734. DUTIES OF AMERICAN CITIZENS. Let us contemplate, then, this connection, Fellow-citizens: let us not retire from this oc- which binds the posterity of others to our casion, without a deep and solemn conviction own; and let us manfully discharge all the of the duties, which have devolved upon us. duties it imposes. If we cherish the virtues, This lovely land, this glorious liberty, these and the principles of our fathers, Heaven will benign institutions, the dear purchase of our assist us to carry on the work of human libfathers, are ours; ours to enjoy, ours to pre-erty, and human happiness. Auspicious serve, ours to transmit. Generations past, omens cheer us. Great examples are before and generations to come, hold us responsible us. Our firmament now shines brightly upon for this sacred trust. Our fathers, from be- our path. Washington is in the clear, upper hind-admonish us with their anxious, pater-sky. Adams, Jefferson, and other stars have nal voices; postery-calls out to us from the joined the American constellation; they cirbosom of the future; the world turns hither cle round their center, and the heavens beam its solicitous eyes; all, all conjure us to act with new light. Beneath this illumination, wisely, and faithfully, in the relation which let us walk the course of life; and, at its close, we sustain. We can never, indeed, pay the devoutly commend our beloved country, the debt which is upon us; but, by virtue, by mo- common parent of us all, to the divine be rality, by religion, by the cultivation of every nignity.--Webster. good principle, and every good habit, we may bope to enjoy the blessing, through our day, and leave it, unimpaired, to our children. Let us feel deeply, how much of what we are, and what we possess, we owe to this liberty, and to these institutions of government. Nature has, indeed, given us a soil, which yields bounteously-to the hands of industry; the mighty and fruitful ocean is before us, and the skies, over our heads, shed health and vigor. But what are lands, and seas, and skies to civilized man, without society, without knowledge, without morals, without religious culture; and how can these be enjoyed, in all their extent, and all their excellence, but under the protection of wise institutions, and a free government? Fellow-citizens, there is not one of us here present, who does not, at this moment, and at every moment, experience, in his own condition, and in the condition of those most near and dear to him, the influence, and the benefits-of this liberty, and these institutions. Let us then, acknowledge the blessing; let us feel it deeply, and powerfully; let us cherish a strong affection for it, and resolve to maintain, and perpetuate it. The blood of our fathers, let it not have been shed in vain; the great hope of posterity, let it not be blasted. The striking attitude, too, in which we stand to the world around us,--cannot be altogether omitted here. Neither individuals, nor nations--can perform their part well, until they understand, and feel its importance, and comprehend, and justly appreciate, all the duties belonging to it. It is not to inflate national vanity, nor to swell a light and empty feeling of self-importance; but it is, that we may judge justly of our situation and of our duties, that I earnestly urge this consideration of our position, and our character among the nations of the earth. 735. LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS. The breaking waves--dashed high On a stern-and rock-bound coast, They, the true-hearted, came, In silence, and in fear; They shook the depth of the desert's gloom, Amidst the storm-they sang, And the stars-heard, and the sea; The ocean-eagle-soared From his nest-by the white wave's foam, There were men-with hoary hair, What-sought they-thus, afar? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? Aye, call it holy ground, [found The soil-where first they trod! It cannot be denied, but by those who would dispute against the sun, that with America, and in America, a new era commences in Twas Slander-filled her mouth with lying words, human affairs. This era is distinguished by Slander, the foulest whelp of Sin. The man free representative governments, by entire In whom this spirit entered-was undone. religious liberty, by improved systems of national intercourse, by a newly awakened and His tongue-was set on fire of hell, his heart an unquenchable spirit of free inquiry, and Was black as death, his legs-were faint withthaste by a diffusion of knowledge through the com- To propagate the lie-his soul had framed; munity, such as has been before, altogether His pillow-was the peace of families unknown, and unheard of. America, Ame-Destroyed, the sigh of