Book '-37 J, STERLING'S SOUTHERN ORATOR: CONTAINING 9*y STANDARD LECTURES IN PROSE AND .POETRY FOR DECLARATION AND RECITATION IN SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. BY Prof. RICHARD ^STERLING, A.M., PRINCIPAL OF EDGEWORTH FEMALE SEMINARY* * /•- 37 oweists j±nt> j^g-j^r, no wiLLiJ&i st. GREENSBORO, N. C. ! K. STERLING & SON. 1867. f>1 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by RICHARD STERLING, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the District of Cape Fear, of North-Carolina. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. PAGE Elocution..* « 19 Articulation . . . . 20 Inflection 25 Series 23 Parenthesis 29 Monotone . 29 Accent 29 Emphasis 30 Modulation 81 Pitch . . . . 32 Force 32 Quality 33 Pauses 34 Examples 36 Gesture 3T Declamation 39 STANDARD SELECTIONS. PART I. I>ROSE. 1. The Power of Eloquence James C. Dobbin 41 2. The Power of the Orator. Anonymous 42 3. A Free Press Curran 43 4. Famine in Ireland S. S. Prentiss, 44 5. Patriotism H. L. Pinckney 45 6. Apprehensions of Disunion William Pinkney 46 7. Daniel Webster H. W. Hilliard 47 8. The British Empire Macaulay 48 9. The Drunkard's Soliloquy Field's Scrap Book 49 10. Religion Mackenzie 50 11. The Union James McDowell 50 12. Earl of Chatham William Wirt 51 CONTENTS. PAGE 13. Intervention in European Wars Jeremiah Clemens 52 14. Missouri Compromise Robert Toombs 53 15. Texas and Alabama Samuel Houston 54 16. Hope for the Future R. M. T. Hunter 55 17. Popularizing Government Andrew Johnson 56 IS. National Progress H. S. Legare 56 19. State Pride W. W. Avery 57 20. The Necessity for Consuls Abroad John Perkins 58 21. Patient Industry Essential to Success Rev. Dr. Talmadge 59 22. The Destiny of America J. Story 60 23. The Price of Liberty is Perpetual Vigilance J. C. Calhoun 61 24. The Death of Hon. A. P. Butler A. H. Stephens 62 25. The Bane of Our Government John Bell 63 26. The Standard of Citizenship John Kelly 64 27. Restoration of Peace and Harmony R. P. Trippe x 65 2S. Preservation of the Union John Tyler. €6 29. Oliver Cromwell Rt. Rev. Bishop Atkinson. . . . 67 30. The Soldiers of the Revolution T. L. Anderson 68 31. The Close of a Patriot's Life William Wirt 68 32. Water J. B. Gough 69 33. Genius Portland Tribune 70 34. Extent of Country no Bar to Union Edmund Randolph 71 35. Henry Winter Davis A. J. Creswell 72 36. A Withering Invective S. S. Prentiss 73 37. Taxation for Defence J. C. Calhoun 74 38. The Love of Truth. Rev. James H. Thornwell 75 39. Alexander Hamilton J. G. Baldwin 76 40. Destiny of the United States H. W. Hilliard. 77 41. The Best Means for Securing Peace G. Morris 79 42. Union of Reason with Religion Rev. T. P. Davis 79 43. Scepticism B. F. Moore 80 44. Resources of a Cultivated Mind Rev. T. F. Davis 81 45. Avarice and Prodigality to be alike Avoided W. H. Battle 82 46. The True Philosopher's Stone George Davis 83 47. Importance of General Education W. B. Shepard 84 43. Man Responsible for his Belief Rev. W. S. Plumer 85 49. Short Words Rev. G. W. McPhail 86 50. Virtue and Intelligence will determine our Na- ) _ ,_ _, r J. Y. Mason 86 tional Destiny., 51. Importance of Female Society in the Improve- ) _ _ , „ * <■**■ i , m * [-James Iredell 87 ment of Mind and Character > 52. Queer People (Humorous) Anonymous 88 53. American Women J. Y. Mason 89 64. Washington and Clay R. M. Charlton 90 56. Profane Swearing Rev. R. Hall 91 5C. Opposition of the South to the