672. MILITARY DESPOTISM AND INSUBORDINATION. Mr. Chairman,-I trust, that I shall be indulged, with some few reflections, upon the danger of permitting the conduct, on which it has been my painful duty to animadvert, to pass, without a solemn expression of the disapprobation of this house. Recall to your recollection, sir, the free nations, which have gone before us. Where are they now? "Gone, glimmering through the dream of things that were; A schoolboy's tale,-the wonder of an hour." And how have they lost their liberties? If we could transport ourselves back, sir, to the ages when Greece, and Rome, flourished, in their greatest prosperity, and, mingling in the throng, should ask a Grecian, if he did not fear, that some daring military chieftain, covered with glory, some Philip, or Alexander, would one day overthrow the liberties of his country, the confident, and indignant Grecian would exclaim, No! no! we have nothing| to fear from our heroes; our liberties will be eternal. If a Roman citizen had been asked, if he did not fear, that the conqueror of Gaul might establish a throne upon the ruins of public liberty, he would have instantly repelled the unjust insinuation. Yet, Greece has fallen; Cesar--has passed the rubicon; and the patriotic arm even of Brutus-could not preserve the liberties of his devoted country. Sir, we are fighting a great moral battle for the benefit, not only of our country, but of all mankind. The eyes of the whole world are in fixed attention upon us. One, and the largest portion of it, is gazing with jealousy, and with envy; the other portion, with hope, with confidence, and with affection. Every where the black cloud of legitimacy is suspended over the world, save only one bright spot, which breaks out from the political hemisphere of the west, to enlighten, and animate, and gladden the human heart. Obscure that, by the downfall of liberty here, and all mankind-are enshrouded-in a pall of universal larkness. Beware, then, sir, how you give a atal sanction, in this infant period of our republic, to military insubordination. Rememoer, that Greece-had her Alexander, Rome her Cesar, England-her Cromwell, France her Bonaparte, and, that if we would escape the rock, on which they split, we must avoid their errors. 673. THE FRENCHMAN AND HIS HOSг. A Frenchman once, who was a merry wight, Passing to town from Dover in the night, Near the roadside an ale-house chanced to spy: And being rather tired as well as dry, Resolved to enter; but first he took a peep, In hopes a supper he might get, and cheap. He enters: "Hallo! Garcon, if you please, Bring me a little bit of bread and cheese. And hallo! Garcon, a pot of porter too!" he said, "Vich I shall take, and den myself to bed." [left, His supper done, some scraps of cheese were which our poor Frenchman, thinking it no theft, Into his pocket put; then slowly crept To wished-for bed; but not a wink he sleptFor, on the floor, some sacks of flour were laid, To which the rats a nightly visit paid. Our hero now undressed, popped out the light, Put on his cap and bade the world good-night; But first his breeches, which contained the fare, Under his pillow he had placed with care. Sans ceremonie, soon the rats all ran, [round, And on the flour-sacks greedily began; Vat de diable is it he nibbel, nibbel at?" In vain our little hero sought repose; Sometimes the vermin galloped o'er his nose; And such the pranks they kept up all the night, That he, on end antipodes upright, Bawling aloud, called stoutly for a light. "Hallo! Maison! Garcon, I say! Bring me the bill for vat I have to pay!" The bill was brought, and to his great surprise, Ten shillings was the charge, he scarce believes With eager haste, he runs it o'er, [his eyes And every time he viewed it thought it more. "Vy zounds, and zounds!" he cries, "I sall no pay; Vat charge ten shelangs for vat I have mange ? A leetal sup of porter, dis vile bed, Vare all de rats do run about my head?" "Plague on those rats!" the landlord muttered out; I wish, upon my word, that I could make 'em Scout: [pray : I hope, sir, that gentlemen will deliberately survey the awful isthmus, on which we stand. They may bear down all opposition. They may even vote general Jackson the public thanks. They may carry him triumphant- I'll pay him well that can." "Vat's dat you say?" ly through this house. But, if they do, sir, in "I'll pay him well that can." "Attend to me, I my humble judgment, it will be a triumph of Vil you dis charge forego, vat I am at, the principle of insubordination-a triumph If from your house I drive away de rat?" of the military-over the civil authority-a" with all my heart," the jolly host replies, triumph over the powers of this house--a tri"Ecoutez donc, ami ;" the Frenchman cries. umph over the constitution of the land; and I pray, sir, most devoutly, that it may not "First, den-Regardez, if you please, prove, in its ultimate effects and consequen- Bring to dis spot a lestle bread and cheese: ces, a triumph over the liberties of the people, Eh bien! a pot of portar too; THE EARTH HAS BEEN ALL ALIVE. What is the world itself? thy world?