innocence reproached, rica, our country, fellow-citizens, our own Broken friendships, and the strife of brotherhood dear and native land, is inseparably connect-Yet did he spare his sleep, and hear the clock ed, fast bound up, in fortune, and by fate, with these great interests. If they fall, we fall with them; if they stand, it will be besause we have upholden them. Number the midnight watches, on his bed, boasted institutions? Interrogate the shades of those who fell in the mighty contests, between Athens and Lacedæmon, between. Carthage and Rome, and between Rome and the rest of the universe. But see our William Penn, with weaponless hands, sitting down, peaceably, with his followers, in the midst of savage nations, whose only occupation was shedding the blood of their fellowmen, disarming them by his justice, and teachwithout distrust. See them bury their tomahawks, in his presence, so deep, that man shall never be able to find them again. See them under the shade of the thick groves of Quaquannock, extend the bright chain of friendship, and promise to preserve it, as long as the sun, and moon shall endure. See him, then, with his companions, establishing his commonwealth on the sole basis of religion, morality, and universal love, and adopting, as the fundamental maxims of his government, the rule handed down to us from HEAVEN, "Glory to God on high, and on earth peace, and good will to all men." Here was a spectacle-for the potentates of the earth to look upon, an example for them to imitate. But the potentates the earth did not see; or, if they saw, they turned away their eyes from the sight; they did not hear; or, if they heard, they shut their ears against the voice. 736. THE PILGRIMS, AND THEIR DESTINY. Methinks I see it now,-that one, solitary, adventurous vessel, the Mayflower-of a forlorn hope, freighted-with the prospects of a future state, and bound--across the unknown sea. I behold it pursuing, with a thousand misgivings, the uncertain, the tedious voyage. Suns rise-and set, and weeks, and months-pass, and winter-surprises them on the deep, but brings them not-the sight of the wished-for shore. I see theming them, for the first time, to view a stranger now, scantily supplied with provisions, crowded, almost to suffocation, in their ill-stored prison, delayed by calms, pursuing a circuitops route, and now, driven in fury, before the raging tempest, on the high and giddy waves. The awful voice of the storm-howis through the rigging. The laboring mastsseem straining from their base; the dismal sound of the pump-is heard-the ship leaps, as it were, madly, from billow to billow; the ocean breaks, and settles with engulphing floods over the floating deck, and beats, with deadening weight, against the staggered vessel. I see them escaped from these perils, pursuing their all but desperate undertaking, and landed, at last, after a five months' passage, on the ice-clad rocks of Plymouth, weak, and weary from the voyage,-poorly armed, scantily provisioned, depending on the charity of their ship-master-for a draft of beer on board, drinking nothing but water on shore, without shelter,-without means,surrounded by hostile tribes. Shut, now, the volume of history, and tell me, on any principle of human probability, what shall be the fate of this handfull of adventurers? Tell me, man of military science, in how many months were they all swept off-by the thirty savage tribes, enumerated within the early limits of New England? Tell me, politician, how long did this shadow of a colony, on which your conventions and treaties had not smiled, languish on the distant coast! Student of history, compare for me-the baffled projects, the deserted settlements, the abandoned adventures, of other times, and find the parallel of this. Was it the winter's storm, beating upon the houseless heads of women and children; was it hard labor and spare meals; was it disease, was it the omahawk; was it the deep malady of a bligd hope, a ruined enterprise, and a broken h t, aching in its last moments, at the recollec n of the loved and left, beyond the sea; w it some, or all of these united, that hurrie his forsaken company to their melanch v fate? And is it possible, that neither of these causes, that not all combined, were able to blast this bud of hope? Is it possible, that from a beginning so feeble, so frail, so worthy, not so much of admiration as of pity, there has gone forth a progress so steady, a growth so wonderful, a reality so important, a promise yet to be fulfilled, so glorious?-Everett. 