Tariff. R. Y. Hayne 92 57. Alcohol Anonymous 93 68, Mind Rev. A. Baker 94 60. Genius and Liberty Rev. E. L. Magoon 95 60. Live for your State R. Gorrell 95 CONTENTS. PAGE 01. Our Safeguard against Delusion A. 0. P. Nicholson 06 62. American Progress II. W. Hilliard 97 63. From a Speech on Oregon W. H. Haywood 98 64. Private Character A. G. Brown 99 65. No Education Complete if it Neglects the Morals, ) _ _ , . ~, .. ( vv. A. (jratiam. iou Manners, and Affections ) 66. Importance of a Home Literature William Eaton, Jr 101 67. Hon. George E. Badger i R. P. Dick 101 68. Music ' Virginia Herald 102 69. The Soul of Man Saurin 103 70. The Bible our Chart W. B. Shepard 104 71. Progress of the Age E. Everett 105 72. Triumphs of Christianity Rev. H. B. Bascom 106 73. The Sentinels of Liberty Daniel Webster 107 74. Exhortation to Young Men William Eaton 108 75. The Duties of American Statesmen John Bell 109 76. Hon. Andrew P. Butler of S. C J. Y. Mason 109 77. The Dangers from Political Agitations A. G. Brown 110 78. The Right of Property M. R. H. Garnett Ill 79. The Law of God L. M. Keitt 112 80. The Temperance Reform J. B. Gough 112 81. Our Honored Dead R. P.Dick 114 82. The Pacific Railroad A. Pike 115 83. American Freedom T. F. Meagher 116 S4. Industry W. Lumpkin 117 85. Eulogy on Washington J. M. Mason US 86. The Murderer's Secret. . Daniel Webster 119 87. Sabbath-Schools Milford Bard 120 88. The Union A. P. Butler 121 89. False Courage William Ellery Channing 122 90. True Courage William Ellery Channing 123 91. Wealth E. A. Nisbet 123 92. Majesty of Intellect Rev. G. S. Weaver 124 93. Shall our Laurels Wither? A. P. Harcourt. 125 94. Man's Destiny G. D. Prentice 126 :po:et:r y. 95. The Little Orator Rev. T. M. Harris 127 96. The Power of Eloquence Tupper 128 97. My Boyhood J. G. Saxe 129 9S. Friendship Mrs. Norton 130 99. The Judgment Milman 131 100. Song of Marion's Men W. C. Bryant * 131 101. The Savoyard's Return H. K. White 133 102. To Friends in Heaven So. Lit. Messenger 134 103. Tell Me, ye Winged Winds Charles Mackay 135 104. Slander Mrs. Osgood 136 105. The Only Son of his Mother Mrs. M. J. Preston 137 106. " Eternal Art," to her Sister, M Science" P. H. Uayne 139 CONTENTS. PAGE 107. Monterey 7 C. P. Hoffman 140 10S. Daniel Webster O. W. Holmes 141 109. The Lily a Confidante Henry Timrod 142 110. The Confession (Humorous) Blackwood's Magazine 144 111. H. St. George and B. Tucker St. George Tucker 144 112. Competence .1 Bean Swift 145 113. A New Year's Wish So. Lit. Messenger 146 114. Tell among the Mountains J. Sr Knowles 147 115. The Past HenryTimrod 148 116. The Family Bible Anonymous 149 11T. The Light of the Ages Mrs. Gilman 150 118. Columbia, Remember thy Heroes J. G. Clark 151 119. Paddy's Metamorphosis (Humorous) Thomas Moore 152 120. Books A. J. C 153 121. Lines to a Southern Lady Emeline S. Smith 154 122. The Union and the Constitution J. R. Thompson 155 123. The Heart and the Bird .A. B. Meek 156 124. The Funeral of Henry Clay Mrs. M. B. Clarke 157 125. Christopher Columbus J. Barron Hope 158 126. The Mythology of Greece J. G. Percival 159 127. Seneca Lake J. G. Percival 160 128. After Anonymous 161 129. Female Patriotism J. R. Thompson 161 130. Stanzas on Death Anonymous 162 131. Autumn P. H. Hayne 163 132. Bad Habits Isabella R. Byrne 164 133. The Unknown So. Lit. Messenger 165 134. A Summer Scene Isaac Watts 166 135. Meeting of Satan and Death Milton 166 136. Wolsey's Soliloquy Shakespeare 167 137. The True Source of Happiness Dr. Johnson 168 13S. Under the Snow J. H. Bonner 169 139. King Richard So. Lit. Messenger 170 140. Solitude Robert Pollok 171 141. To my Mother W. R. Wallace 172 142. Time G. D. Prentice. 