[filled 659. SPEECH OF BELIAL, DISSUADING WAR. Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, POMPEII. How serenely slept the star-light on that lovely city! how breathles.dy its pillared streets reposed in their security! how softly rippled the dark, green waves beyond! how cloudless spread aloft and blue the dreaming Campanian skies! Yet this was the last night for the gay Pompeii! the colony of the hoar Chaldean! the fabled city of Hercules! the delight of the voluptuous Roman Age after age had rolled indestructive, unlceded, over its head; and now the last ray quivered on the dial plate of its doom! [door; 660. THE BEGGAR'S PETIT. N. Hard is the fate of the infirm, and poor! Here, as I crav'd | a morsel of their bread, O take me to your hospitable dome; . Keen blows the wind, and piercing is the cold! A little farm was my paternal lot; Then, like the lark, I sprightly hail'd the morn; Is cast, abandon'd, on the world's wide stage, And left the world | to wretchedness and me. 276 661. CATO'S SENATE. What course to take. Our foe advances on us, Sempronius. My voice is still for war. Rise, fathers, rise! 't's Rome demands your help; slow. Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal- Should we this lead them to a field of slaughter, Our vain at empts. To urge the foe to battle, Cato. Let us appear-por rash, nor diffident: And fear, admitted into public councils, Betrays-like treason. Let us shun 'em both. To sue for chains, and own a conqueror. It is written on the arched sky. It looks out from every star. It is on the sailing cloud, and in the invisible wind. It is among the hills and valleys of the earth-where the shru'less mountain-top-pierces the thin atmosphere of eternal winter-or where the mighty forest fluctuates, before the strong wind, with its dark waves of green foliage. It is spread out like a legible language, upon the broad face of the unsleeping ocean. It is the poetry of nature. It is this which uplifts the spirit within us, until it is strong enough to overlook the shadows of our place of probation; which breaks, link after link, the chain that binds us to materiality; and which opens to our imagination a world of spiritual beauty and holiness. PLAY-PLACE OF EARLY DAYS. The little ones, unbutton'd, glowing hot, insult; our supplications have een disregarded and we have been sparnel, with contempt from the loot of the throne, In va n. atter these things may we indulge the fond Lope of eace, and reconThere is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free; if we mena to preserve. in 663. PATRICK HENRY'S SPEECH. 1775. No man-thanks more highly than I do. of the patriotism, as well as the abilities. of the very, worthy gentlemen, who have just addressed the house. But. diferent men-olien see the same subject in different Eghts: an I therefore. I lose at will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen.triolate, those mest mable privileges, for which we if ent rta ning as I do opinions of a character; very opposite to the rs. I shoud speak forth my sentiments-ferly and without reserve. Thus, sir. is no time for ceremony. The ques on before the house s one of awful monent to this country. For my part. I consider tas nothing less than a question o freedom. or slavery: antan proportion to the magnitude of the subject, ought to be the freedom of debate. It is only in this way we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great respons bl ty which we hold to God and to our country. Were I to withhold my sent men's at such a me as this, through fear of giving offence. I should cons der myself as gu ́ity of treason toward my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, whom I revere above all earthly kings. It is natural for man-to indulge in the l'us ous of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and i sten-to the song of that syren. u', she transforms us—into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for LIBERTY? Are e disposed to be of the number of those, who huring eyes see not, and karing ears, hear not the things, which so nearly concern their temporal salvai on? For my part, whatever angu sh of spirit may cost. I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it. have been so long contending; at we mean not basely to abandon the no le struggle, in which we have been so long engaged, and wich wo have pledged ourselves, never to at anden, until the glorious of jeet of our contest shali ie o. tainedwe must fight! I repeat it!-s r. we must FIGHT! An appeal to arms, and to the Gop of hosts, is all that is left us. They tell us. s.r, that we are weak, txable to cope--with so form dable an adversary But then-shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be--when we are totally disarmel, and when a British guard shall Le stationed in every house? Shall we ge ther strength-by irresolution, and inaction? Shalt we acquire the means of effectual resistance, by iying supinely on our backs, and hugging the de Jus ve phantom of hope, unt lour enemies shall have bound us-hand-und foot? Sr. we are not weak. it we make a proper use of those means, which the God of nature hath placed in our power Three millions of people, armed-in the holy cause of LIBERTY, and such a country as that which ice possess, are invincible, by any force, which our enemy can send against us. Besides, s.r. we shall not fight our batiles alone. There is a just God.