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, While rock, and glen, and cave, and coun The thunder--of their feet! He, who with heaven contended, 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 hereaf- forth in lovliness. The stars attend thy bluc ter? Did the battle of Thermopyla--pre-course in the east. The clouds rejoice in serve 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 re collection 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 caviis, and sneers, 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, thy presence, O moon. They brighten their Yes! fail, one night, and leave thy blue path in heaven. Her sails were set, but the dying wind 592. A BATTLE-FIELD. We cannot see | an individual expire, though a stranger, or an enemy, without being sensibly moved, and prompted by compassion, to lend him every 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 insuits 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 suiterings, or mingled with your dust? 593. BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE. Not a drum was heard | nor a funeral | note, Nor in sheet | nor in shroud we bound him, We thought as we heaped the narrow bed, But nothing he'll reck if they let him sleep on, 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; Cæsar says to me,-"Darest thou, Cassius, now 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 How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake; Ye gods! it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper-should Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, Write them together: yours is as fair a name ; Now, in the name of all the gods at once, Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods. Rome, That her wide walls encompassed but one man! A warm heart-in this cold world-is like 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; I 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 them, 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: "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 meant." "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, long a voyage, so hard a task; You must-but ah! the boon I want, I have no hope that you will grant." "Shall I, like Bonaparte, aspire To be the world's imperial sire? Express the wish, and here I vow, To place a crown upon your brow." "Sir, these are trifles"-she replied"But, if you wish me for your bride, You must-but still I fear to speakYou'll never grant the boon I seek." "O say!" he cried-" dear angel sayWhat 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, Though blest with more than mortal charms, To take the beau, with all his hair.-Woodwor This path, you say, is hid in endless night; 597. OSSIN'S ADDRESS TO THE SUN. O thou, that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers! whence are thy beams, O sun! thy everlasting light? Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty; the stars-hide themselves in the sky; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave. But thou, thyself, movest alone: who can be a companion of thy course? The oaks of the mountains fall; the mountains themselves decay with years: the ocean shrinks, and grows again; the moon, herself, is lost in the heavens; but thou-art forever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy course. When the world is dark with tempests, when thunders roll, and lightnings fly, thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian-thou lookest in vain; for he beholds thy beams no more; whether thy yellow hair-flows on the eastern clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. But thou art, perhaps, like me, for a season: thy years will have an end. Thou wilt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice of the morning. 598. DOUGLAS'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF. The shepherd's slothful life; and having heard MORAL TRUTH INTELLIGIBLE TO ALL. The shepherd lad, who, in the sunshine, carves 599. OF ELOCUTION. Eloct tion- ta art, or the act, of so delivering our own trots and feelings, or the thoughts and feelings of others, as not only to convey to those around us, with precision, force, and harmony, the full purport, and meaning of the words and sen tences, in which these thoughts are clothed; but also, to excite and to impress upon their minds the feelings, imaginations, and pas sions, by which those thoughts are dictated, or by which they should naturally be accompani ed. Elocution, therefore, in its more ample and liberal signification, is not confined to the mere exercise of the organs of speech. it embraces the whole theory and practice of the exterior demonstration of the inward workings of the mind. To concentrate what has been said by an allegorical recapitulation: Eloquence-may be considered as the soul, or animated principle of discourse; and is dependent on intellectual energy and intellectual attainments. Elocution is the embo dying form, or representative power; dependent on exterior accomplishments, and on the cultivation of the organs. Oratory-is the complicated and vital existence, resulting from the perfect harmony and combination of eloquence and elocution. The vital existence, however, in its full perfection, is one of the choicest rarities of nature. The high and splendid accomplishments of oratory, even in the most favored age and the most favored countries, have been attained by few; and many are the ages, and many are the countries, in which these accomplishments have never once appeared. Generations have succeeded to generations, and centuries have rolled after centuries, during which, the intellectual desert has not exhibited even one solitary specimen of the stately growth and flourishing expansion of oratorical genius. The rarity of this occurrence is, undoubtedly, in part, to be accounted for, from the difficul ty of the attainment. The palm of oratori cal perfection is only to be grasped--it is, in reality, only to be desired, by aspiring souls, and intellects of unusual energy. It requires a persevering toil which few would be contented to encounter; a decisive intrepid ity of character, and an untamableness of mental ambition, which very, very few can be expected to possess. It requires, also, conspicuous opportunities for cultivation and display, to which few can have the fortune the hardihood to endeavor to create. to be born, and which fewer still will have VIRTUE THE GUARDIAN OF YOUTH. Down the smooth stream of life the striping darta, a state to enjoy all the benefits of victory, f we gain the victory? If we fail, it can be no worse for us.