173 143. Eve's Lament Milton 174 144. Man Young 174 145. The Better Land Mrs. Hemans 175 146. The Removal (Humorous) Anonymous 176 147. Hope Campbell 177 148. The Bereft Mrs. M. A. Miller 178 1 V.). Honor to our Workingmen II. C. Preuss 179 150. American Aristocracy (Humorous) ; J. G. Saxe 181 151. The Sunny South The Land We Love 181 162. The Little Boy that Died J. II. Robinson 182 168. The Death of Warren Epes Sargent 184 154. Robert Emmet Anonymous 185 105. Hagar in the Wilderness N. P. Willis 186 CONTENTS. DIALOGUES. PAGE 156. The Two Robbers Aikin 188 157. Lovegold and James. Fielding 1S9 158. The Monster of Many Names Anonymous 191 159. Gessler and William Tell J. S. Knowles 193 160. The Peruvian Soldier ^R. B. Sheridan 195 161. Pursuits in Life. * Z. B. Sturgus 19T PART II. 162* Polite Literature James C. Dobbin 201 163. The Influence of Lofty Thoughts .....A. Pike 202 164. Christianity more than a Philosophy Rev. B. M. Palmer, D.D 203 165. The Future of our Country H. W. Miller 205 166. Achievements of our Fathers . .Dr. John Hill 206 167. The Moral Element in Literature Rev. George Howe, D.D 207 168. The Warnings of History. Anonymous 208 169. National Justice B. F. Moore 209 170. The Highest Knowledge Alexander H. Sands 210 171. Character of the True Child of God Rev. T. V. Moore, D.D 211 172. Respect the Foundation of National Friendship . . . Z. B. Vance 213 173. Filial Duties Charles Manly. 215 174. Religion and Medicine. .Rev. T. V. Moore, D.D 216 175. Development of Southern Resources W. H. Garland 218 176. Moral Wrong not left Unpunished M. B. Smith 220 177. Defence of a Client S. S. Prentiss 222 178. Homestead Bill— 1858 Andrew Johnson 223 179. Government B. R. Wellford. 224 180. The Bible and Civil Law Rev. T. V. Moore, D.D 225 181. Obstacles to Compromise— 1861 S. A. Douglas 227 182. The Death of Hamilton Dr. Mason.. 223 183. Human' Excellence not Self-born George Davis 230 184. The Improvement of Conscience Rev. W. M. Wingate 231 185. Duelling Rev. E. Nott, D.D £34 1S6. On the Increase of the Army. Jefferson Davis 235 187. Expansibility of the Government of the United \ gtat f James M. Mason 236 188. A Defence of Webster J. M. Clayton 237 189. National Monument to Washington R. C. Winthrop 239 190. The Hungarian Exile Louis Kossuth 240 191. An Appeal for the Orphan H. A. Wise 241 192. The Necessity for the Union as it Was ..J. L. Dawson 242 193. The Folly of Infidelity Dr. Dwight 244 194. The Surprise of Death Massillon 246 195. The Bible above all Price Rev. Edward Payson 247 196. Death of Hon. HughL. White W. C. Preston 249 197. Military Genius of Washington R. M. T. Hunter 251 CONTENTS. PAGE 198. Death of William Wirt Daniel Webster 251 199. The Sure Road to Success William Gaston 252 200. Intemperance Edward Everett 254 201. Close of Washington's Life W. G. Clark 255 202. Christianity Rev. B. M. Palmer, D.D 256 203. Heroes of Moore's Creek. ...J. G. Wright 257 204. British Aggression J. H. Hammond 258 205. Death of Henry Clay J. J. Breckinridge 260 206. Death of Daniel Webster L. Preston 261 207. An Eloquent Peroration Reverdy Johnson 262 208. Davie and Moore A. D. Murphey 263 •209. Sufferings of the South G. Dawson 265 210. Memorial of the Young