737. TRIBUTE TO WILLIAM PENN. Wil liam Penn-stands the first, among the lawgivers, whose names, and deeds are recorded in history. Shall we compare with him Lycurgus, Solon, Romulus, those founders of military commonwealths, who organized their citizens in dreadful array-against the rest of their species! taught them to consider their fellow-men as barbarians, and themselves as alone worny to rule over the earth? What benefit did inankind derive from their The character of William Penn alone, sheds a never-fading lustre upon our history. No other state in this Union can boast of such an illustrious founder; none began the social career, under auspices so honorable to humanity. Every trait of the life of that great man, every fact, and anecdote, of those golden times, will furnish many an interesting subject for the fancy of the novelist, and the enthusiasm of the poet.-Duponceau. 738. WOLSEY'S SOLILOQUY ON AMBITION. The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost; I have ventur'd, I feel my heart now open'd. O! how wretched Meditation-here May think down hours-to moments; here. the 739. BASQUE GIRL, OR LOVE'S SACRIFICE. Twas one of those sweet spots, which seem just For lovers' meeting, or, for minstrel haunts [made The maiden's blush--would look so beautiful, By those white roses, and the poet's dream, Would be so soothing, Jull'd by the low notes, The birds sing-to the leaves, whose soft replyIs murmur'd by the wind: the grass beneath, Is full of wild flowers, and the cypress boughs Have twined o'erhead, graceful, and close as love. The sun is shining cheerfully, though scarce his May pierce through the dim shade, yet, still, [rays Some golden hues are glancing o'er the trees, And the blue flood is gliding by, as bright, As hope's first smile. All, lingering, stayed to Upon this Eden-of the painter's art, [gaze And looking on its loveliness, forgotThe crowded world-around them! But a spell, Stronger than the green landscape-fixed the The spell-of woman's beauty! By a beech, [eyeWhose long dark shadow--fell upon the stream, There stood a radiant girl! her chestnut hair-(One bright gold tint was on it)-loosely fell In large rich curls-upon a neck, whose snow And grace--were like the swan's; she wore the Of her own village, and her small white feet [garb And slender ancles, delicate, as carved From Indian ivory-were bare,-the turf [stood! Seem'd scarce to feel their pressure. There she Her head-leant upon her arm, the beech's trunk Supporting her slight figure, and one hand, Press'd to her heart, as if to still its throbs! You never might forget that face,-so young, So fair, yet trac'd--with such deep characters Of inward wretchedness! The eyes were dim With tears, on the dark lashes; still, the lip Could not quite lose-its own accustom'd smile, Even by that pale cheek--it kept its arch, And tender playfulness: you look'd, and said, What can have shadow'd--such a sunny brow? There is so much of natural happiness, In that bright countenance, it seems but formed, For Spring's light sunbeams, or yet lighter dews. You turned away-then came--and look'd again, Watching the pale, and silent loveliness, Till even sleep--was haunted by that image. There was a sever'd chain upon the groundAh! love is e'en more fragile than its gifts! A tress of raven hair ;-oh! only those, Whose souls have felt this one idolatry, Can tell-how precious-is the slightest thing, Affection gives, and hallows! A dead flower Will long be kept, remembrancer of looks, That made each leaf a treasure. The tree Had two slight words-graven upon its stemThe broken heart's last record-of its faith"Adieu Henri!" I learnt the hist'ry of the lovely picture: It was a peasant girl's, whose soul was given To one-as far above her, as the pineTowers o'er the lovely violet; yet still She lov'd, and was belov'd again,--ere yet The many trammels of the world--were flung Around a heart, whose first and latest pulse, Throbb'd-but for beauty: him, the young, the brave, Chivalrous prince, whose name, in after vears, A nation was to worship--that young heart- Moments of ecstasy, and maddening dreams, 740. HOME. There is a land, of every land the pride, 741. MARIA DE TORQUEMADA TAKING TIME VAIL. "My u: you should have seen her, as she stood, dworld-farewell. Her pretty hands, Like two enclasping lilies; in her eyes, Two quivering crystal drops,-her cheek-a rose, Yet of the whitest, turned upon the sky, To which her thoughts were wing'd! I never saw There is a spot, a holy spot, A refuge for the wearied mind; Save from that wildest, worst despair. The bleeding breast-is turned to stone, I ask not death,-I wait thy will; But let me, oh! not linger still, The slave of misery and man! Can last, but till the victim-dies! 742. FALL OF BEAUTY, BY TEMPTATION. Once on a lovely day, it was in springI rested on the verge of that dread cliff, That overlooks old Sterling. All was gay; The birds-sang