-a grave! And den invite de rats to sup vid 674. Loss OF NATIONAL CHARACTER. The loss of a firm, national character, or the degradation of a nation's honor, is the inevitable prelude to her destruction. Behold the once proud fabric of the Roman empire; an empire, carrying its arts, and arms, into every part of the eastern continent; the monarchs of mighty kingdoms, dragged at the wheels of her triumphal chariots; her eagle, waving over the ruins of desolated countries. Where is her splendor, her wealth, her power, her glory? Extinguished-forever. Her moldering temples, the mournful vestiges of her former grandeur, afford a shelter to her muttering monks. Where are her statesmen, her sages, her philosophers, her orators, her generals? Go to their solitary tombs, and inquire. She lost her national character, and her destruction followed. The ramparts of her national pride were broken down, and Vandal'ism desolated her classic fields. Citizens will lose their respect and confidence, in our government, if it does not extend over them, the shield of an honorable, national character. Corruption will creep in, and sharpen party animosity. Ambitious leaders will seize upon the favorable moment. The mad enthusiasm for revolution - will call into action the irritated spirit of our nation, and civil war must follow. The swords of our countrymen may yet glitter on our mountains, their blood may yet crimson our plains. 675. GOOD-NIGHT. Good-night-to all the world! there's mine, To whom, I feel, or hate, or spite, Yet, let me hope, one faithful friend, RESPECT TO OLD AGE. It happened at Athens, during a public representation of some play, exhibited in honor of the commonSuch, the warning voice of all antiquity, the wealth, that an old gentleman came too late, example of all republics proclaim-may be for a place suitable to his age, and quality, our fate. But let us no longer indulge these Many of the young gentlemen, who observed gloomy anticipations. The commencement the difficulty and confusion he was in, made of our liberty presages the dawn of a brighter signs to him, that they would accommodate period to the world. That bold, enterprising him, if he came where they sat. The good spirit, which conducted our heroes to peace; man bustled through the crowd accordingly; and safety, and gave us a lofty rank, amid but when he came to the seat, to which he the empires of the world, still animates the was invited, the jest was, to sit close, and exbosoms of their descendants. Look back to pose him, as he stood out of countenance, to the moment, when they unbarred the dun- the whole audience. The frolic went round geons of the slave, and dashed his fetters all the Athenian benches. But, on those octo the earth, when the sword of a Washing-casions, there were also particular places reton leaped from its scabbard, to revenge the served for foreigners. When the good man slaughter of our countrymen. Place their skulked towards the boxes, appointed for the example before you. Let the sparks of Lacedemonians, that honest people, more vir their veteran wisdom flash across yourtuous than polite, rose up all to a man, and minds, and the sacred altars of your liber- with the greatest respect, received him among ty, crowned with immortal honors, rise be- them. The Athenians, being suddenly touch fore you. Relying on the virtue, the cour-ed with a sense of the Spartan virtue, and age, the patriotism, and the strength of our their own degeneracy, gave a thunder of apcountry, we may expect our national charac-plause; and the old man cried out, "the Atheter will become more energetic, our citizens nians understand what is good, but the Lacemore enlightened, and may hail the age as demonians practice it. not far distant, when will be heard, as the proudest exclamation of man: I am an American.-Maxcy. [flood? The bell strikes one: We take no note of time, FORTUNE-TELLER. A hungry, lean-fac'd villain, A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune telleri RECREATION. Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue, 676. THE GROVES: GOD'S FIRST TEMPLES. The groves-were God's first temples. Ere man To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, [learned And spread the roof above them,-ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather, and roll back, The sound of anthems,-in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered, to the Mightiest, solemn thanks, And supplication. For his simple heart Might not resist the sacred influences, That, from the stilly twilight of the place, And from the gray old trunks, that, high in heav'n, Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound Of the invisible breath, that swayed, at once, All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed His spirit-with the thought of boundless Power, And inaccessible Majesty. Ah! why Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore, Only, among the crowd, and under roofs, Seems, as it issues from the shapeless moul 1, My heart-is awed within me, when I think Lo! all grow old, and die: but see, again, The freshness of her far beginning lies, That our frail hands have raised? Let me, at least, Of his arch enemy-Death; yea, seats himself Father, thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns; thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, And shot towards heav'n. The century-living crow, Whose birth was in their tops, grew old, and died, Among their branches; till, at last, they stood, As now they stand, massy, and tall, and darkFit shrine-for humble worshiper to hoid Communion with his Maker. Here are seen, No traces of man's pomp, or pride; no silks Rustle, no jewels shine, nor envious eyes Encounter; no fantastic carvings-show The boast of our vain race-to change the form Of thy fair works. But thou art here; thou fill'st The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds, That run along the summits of these trees, In music; thou art in the cooler breath, That, from the inmost darkness of the place, Comes, scarcely felt; the barky trunks, the ground, The fresh, moist ground, are all instinct with thee. Here, is continual worship; nature, here, In the tranquillity that thou dost love, Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around, From perch to perch, the solitary bird Passes; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs, Wells softly forth, and visits the strong roots Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left Thyself without a witness, in these shades, Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace, Are here to speak of thee. This mighty oakBy whose immovable stem I stand, and seem Almost annihilated-not a prince, In all the proud old world, beyond the deep, F'er wore his crown-as loftily as he Wears the green coronal of leaves, with which Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare Of the broad sun. That delicate forest-flower, With scented breath, and look, so like a smile, Upon the sepulchre, and blooms, and smiles, O God! when thou The swift, dark whirlwind, that uproots the woods, And drowns the villages; when, at thy call, Uprises the great deep. and throws himself Upon the continent, and overwhelms Its cities;-who forgets not, at the sight Of these tremendous tokens of thy power, His pride, and lays his strifes, and follies by! Oh! from the sterner aspects of thy face Spare me, and mine; nor let us need the wrath Of the mad, unchained elements, to teach Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, In these calm shades, thy milder majesty, And to the beautiful order of thy works, Learn to conform the order of our lives.-Bryant. Naturally, men are prone to spin themselves a web of opinions out of their ow! brain, and to have a religion that may be ca!led their own. Men are far readier to make themselves a faith, than to receive that which God hath formed to their hands, and they are far readier to receive a doctrine that tends to their carnal commodity, or honor, or delights, than one that tends to self-denial. Like dogs in a wheel, birds in a cage, or squir rels in a chain, ambitious men still climb and climb, with great labor, and incessant anxiety but never reach the top. 677. PHYSICAL EDUCATION. That is, undoubtedly, the wisest, and best regimen, which takes the infant from the cradle, and conducts him along, through childhood, and youth, up to high maturity, in such a manner, as to give strength to his arm, swiftness to his feet, solidity and amplitude to his muscles, symmetry to his frame, and expansion to his vital energies. It is obvious, that this branch of education comprehends, not only food and clothing, but air, exercise, lodging, early rising, and whatever else is requisite, to the full development of the physical constitution. The diet must be simple, the apparel must not be too warm, nor the bed too soft. Let parents beware of too much restriction in the management of their darling boy. Let him, in choosing his play, follow the suggestions of nature. Let them not be discomposed at the sight of his sand-hills in the road, his snow-forts in