Men of Philadelphia S. L. Southard 266 211. Gen. Samuel Houston Thomas H. Benton 268 212. Eulogy on Henry Clay Rev. C. M. Butler, D.D 269 213. Virginia D. W. Voorhees 270 214. Plea for the Union— 1850 Henry Clay 271 215. Funeral Address at the Grave of Elisha Mit- \ ^ fc Rey j H Q tey p p 2*72 chell,D.D ) 216. British Refugees Patrick Henry 273 217. Remedy for Sectional Hostility G. Dawson 275 218. Monument to Henry Clay T. F. Marshall 276 219. Intemperance of Party William Gaston 278 220. Adams and Jefferson Joseph Story 279 221. Retributive Justice Thomas Corwin 280 222. The South— 1850 Jefferson Davis. 283 223. The Massacres of Alamo and Goliad Thomas H. Benton 284 224. Famine in Ireland Henry Clay 285 225. The Currency J- C. Calhoun 287 226. The Indians Silas Wright 288 227. France and the United States General Washington 290 228. The South during the War of 1812 R. Y. Hayne 291 229. Defence of the Supreme Court J. S. Black 292 230. Necessity of Education in the United States O. N. Odgen 296 >231. The Pitiable Condition of Ignorance W. W. Hageman 297 232. Blind Devotion to Party F. W. Pickens 299 233. Relief for the Bankrupt N. P. Tallmadge 300 234. Equal Rights John Letcher 301 235. A Cultivated Mind in Old Age Rev. Thomas F. Davis 302 236. Terms of Reunion J. R. Doolittle 304 237. Origin of the Federal Government John Randolph 305 238. Patriotic Ambition Henry Clay 306 239. The Tariff— 1828 .George McDuffie 307 240. Assumptions of Power by France Miles Taylor 308 241. The Pleasures of Science R. M. T. Hunter 309 242. The Majesty of God Anonymous 811 213. Republics H. S. Legare 312 244. Eulogy on John C. Calhoun Daniel Webster 313 245. The Dignity of Labor W. L. Scott 314 210. Christianity and Infidelity in Contrast Rev. S. Robinson, D.D 315 247. Obstacles in the Way of the Spread of the Gospel. .Rev. M. D. Hoge, D.D 317 CONTENTS. PAGE 248. Miseries of War W. M. Cocke 318 249. The Microscope and Telescope Edward Everett 320 250. American Literature James B. Shepard 321 251. An Appeal for the Union J. M. Berrien 322 252. Vindication of South-Carolina George McDuffie 323 253. Intemperance Rev. William Hooper, D.D . . . 324 254. The Same— Concluded " " " " 325 255. Religion, Union, and Liberty are our Heritage. . . Rev. James Craik, D.D 826 256. La Fayette J. Q. Adams 327 257. Chief-Justice Taney J. P. Benjamin 323 25S. The Birthday of Washington Rufus Choate 329 259. American Independence R. H. Lee 330 260. The Lone Star of Texas Webb 331 261. Address to His Soldiers M. B. Lamar 333 262. The Teacher Lord Brougham 334 263. Description of Junius Edmund Burke 335 264. Prospect of War— 1811 J. C. Calhoun 336 265. On the Annexation of Texas Alexander H. Stephens 337 266. An Appeal for the Union John A. Gilmer 339 267. General Zachary Taylor Henry W. Miller 341 268. The Duty of Educated Men George E. Badger 343 .269. Energy Alexander H. Stephens 844 270. Defence of Jefferson Henry Clay 816 271. War with France J.' J. Crittenden, 347 272. Restoration of the Union J. L. Dawson 343 273. The South-American Republics Daniel Webster 350 274. Confiscation of Government Debts John Randolph 352 275. Adams and Jefferson Edward Everett 354 276. The People are Jealous of their Liberty E. Livingston 355 277. The Bonnie Blue Flag A. L. White 856 278. The Sword T. S. Grimke 357 279. Education C. Phillips 358 250. Against Adopting the Federal Constitution Patrick Henry 860 251. The Same— Continued " " 361 252. Expunging