthy, you may call of power inay attempt to repress, and crush This, friend, thai, brother; friends and brothers all; thein; the base, and inalignant rancor of im- Tho you are worthless--witless-never mind i potent spleen, and envy--may strive to em- You may have been a stable-boy-whai then? Harrasz and retard their flight: but these ef- 'Tis wealth, good sir, makes honorable inen. forts, so fu from achieving their ignoble pur- You seek respect, no doubt, and you wil irid it pose, so far from producing a discernible obl'quity, in the ascent of genuine, and vigorous But

, if you are poor, heaven help you! tno jour talents, will serve only to increase their mo- Had royal blood within him, and tho' you eiro mentum, and mark their transit, with an ad-Possess the intellect or angels, 100, ditional stream of glory.

"Tis all in van:--ihe world will ne'er inquire When the creat earl of Chatham-first made on such a score :- Why should it take the pains ! his appearance in the house of commons, and

'Tis easier to weigh purses, sure, than brains. began to astonish, and transport the Pritish parliament, and the British nation, by the I once saw a poor fellow, keen, and clever, boldness, the force, and range of his thoughts, Witty, and wise :-he paid a man a visi, and the celestial tire, and pathos of his elo And no one noticed him, and no one ever [is it?" quence, it is well known, that the minister, Gave him a welcome. "Strange;" cried I, “Whenco Walpole, and his brother Horace, from mo

Ile walked on this side, then on that, tives very easily understood, exerted all their wit, all their oratory, all their acquirements

He tried to introduce a social chat; of every description, sustained and enforced Now here, now there, in vain lie tried; by the unfeeling insolence of office,” to heave Some formally and freezingly replied, and somo a mountain on his gigantic genius, and hide it Said, by their silence-"Better stay at home." from the world. Poor and powerless attempt! A rich man burst the door, The tables were turned. He rose upon them,

As Cræsus rich; I'm sure in the might, and irresistible energy of his nius, and, in spite of all their convulsions, He could not pride himself upon his wit, frantic agonies, and spasms, he strangled And as for wisdom, he had none of it; them, and their whole faction, with as much He had what's better ;-he had wealth. case as Hercules did the serpent Python. What a confusion !--all stand up erect

Who can turn over the delates of the day, These-crowd around 10 ask him of his health; and read the account of this contlict between

These-bow in honest duty, and respect; youthful ardor, and hoary-leaded cunning, and power, without kindling in the cause of

And these--arrange a soja or a chair, the tyro, and shouting at his victory? That And these-conduct him there. they should have attempted to pass off the "Allow me, sir, the lionor ;”—Then a bowbrand, yet solid and judicious operations of a Down to the earth-s't possible to show mind like his, as being mere theatrical start Meet gratitude—ior such kind condescension !and emotion; the giddy, bair-brained eccentricities of a romantic boy! That they should

The poor man--hug his head, have had the presumption to suppose them

And, to himself, he said, selves capable of chaining down, to the floor “This is indeed, beyond my comprehension :" of the parliament, a genius so etherial, tower Then looking round, ing and sublime, seems unaccountable! Why

One friendly face he foundi, did they not, in the next breath, by way of

And said, “ Pray tell me why is renlth preferred, crowning the climax of vanity, bid the magnificent tire-ball to descend from its cxalted, and To wisdom?"_" That's a silly question. friend!" appropriate region, and perform its splendid Replied the others have you never heard, tour along the surface of the earth?

A mai may lend his store Talents, which are before the public, have Oi gold, or silver ore, nothing to dread, either from the jealous pride Bat wisdom-10ne can borrow, none can lend?" of power, or from the transient misrepresenta

THE ABUSE OF AUTIIORITY. tions of party, spleen, or envy. In spite of opposition from any case, their buoyant spir

0, it is excellent it will lift them to their proper grade. The Tc have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous man who comes fairly before the world, and To use it like a giant. sho possesses the great, and vigorous stami- Could great men thunder

which entitle him to a niche in the temple As Jove hinsell does, Jove would ne'er be quiet : of glory, has no reason to dread the ultimate For every pelung, petty officer, result; lowever slow his progress may be, he

(thunder. will, in the end, most indubitably receive that

Would use his heaven for thunder, nothing but distinction. While the rest," the swallows of Merciful heaven! science," the butterflies of genius, may lutter Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, for their spring; but they will soon pass Split the unwedgeable ond gnarled oak. away, and be remembered no more. No en- Than the soft myrtle.--0, but man, proud man, torprising man, therefore, and least of all, the Drest in a lite bref authority; truly great man, has reason to droop, or re- Most ignorant of what he's mosi assurd, pine, at uliyetlorts, which he may suppose to be made, with the view to depress him. Let,

His glassy essence,-like an angry ape, then, the tempest of envy, or of malice bowl Plays such fontastic tricks before high heaven around him. His genius will consecrate him; As make the angels weep; wo, with our spleens, und any attempt to extinguish that, will be I would all the insolves laugh mortal. --- Shahspare,



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