READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 583. CHANGING AND UNCHANGING. we have looked on the pleasures of life, and they have vanished away; when we have looked on the works of nature, and perceived that they were changing; on the monuments of art, and seen that they would not stand; on our friends, and they have fed while we were gazing; on ourselves, and felt that we were as fleeting as they; when we have looked on every object to which we could turn our arrious eyes, and they have all told us that they uld give us no hope nor support, because they were so feeble themselves; we can look to the throne of God: change and decay have never reached that; the revolution of ages has never moved it; the waves of an eternity have been rushing past it, but it has remained unshaken; the waves of another eternity are rushing toward it, but it is fixed, and can never be disturbed. INFANT SLEEPING IN A GARDEN. Sleep on, sweet babe! the flowers, that wake To make thy infant slumbers bless'd. As ever bowed the summer rose.-Dawes. 584. The estimate and valor of a man, consist in the heart, and in the will; there, his true honor lives; valor is stability, not of legs and arms, but of courage, and the soul; it does not lie in the valor of our horse, nor of our arms, but in ourselves. He, that falls obstinate in his courage, Si succiderit de genu pugnat; if his legs fail him, fights upon his knees. Hast thou sounded the depths-of yonder sea, It rains. What lady-loves a rainy day? 587. Oun COUNTRY. And let the sa- 588. MORAL EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCR 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 agonies, 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 preservation; and there is opened to us, also, a noble pursuit, to which the spirit of the times strongly invites us. Our proper business is improvement. Let our age be the age of improvement. 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, proinote 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 dignity-see Wolsey stand, Still, to new heights, his restless wishes tower; Pailly-thy naine Man; the earth-waits her king. again resolves, and weeps, and prays, and "seeks it yet again!" Wretched man! he has placed himself in the hands of a giant, who never pities, and never relaxes his iron gripe. He may struggle, but he is in chains. He may cry for release, but it comes not; and lost! lost! may be inscribed on the doorposts 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 THE DESTRUCTION OF SENACHERIB. True happiness-is to no place confined: READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 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 side, 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 ob tained, 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 brilliant 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 morrow's meeds,— On earth and saw, from east-to west, The thunder--of their feet! He, who with heaven contended, He stood; fleet, army, treasure,—gone.— But wave, and wind-swept ruthless on, What do I mean by national glory? Glory such as Hull, Jackson, and Perry have acquired. And 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 hereafter? Did the battle of Thermopyle-preserve Greece but once? Whilst the Mississippi--continues to bear the tributes of the Iron Mountains, and the Alleghenies--to her Delta, and to the Gulf of Mexico, the eighth of January shall be remembered, and the glory of that day shall stimulate future patriots, and nerve the arms of unborn freemen, in driving the presumptuous invader from our country's soil. 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? Evely act of noble sacrifice 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 neers, 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 XERXES. I saw him--on the battle-eve, forth in lovliness. The stars attend thy blue course in the east. The clouds rejoice in thy presence, O moon. They brighten their dark-brown sides. Who is like thee, in heav en, light of the silent night! The stars, in thy presence, turn away their sparkling eyes. Whither dost thou retire from thy course, when the darkness of thy countenance grows? Hast thou thy hall, like Ossian? Dwellest thou in the shadow of grief! Have thy sisters fallen from heaven? Are they, who rejoice with thee at night, no more? they have fallen, fair light! and thou dost often retire to mourn. But thou thyself shalt fail, one night, and leave thy blue path in heaven. Yes! The stars will then lift up their heads, and rejoice. Thou art now clothed with thy brightness. Look from thy gates in the sky. Burst the cloud, O wind, that the daughter of night may look forth: that the shaggy mout tains may brighten, and the ocean roll its white waves in light. SHIP. Her sails were set, but the dying wind And bade him follow; so, indeed, he did. 592. A BATTLE-FIELD. We cannot see | Cæsar says to me,-"Darest thou, Cassius, now an individual expire, though a stranger, or Leap in with me, into this angry flood, an enemy, without being sensibly moved, and And swim to yonder point ?"—Upon the word, prompted by compassion, to lend him every Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, assistance in our power. Every trace of resentment-vanishes in a moment; every other emotion-gives way to pity and terror. In these last extremities, we remember nothing, but the respect and tenderness, due to our common nature. What a scene, then, must a field of battle present, where thousands are left, without assistance, and without pity, with their wounds exposed to the piercing air, while their blood, freezing as it flows, binds them to the earth, amid the trampling of horses, and the insults of an enranged foe! Far from their native home, no tender assiduities of friendship, no wellknown voice, no wife, or mother, or sister, is near, to soothe their sorrows, relieve their thirst, or close their eyes in death. Unhappy man! and must you be swept into the grave, unnoticed, and unnumbered, and no friendly tear be shed for your sufferings, or mingled with your dust? 593. BURIAL OF SIR JOHN moore. The turf with our bay'nets | turning. Few and short were the prayers we said, Nor in sheet nor in shroud I we bound him, When the clock I told the hour for retiring, From the field of his fame, fresh, and gory, 594. CASSIUS AGAINST Cæsar. I had as lief not be, as live to be in awe of such a thing-as myself. I was born free as Cæsar; so were you; The troubled Tiber, chafing with its shores, Did from the flames of Troy, upon his shoulder He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark Ye gods! it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper-should Write them together: yours is as fair a name ; Now, in the name of all the gods at once, Rome, thou hast 18st the breed of noble bloods. That her wide walls encompassed but one mans A warm heart-in this cold world-is like A beacon-light-wasting feeble flame Nature, in her productions slow, aspires, 604. AGAINST THE AMERICAN WAR. I 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; now, 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 effect. 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; 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 American, 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, Of virtue, wealth, and graces rare; Nothing on earth, but you I prize, The maiden heard, and thus replied: And, in return, will give my hand" "A sacrifice! O speak its name, For you I'd forfeit wealth, and fame; Take my whole fortune-every cent" ""Twas something more than wealth I mean." "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, "Shall I, like Bonaparte, aspire you "O say!" he cried-" dear angel say→ What must I do, and I obey; No longer rack me with suspense, So, look'd Macbeth, whose guilty eye At length, our hero, silence broke, To win an empress to my arms; But quick retreated through the door, To take the beau, with all his hair.-Woodworta. Tis self conceit, alone, obstructs your sight. |