sweet; the trees-put forth their leaves, I saw her, in mid air, fall like a seraph 743. THE BEST OF WIVES. [ceasing A man had once a vicious wife-- [done. And all the poor man did-was wrong, and ill- From speeches--long as tradesmen spin, In mournful terms, "My dear," he cried, [them. "No more let feuds our peace divide,-I'll end "Weary of life, and quite resigned. To drown-I have made up my mind, I would not be a suicide, and die thus. [do. "It would be better, far I think, [pleasure. [soms; So pale, that in the sun, they looked like blosSome children wandered, careless, on the hill, Selecting early flowers. My heart rejoiced, For all was glad around me. One sweet maid Came tripping near, eyeing, with gladsome smile," Dear husband, help! I sink!" she cried; Each little flower, that bloomed upon the hill: Nimbly she picked them,'minding me of the swan, That feeds upon the waste. I blest the girl,She was not maid, nor child; but of that age, "Twixt both, when purity of frame, and soul, Awaken dreams of beauty, drawn in heaven. Deep in a little den, within the cliff, A flow'ret caught her eye,--it was a primrose, Fair flaunting in the sun. With eager haste, Heedless of risk, she clambered down the steep, Pluck'd the wish'd flower, and sighed! for when she saw The depth she had descended, then, she woke Far, far down on the rocks below, "Thou best of wives--" the man replied, "I would, but you my hands have tied,-bea ven help you." The modern device of consulting indexes, is to read books hebraically, and begin where others usually end. And this is a compendia ous way of coming to an acquaintance with authors; for authors are to be used like lobsters, you must look for the best meat in the tails, and lay the bodies back again in the dish. Your cunningest thieves (and what else are readers, who only read to borrow, i. e. to steal use to cut off the portmanteau from behind, without staying to dive into the pockets of the owner.-Swift. Desire, (when young) is easily suppressed; But, cherished by the sun of warm encourage ment, Becomes too strong-and potent-for control; Nor yields-but to despair, the worst of passiona 744. ALEXANDER'S FEAST. Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won, By Philip's warlike son. Alofi, in awful state, the godlike hero sat On his imperial throne. His valiant peers-were placed around, The lovely Thais, by his side, Sat, like a blooming Eastern bride, None but the brave, none but the brave. Timotheus, placed on nigh, Amid the tuneful choir, With flying fingers-touched the lyre; The song-began from Jove, When he, to fair Olympia pressed, [the world. With ravished ears, the monarch hears; And seems to shake the spheres. The praise of Bacchus, then, the sweet musician The jolly god in triumph comes! He shows his honest face. [sung, The many rend the skies with loud applause; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain: And rouse him, like a rattling peal tànder. Hark hark!--the horrid sound [dei Hath raised up his head, as awake from the And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! [comes! Now, give the hautboys breath-he comes! he Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain. Bacchus' blessings are a treasure; Drinking is the soldier's pleasure. Rich the treasure; sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought his battles o'er again; [the slain. And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew The master saw the madness rise; He chose a mournful muse, soft pity to infuse, He sung Darius, great and good, [len, By too severe a fate, fallen, fallen, fallen, fal- And weltering in his blood. Deserted, in his utmost need, By those, his former bounty fed, On the bare earth-exposed he lies, With not a friend-to close his eyes.- With downeast look-the joyless victor sat, The various turns of fate below, The master smiled, to see, That love--was in the next degree; Softly sweet in Lydian measures, Take the good the gods provide thee. Or both-divide the crown; He-raised a mortal-to the skies; She-drew an angel down.-Dryden. ORATOR PUFF. Mr. Orator Puff-had two tones-in his voice, The one-squeaking thus, and the other down so; In each sentence he utter'd he gave you your choice, For one half was B alt, and the rest G below. Oh! oh! Oratar Puff, One voice for an orator 's surely enough. But he still talked away, spite of coughs and of frowns, So distracting all ears with his ups and his downs, That a wag once, on hearing the orator say, "My voice is for war," ," ask'd him, "Which of them, pray? Oh! oh! &c. Reeling homewards, one evening, top-heavy with gin, "Good Lord!" he exclaim'd, in his he-and-she tones, CHARACTER OF A GOOD PARSON. His preaching much, but more his practice wro't |