Resolution in U. S. Senate— 1837 Henry Clay 363 253. Government Extravagance J. J. Crittenden 364 254. Defalcation and Retrenchment S. S. Prentiss 365 255. Clay and Webster Mr. Taylor 366 286. The Union M. W. Ransom 367 287. The South S. Caruthers 363 288. Valedictory Address to the Senate Henry Clay 370 2S9. Governor Morehead as a Lawyer W. L. Scott 371 290. The Union and the Constitution A. J. Rogers 873 291. The President and the Constitution M. Strouse 376 292. The Radical Party in Congress F. P. Blair 377 293. Altering the Virginia Constitution John Randolph 350 294. Ultra Republicanism William Pinkney 881 295. Bloody Brook Edward Everett 3S3 296. The Weapon of Suffrage Edwin Forrest 3S4 297. Cherish True Pride of Country D. M. Barringer 3S6 298. The Treaty-Making Power William Pinkney SOT 10 CONTENTS. PAGB 299. The Results of Our Institutions Alexander H. Stephens 388 800. Effects of Intemperance. Henry W. Miller 390 301. The Dangers from Mobocracy H. L. Pinckney 392 302. The Human Mind John Tyler ;. 393 303. God in Creation .Rev. J. Henry Smith 395 IP O E T R Y. 304. Education St. George Tucker 397 305. Immortality Richard H. Dana 398 306. Marmion and the Douglas Walter Scott 399 307. Sabbath Evening George D. Prentice 401 30S. The Soul's Defiance Anonymous 402 309. Night J. Montgomery. 403 310. Liberty of Athens J. G. Percival. 405 311. A Short Sermon Henry Ellen 406 312. Home Again So. Lit. Messenger 408 313. Dreams of My Childhood Anonymous 410 314. Italy Edward C. Pinkney 411 315. Song of the Stars W. C. Bryant 412 316. The Mother of Washington Mrs. Sigourney 414 317. Anthony and Cleopatra W. H. Lytle , 415 318. Hugh Miller St. George Tucker 416 319. Death of Dr. Kane John E. Cooke 418 320. Deity So. Lit. Messenger 419 321. The Wayside Cross on the Alps W. T. Wallis 422 322. Spring-Time Rev. J. C. McCabe 423 323. My Home is the World T. H. Bayly 424 324. Pilgrimage of the Huguenots from France to ) „ 4 * ,. fW. T.Grayson 426 South-Carolina ' 325. Greece Estelle A. Lewis 427 326. Character of Henry Clay J. R. Underwood 429 327. The Wants of Man J. Q. Adams 430 328. The Same— Continued " " 432 329. The Same— Continued " " 434 330. The Met-ta-wee Emeline S. Smith 436 331. Cousins W. M. Praed 437 332. Virginia Maria G. Buchanan 439 333. Benedict Arnold W. Gilmore Simms 440 334. Shipwreck by Drink Thomas Heywood 441 335. The Woes of Modern Greece H. T. Farmer 442 886. The American Eagle So. Religious Telegraph 444 337. Calhoun W. Gilmore Simms 445 333. Fhaving Anonymous 446 889. Darkness Byron 413 310. Dreaming— not Achieving So. Lit. Messenger 449 841. Ambition N.P.Willis 451 842. The Anthem of Heaven Philo Henderson 452 Morning J. M. Lovejoy 453 844. Washington George II. Calvert, ..,.„. 455 846. The Color-Bearer Mrs. M. J. Preston 456 CONTENTS. 11 PAGE 346. Raphael's Account of Creation Milton 459 34T. The Dying Year Mrs. S. M. Chunn 440 348. Pleasures of a Picnic Party (Humorous) Thomas Hood 462 349. Launching of the Ship H. W. Longfellow 463 350. Taste Akenside 466 351. Major Brown (Humorous) Thomas Hood 467 352. Love and Murder (Humorous) *. Anonymous 469 353. The Last Man Campbell. 471 DIALOGUES. 354. Quarrel between Brutus and Cassius Shakespeare 473 355. Banishment of Catiline S. Croly. 