The noiseless tide of time, all bearing down to vast eternity's unbounded sea, he stemm'd alone; and to the source (involv'd deep in primeval gloom) ascending, rais’d his vivid lights to pilot home the deep kiftorian, wilder'd in his darksome way.

But who can number up his labours? who his high discoveries sing? When but few of the deep-studying race can stretch their minds to what he knew : in fancy's lighter thought, How shall the muse then grasp the mighty theme ?

THOMSON.

SECT. SECT. LXIII.

ON LIBERTY.

My soul is sick with ev'ry day's report
of wrong and outrage with which earth is fillid,
There is no yielding flesh in man's hard heart,
it does not feel for man. The nat'ral bond
of brotherhood is fever'd as the fax
that falls alunder at the touch of fire.
He finds his fellow guilty of a skin
not colour' like his own; and having pow'r
t'inforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause
dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
Thus man devotes his brother;
and worse than all, and most to be deplor'd,
as human nature's broadest, foulest blot,
chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat
with stripes, that mercy with a bleeding heart
weeps when the sees inflicted on a beast.
Then what is man? And what man seeing this,
and having human feelings, does not blush
and hang his head, to think himself a man
I would not have a flave to till my ground,
to carry me, to fan me while I sleep,
and tremble when I wake, for all the wealth
that sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
No: dear as freedom is, and in my heart's
juft estimation priz'd above all price,
I had much rather be myself the Nave,
and wear the bonds, than faften them on him.
We have no Naves at home, then why abroad?

and

and they themselves, once ferried o'er the wave
that parts us, are emancipate and loos’d.
Slaves cannot breathe in ENGLAND; if their lungs
receive our air, that moment they are free;
they touch our country, and their shackles falt:
That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud
and jcalous of the blessing. Spread it then,
and let it circulate through ev'ry vein
of all your empire, that where BRITAIN's power
is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too.

COWPER.

O Liberty, thou goddess heav'nly bright, profuse of bliss, and pregnant with delight! Eternal pleasure in thy presence reign, and smiling plenty leads thy wanton train ; eas'd of her load subjection grows more light, and poverty looks cheerful in thy fight; thou mak'st the gloomy face of nature gay, giv'st beauty to the sun, and pleasure to the day. Thee, goddess, thee BRITANNIA's isle adores ; how has she oft exhausted all her stores, how oft, in fields of death, thy presence sought, por thinks the mighty prize loo dearly bought !

On foreign mountains, let the sun refine the grape's fost juice, and mellow it to wine ; with citron groves adorn a distant soil; and the fat olive (well with floods of oil : we envy not the warmer clime, that lies in ten degrees of more indulgent skies, nor at the coarseness of our heav'n repine, though o'er our heads the frozen pleiads shine ; 'tis Liberty that crown's BRITANNIA's isle, that makes her barren rocks and bleakest mountains (mile.

ADDISON.

SECT. SECT. LXIV.

OF PATRIOTISM.

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.

Dear is the tie that links the anxious sire
to the fond babe that prattles round his fire;
dear is the love that prompts the generous youth,
his fire's fond cares and drooping age to sooth ;
dear is the brother, sister, husband, wife,
dear all the charities of social life :-
But not th' endearing springs that fondly move
to filial duty or parental love;
nor all the ties that kindred bosoms bind,
nor all the friendship’s holy wreaths entwin'd,
are half so dear, so potent to controul
the generous workings of the patriot foul,
as is that holy voice that cancels all
those ties, that bids him for his country fall.
At this high summons with undaunted zeal
he barés his breast; invites the impending steel:
smiles at the hand that deals the fatal blow,
nor heaves one figh for all he leaves below.

WHEN EDWARD the Third, disappointed of the throne of France by the brave resistance of the gartison of Calais, resolved to take revenge, and demanded fix of the principal inhabitants of that place, to be led to him with halters about their necks, as a due atonement for

the

VOL. IV.

the crime of resistance to their lawful sovereign, as he chose to style himself, the governor EustacE SAINT Pierre first of all voluntarily and cheerfully gave himself up as a ransom for the city, and “ I doubt not,” says he, “there are many here as ready, nay, more zealous for “ this martyrdom than I can be, however modesty and the

fear of imputed ostentation may withhold them from being

foremost in exhibiting their merits.”-“ Yes there are,” exclaiined his son." Ah, my child !” (cried St. PiERRE) “ I am tben twice facrificed.-But no.-I have " rather begotten thee a second time.-Thy years are few, “ but full, my son ; the victim of virtue has reached the “ utmost purpose and goal of mortality.”_" Who next,

my friends ? - This is the hour of heroes.”-“ Your kinsman!” (cried JAMES WISSANT).-" Your kins

!" (cried Peter WISSANT).-“ Ah!" (exclaimed Sir WALTER MAUNY, bursting into tears), “ Why was I not a citizen of Calais ?”

The fixth victim was still wanting, but was supplied by lot, from numbers who were emulous of so ennobling an example. The keys of the city were then delivered to Sir WAL

He took the six prisoners into his custody. But before they departed, the citizens desired permission to

man