February, and his mud-dams in April; nor when they chance to look out in the midst of an August shower, and see kim wading and sailing, and sporting along with the water-fowl. If they would make him hardy and fearless, they must let him go abroad as often as he pleases, in his early boyhood, and amuse himself by the hour together, in smoothing and twirling the hoary locks of winter. Instead of keeping him shut up all day with a stove, and graduating his sleeping-room by Fahrenheit, they must let him face the keen edge of a north-wind, when the mercury is below cipher; and, instead of minding a little shivering, and complaining, when he returns, cheer up his spirits, and send him out again. In this way, they will teach him, that he was not born to live in the nursery, nor to brood over the fire; but to range abroad, as free as the snow, and the air, and to gain warmth from exercise. 1 I love, and admire the youth, who turns not back from the howling wintry blast, nor withers under the blaze of summer; who never magnifies "mole-hills into mountains ;" but whose daring eye, exulting, scales the cagle's airy crag, and who is ready to undertake anything, that is prudent, and lawful, within the range of possibility. Who would think of planting the mountain-oak-in a green-house? or of rearing the cedar of Lebanon-in a lady's flower-pot? Who does not know that, in order to attain their mighty strength, and majestic forms, they must freely enjoy the rain, and the sunshine, and must feel the rocking of the tempest? THE CHASE. The stag, at eve, had drunk his fill, Tossed his beamed frontlet-to the sky; "Tis not enough-the voice be sound, and clear, NATURE'S WANTS ARE FEW. 679. A CURE FOR HARD TIMES. We are too fond of showing out in our families; and, in this way, our expenses far exceed our incomes. Our daughters-must be dressed off in their silks and crapes, instead of their ansey-woolsey. Our young folks--are too proud to be seen in a coarse dress, and their extravagance is bringing ruin on our families. When you can induce your sons to prefer young women, for their real worth, rather than for their show; when you can get them to choose a wife, who can make a good loaf of bread, and a good pound of butter, in preference to a girl, who does nothing but dance about in her silks, and her laces; then, gentlemen, you may expect to see a change for the better. We must get back to the good old simplicity of former times, if we expect to see more prosperous days. The time was, even since memory, when a simple note was good for any amount of money, but now bonds and mortgages are thought almost no security; and this owing to the want of confidence. And what has caused this want of confidence? Why, it is occasioned by the extravagant manner of living; by your families going in debt beyond your ability to pay. Examine this matter, gentlemen, and you will find this to be the real cause. Teach your sons to be too proud to ride a hackney, which their father cannot pay for. Let them be above being seen sporting in a gig, or a carriage, which their father is in debt for. Let them have this sort of independent pride, and I venture to say, that you will soon perceive a reformation. But, until the change commences in this way in our families; until we begin the work ourselves, it is in vain to expect better times. Now, gentlemen, if you think as I do on this subject, there is a way of showing that you do think so, and but one way; when you return to your homes, have independence enough to put these principles in practice; and I am sure you will not be disappointed. 680. THE FIRE-SIDE. Dear Chloe, while the busy crowd, Be call'd our choice, we'll step aside, Where love-our hours employs; Tho' fools--spurn Hymen's gentle pow'rs, By sweet experience know, That marriage, rightly understood, Gives to the tender, and the good, A paradise below. Our babes, shall richest comfort bring; If tutor'd right, they'll prove a spring Whence pleasures ever rise: And train them for the skies. And crown our hoary hairs: And recompense our cares. And bless our humbler lot. Our portion is not large, indeed! For nature's calls are few: In this, the art of living lies, And make that little do. We'll therefore relish, with content, Nor aim beyond our pow'r; Nor lose the present hour. Whose fragrance-smells to heav'n Thus, hand in hand, thro' life we'll go; With cautious steps, we'll tread; And smooth the bed of death.-Coten. Ye glittering towns, with wealth and splendor crown'd; Ye fields, where summer spreads profusion round Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale; Ye bending swains, that dress the flowery vale For me your tributary stores combine: Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine. |