-who presides over the destinies of nations. and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong-alone; it is to the vigilant. the active, the BRAVE. Bes.des. sr. we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late-to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged. Their clanking-may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inerit able--and let it come!-1 repeat it, sir, let 1 COME. 664. AMERICA. I have but one lamp, by which my feet are guided; and thats the lamp-of EXPERIENCE. I know of no way of julg ng of the future but by the past. And, judging by the past. I wish to know what there has been, in the con tuet of the British m'n stry. for the last ten years. to justify those hopes, with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves, and the house? Is it It is vam. sir, to ertenuate the matter. Gentle that insidious smile, with which our petit on has men may cry--PEACE-PEACE-but there is NO been lately received? Trust 1 not. s r; it will prove peace. The war ́s actually begun! The next & RATE--10 your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be gale, that sweeps from the north will bring to our betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves-how this cars the clash of resound ng arms! Our brethren gracious reception of our pet tron--comports with are already in the field! Why stand we here idle! those warlike preparations, which cover our wa What is it. that gentlemen wish? what would they ters, and darken our land. Are fleets, and armies, have? Is life-so-dear, or peace-so sweet, as to necessary to a work of love, and reconciliation? be purchased-at the price of chains--and slavery? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be re- Forbid it-Almighty God.-I know not - what conciled. that force must be called in to win back | course others may take.--but, as for me, give me our love? Let us not deceive ourselves. sr. These | LIBERTY,-or give me-DEATH!" are the implements of war, and subjugation-the last arguments-10 which kings resort. I ask. Still one great clime, in full and free defiance, gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can Yet rears her crest, unconquer'd and sublime, gentlemen assign any other, possible motive for it? Above the fair Atlantic! she has taught Has Great Brian ang enemy in this quarter of Her Esau brethren that the haughty flag. the world, to call for all this accumulation of na-The floating fence of Albion's feebler crag. [bought ries. and armies? No sr. she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over-to bind, and rivet upon us, those chains, which the British min stry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sr, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything here to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in rain. Shall we resort to entreaty, and humble supplication? What terms shall we find, which have not been already exhausted? Let us not. I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir. we have done everything that could be done, to avert the storm. which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have IMPLORED its interposition--to arrest the tyrann cal hands of the ministry, and parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances-have produced additional violence and May strike to those whose red right hands have OF THE DREAD OF REFORM. The true and only reason, for not attempting a reform of the state of things is, that the interest of corruption-requires them to remain as they are. 665. JOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS. He, the young and strong, who cherished Noble longings for the strifeBy the road-side fell and perished, Weary with the march of life! They, the holy ones and weakly, Who the cross of suffering boreFolded their pale hands so meeklySpake with us on earth no more! And with them the being beauteous Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noisless footstep Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine; And she sits and gazes at me, With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies. Uttered not, yet comprehended, Is the spirit's voiceless prayer- Oh! though oft depressed and lonely, Such as these have lived and died! ciple. Instead of sweeping the globe, with In Mankind often complain, that they are un happy; that they tread in a thorny path, and drink of a bitter stream. But whence do Do they their sufferings, and sorrows flow? not, in a great measure, proceed from their own selfish, and malignant passions! Re move the cause, and the effect will disappear. Banish malice, envy, hatred; let genuine good-will towards each other prevail, and a great portion of human misery -- will fade away, like darkness--before the rising sun. It will dissipate the gloom, which often clouds the countenance, and remove the grief, which often preys upon the heart.-Fergus. 