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fell to the ground on saying this, and almost immediately expired. His unfortunate father soon after came, and seeing the body of his devoted son, remained for a short time stupified with agony. “ He thought to die for me, he wished to save both his father and his queen! But it was I, not he, who was the murderer, and I must expiate my crime on the scaffold or the wheel.”
How oft, in many a distant place,
Beyond the foaming sea,
Betwixt my home and me :
(Nor e'en from tears forbore,)
Could see my native shore.
But still, whene'er my mind was sad,
When dimm'd my eye the tear,
One thought my spirit cheer :
The gloom could clear away,
Be brighten'd into day.
I hop'd my native home, once more,
And all I lov'd, to see ;
In long felicity.
Alas! I little knew ;
That Hope could prove untrue.
And time, indeed, hath pass'd away,
But ah! how slowly pass'd ;
And I at home at last.
Hope's visions, where are they?
They all have pass'd away.
An exile in my native land,
A home have I no more ;
Hath clos'd my father's door.
More dear than all beside ?
My mother by his side.
If e'er an hour of bliss I knew,
Fair was the summer's eve; the sun Was sinking slow, his journey done. When homewards I with hurried face, And panting heart, and joy-flush'd face, Through scenes well known in younger day, My native village, bent my way; Unchang'd, unalter'd, as before, It still the self-same aspect wore ;
But oft strange faces met my view,
And now my home was just in view, As quick I pass'd the church-yard through; Where many a new-rais'd mound might tell, That death had done his office well. One stone there was, whose marble fair, Show'd that no vulgar dead lay there. One side-long glance I careless threw, It could not be-I saw not trueAgain I look'd with phrensied eye, And saw the appalling certainty ; I saw-and stood in mute despairMy father's name was graven there!
THE DEATH OF MONTGOMERY.
Calmly he lay; from that young side,
Has fallen; he who wont to brood,
Tantum de medio sumptis accedit honoris,
There are, amidst the chequered shades and infinite varieties of terrestrial feelings and passions, certain qualities of an indifferent and negative nature in themselves ; qualities which, though they do not display any feature from which we can discover in them a direct or immediate tendency to the nature of Virtue or of Vice, are nevertheless found, in the degree of influence which they exercise upon our habits of life and rules of action, to be firm, though humble auxiliaries of the one, and though the mere outworks and projections of the fortress, still, in their measure, bulwarks to oppose the progress of the other.
Thus we have heard, that Cleanliness is next to a Virtue, and Debt next to a Vice. The former of these propositions is much more easy to swallow than the latter ; and, fortunately for some of us, Reason here appears to agree with inclination. For, as the preservation of health is certainly a duty, and as cleanliness is a powerful accessory to such preservation, it may herein be placed on a footing different from that of its brother thesis : since the moral merits or demerits of debt must entirely depend on the accompanying circumstances, under the influence of which such and such responsibilities are incurred. There are for instance, many occasions on which it is sinful-some, on which it is meritorious, to incur a debt. The man who contributes, by borrowing, to cause even the possibility of the embarrassment or the ruin of a fellow creature, voluntarily renders himself liable to at least the guilt of a contingent injury towards his neighbour. But he who for a lawful or a generous end, borrows that which he has good reason to suppose it will be in his power to repay-reason, founded not on capricious or interested suppositions, but on sound circumstantialevidence-such a one, surely, may rather have to claim