-Bu! we shall not fail. The cause will raise up armies; the cause will create navies. The people, if we are true to them, will carry us, and will carry 600. SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS ON ADOPTING THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. It is true, indeed, that in the beginning, we aimed not at independence. But there's a Divinity, which shapes our ends. The injustice of England has driven us to arms; and, blinded to her own interest, for our good, she has obstinately persist-themselves, gloriously through this struggle. I care ed, till independence is now within our grasp. We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. Why, then, should we defer the declaration? Is any man so weak, as now to hope for a reconciliation with England, which shall leave either safety to the country, and its liberties, or safety to his own life, and his own honor? Are not you, sir, who sit in that chair; is not he, our venerable colleague near you; are you not both, already, the proscribed, and predestined objects of punishment, and of vengeance? Cut off from all hope of royal clemency, what are you, what can you be, while the power of England remains, but outlaws? If we postpone independence, do we mean to carry on, or to give up the war? Do we mean to submi to the measures of parlianent, Boston port-bill and all? Do we mean to submit, and consent that we ourselves shall be ground to powder, and our country and its rights trodden down in the dust? not how fickle other people have been found. I know the people of these colonies; and I know, that resistance to British aggression is deep and settled in their hearts, and cannot be eradicated. Every colony, indeed, has expressed its willingness to follow, if we but take the lead. Sir, the declaration will inspire the people with increased courage. Instead of a long and bloody war for restoration of privileges, for redress of grievances, for chartered immunities, held under a British king, set before them the glorious object of entire independence, and it will breathe into them anew the breath of life. Read this declaration at the head of the army; every sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow uttered, to maintain it or to perish on the bed of honor. Publish it from the pulpit; religion will approve it, and the love of religious liberty will cling around it, resolved to stand with it, or fall with it. Send it to the public halls; proclaim it there; let them I know we do not mean to submit. We never hear it, who heard the first roar of the enemy's shall submit. Do we intend to violate that most cannon; let them see it, who saw their brothers solemn obligation, ever entered into by men, that and their sons fall on the field of Bunker-Hill, and plighting, before God, of our sacred honor to Wash-in the streets of Lexington and Concord,—and the ington, when, putting him forth to incur the dangers of war, as well as the political hazards of the times, we promised to adhere to him, in every extremsty, with our fortunes, and our lives? I know there is not a man here, who would not rather see a general conflagration sweep over the land, or an earthquake sink it, than one jot or tittle of that plighted faith to fall to the ground. For myself, having, twelve months ago, in this place, moved you, that George Washington be appointed commander of the forces, raised, or to be raised, for defence of American liberty, may my right nand forget her cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate, or waver in the support I give him. The war, then, must go on. We must fight it through. And, if the war must go on, why put off onger, the declaration of independence? That measure will strengthen us. It will give us character abroad. The nations will then treat with us; which they never can do, while we acknowledge ourselves subjects, in arms against our sovereign. Nay, I maintain, that England herself will sooner treat for peace with us, on the footing of independence, than consent, by repealing her acts, to acknowledge that her whole conduct toward us, has been a course of injustice and oppression. Her pride will be less wounded, by submitting to that course of things, which now predestinates our independence, than by yielding the points in controversy to her rebellious subjects. The former she would regard as the result of fortune; the latter she would feel as her own deep disgrace. Why hen, sir, do we not as soon as possible, change is from a civil to a national war? And, since we inust fight it through, why not put ourselves in very walls will cry out in its support. Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs; but I see clearly, through this day's business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live to the time, when this declaration shall be made good. We may die; die, colonists; die, slaves; die, it may be, ignominiously, and on the scaffold. Be it so. If it be the pleasure of Heaven, that my country shall require the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready, at the appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But, whatever may be our fate, be assured that this declaration will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood; but it will stand, and it will richly compensate for both. Through the thick gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the future as the sun in heaven. We shall make this a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in our graves, our children will honor it. They will celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, with bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual return, they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, not of subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, before God I believe the hour is come. My judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I am, all that I have, and all that I hope for, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it: and I leave off, as I began; sink or swim; live or die; survive, or perish, I am for the declaration. it is my living sentiment; and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment-Independence now! and independence-FOREVER!-Webster. Be not dismayed-fear-nurses up a dange: |