666. THE WAY TO BE HAPPY. All mankind are brethren. Every human being, who comes in our way, and stands in need of our aid, is entitled to our sympathy. Human nature, and distress, form a legitimate claim to our friendly assistance. We are not to withhold our brotherly affection, from any of our fellow men, because an imaginary line, a river, a ridge of mountains, or a channel of the ocean, may have separated their birth-place from ours; because their manners, customs, and political institutions are not the same with our own; because, by reason of difer-I ence of climate, and manner of life, their skin is tinged with a different color; because they offer their tribute of homage-to the Creator in a different manner; or, because there is some difference, or shade of differ. ence, between their religious rites, and opinions, and ours. The sentiment of universal benevolenceexpands the heart, humanizes the mind, and fosters every generous affection; but jealousy, malace, hatred, and other malignant passions-pervert the soul, and cramp, and vitiate-the best feelings of our nature. They wage war with every manly, and liberal prin EDUCATION. If thou hast plucked a flower Of richest, rarest ray, And borne it from its garden bower, That glittering hoard of worth untold There is a plant that fears No adverse season's strife, But with an inborn fragrance cheers There is a wealth that foils The robber's roving eye, The guerdon of the mind that toi's ye, whose brows are bright, Seek wisdom's lore sublime, THE LAND OF REST. Oh, when-shall I go to that land Where spirits-beatified dwell? And bid to this earth-a farewell? am weary of life-and its care, I am weary of life and its woe, To that country unknown, shall I go? [ther Of that land, which I long to behold; And like angels they pass the sweet hours; Face to face the truth comes out 667. THE PERFECT ORATOR. Imagine to yourselves-a Demosthenes, addressing the most illustrious assembly in the world, upon a point, whereon the fate of the most illustrius of nations depended. How awful such a meeting! how vast the subject! By the power of his eloquence, the augustness of the assembly is lost-in the dignity of the orator; and the importance of the subject, for a while, superseded by the admiration of his talents. With what strength of argument, with what powers of the fancy, with what emotions of the heart, does he assault, and subjugate, the whole man; and, at once, captivate his reason, his imagination, and his passions! To effect this, inust be the utmost effort of the most improved state of human nature. Not a faculty that he possesses, but is here exerted to its highest pitch. All his internal powers are at work; all his external, testify their energies. [winds, 669. TIME-NEW YEAR. The spirits of the seasons-seem to stand, [form, Gone-from the earth-forever. Tis a time Within, the memory, the fancy, the judg ment, the passions, are all busy; without, For memory, and tears. Within the deep, every muscle, every nerve is exerted; not a Still chambers of the heart, a spectre dim, feature, not a limb, but speaks. The organs Whose tones-are like the wizard's voice of Time, of the body, attuned to the exertions of the Heard from the tomb of ages, points its coldmind, thro' the kindred organs of the hearers, And solemn finger-to the beautiful instantaneously vibrate those energies--from soul to soul. Notwithstanding the diversity And holy visions, that have passed away, of minds, in such a multitude, by the light-And left no shadow of their loveliness, ning of eloquence, they are melted into one mass; the whole assembly, actuated in one and the same way, become, as it were, but one man, and have but one voice. The universal cry is-Let us march against Philip, let us tight for our liberties--let us conquer, or die. 668. WIFE, CHILDREN, AND FRIENDS. In vain surly Pluto declared he was cheated, And justice divine could not compass her ends, How blest was his home, with wife, children, and friends. But drear is the twilight of age, if it borrow No warmth from the smiles of wife, children and friends. Let the breath of renown ever freshen and nourish The laurel that o'er her fair favorites bends, O'er me wave the willow, and bag may it flourish, Bedew'd with the tears of wife, children, and friends Friendship is constant in all other things, Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues. Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent: for beauty is a witch, Against whose charins faith melteth into blood. On the dead waste of life. That spectre-lifts Has gone, and, with it, many a glorious throng Looking into the fire is very injurious to the eyes, particularly a coal fire. The stimulus of light and heat united, soon destroys the eyes. Looking at molten iron will soon destroy the sight. Reading in the twilight is injurious to the eyes, as they are obliged to make great exertion. Reading or sewing with a side light, injures the eyes, as both eyes should be exposed to an equal degree of light. The reason is, the sympathy between the eyes is so great, that if the pupil of one is dilated by being kept partially in the shade, the one that is most exposed cannot contract itself sufl'ciently for protection, and will ultimately be injured. Those who wish to preserve their sight, should preserve their general health by correct habits, and give their eyes just work enough, with a due degree of light." |