477 356. Home and Love Miss Mitford 480 357. Dress and Assurance Bronson's Elocution 482 358. The Thing that's Right Anonymous 4S5 359. From the Comedy of " Money " Bulwer 487 360. Scene from Pizarro R. B. Sheridan 490 361. Claudia Pleading for her Husband Miss Mitford 492 362. Miller of Mansfield Anonymous 494 863. Baffled Revenge Shakespeare 497 ^Li>i>E]sri> i x. Subjects for Composition 503 Questions for Discussion 509 Introduction to Declaration of Independence 514 Declaration of Independence 514 Constitution of the United States 518 Washington's Farewell Address. 530 INDEX OF AUTHORS. The figures opposite the names in the following Index designate the articles of which the person named is the author. ARTICLE Adams, Hon. John Q Mass 256, 327, 328, 329 Aikin, John Eng 156 A. J. C 120 Akenside, Mark Eng 350 Anderson, Hon. T. L Mo 30 Atkinson, Rt. Rev. Thomas H N. C 29 Avery, Hon. W. W N. C 19 Anonymous. ... 2, 52, 57, 116, 128, 130, 146, 154, 158, 168, 242, 308, 313, 338, 352, 358, 362 Badger, Hon. George E N. C 268 Bayly, Thomas H Eng 424 Baker, Rev. A N. C 53 Baldwin, Hon. J. G Ala 39 Barringer, Hon. D. M N. C 297 Bascom, Rev. H. B Ky 72 12 CONTENTS. ARTICLE Battle, Hon. W. H N. C 45 Bell, Hon. John Tenn 25, 75 Benjamin, Hon. J. P La 257 Benton, Hon. T. H Mo 211, 223 Berrien, Hon. J. M Ga 251 Black, Hon. J. S Pa 229 Blair, Gen. F. P Mo 292 Bonner, John H N. C 138 Breckinridge, Bon. J. J Ky 205 Brown, Hon. A. G Miss 64, 77 Bronson's Elocution 357 Brougham, Lord Eng 262 Bryant, W. C N. Y 100, 315 Bulwer, Sir L Eng 359 Buchanan, Maria G Mo. . . 332 Burke, Hon. E Eng 263 Butler, Hon. A. P S. C 88 Butler, Rev. C. M., D.D Chap. U. S. Senate 212 Byrne, Isabella R Md 132 Byron, Lord Eng 339 Calhoun, Hon. J. C S. C 23, 37, 225, 264 Calvert, George H Md 344 Campbell, Thomas Scot 147, 353 Caruthers, Hon. S Mo 287 Channing, W. E R. I 89, 90 Charlton, Hon. R. M Ga 54 Choate, Hon. Rufus Mass 258 Chunn, Mrs. S. M N. C. . m 347 Clarke, Mrs. M. B N. C 124 Clark, James G N. Y 118 Clark, W. G Pa 201 Clay, Hon. Henry Ky 214, 224, 238, 270, 2S2, 2SS Clayton, Hon. J. M Del 188 Clemens, Hon. Jeremiah Ala 13 Cocke, Hon. W. M Tenn.. 248 Cooke, John E Va 319 Corwin, Hon. Thomas Ohio 221 Craik, Rev. James, D.D Ky 255 Creswell, Hon. A. J Md 35 Crittenden, Hon. J. J Ky 271, 283 Croly, S 355 Curran, Hon. J. P Ir 3 Dana, Richard II Mass. . 305 Davis, lion. Jefferson Miss 186, 222 Davis, Hon. George N. C 46, 183 Davis, Rev. T. F N. C 42, 44, 235 Dawson, Hon. G (Ja 209, 217 Dawson, Hon. J. L Pa 192, 272 CONTENTS. 13 ARTICLE Dick, R. P., Esq N. C 67,81 Dobbin, Hon. James C N. C 1, 162 Doolittle, Hon. J. R Wis 236 Douglas, Hon. S. A Ill 181 Dwight, Rev. T., D.D Mass 193 Eaton, Hon. William N. C 66, 74 Ellen, Henry S. C 311 Everett, Hon. Edward Mass 71, 200, 249, 275, 295 Farmer, H. T S. C 335 Field's Scrap Book 9 Fielding, Henry Eng 157 Forrest, Edwin Pa 296 Garland, Hon. W. H La 175 Garnett, Hon. M. R. H Va 78 Gaston, Hon. William N. C 199, 219 Gilman, Mrs Mass 117 Gilmer, Hon. J. A N. C 266 Gough, John B Eng 32, 80 Graham, Hon. William A N. C 65 Grayson, W. T S. C 324 Grimke, T. S S. C 27S Hall, Rev. Robert Eng 55 Hageman, W. W .-.- 231 Hammond, Hon. J. H S. C 204 Harcourt, A. P Ky 93 Harris, Rev. T. M Mass 95 Hayne, Hon. R. Y S. C ' 56,223 Hayne, Paul H S. C 106, 131 Haywood, Hon. W. H N. C 63 Hemans, Mrs Eng 145 Henderson, Philo N. C 342 Henry, Patrick Va 216, 2S0, 2S1 Herald, Virginia Va 6S Heywood, Thomas Eng 334 Hill, Dr. John N. C 166 Hilliard, Hon. H. W Ala 7,40, 62 Hoffman, C. F N. Y 107 Hoge, Rev. M. D., D.D Va 247 Holmes, O. W Mass 10S Hood, Thomas Eng 343, 351 Hooper, Rev. William, D.D N. C 253, 254 Hope, J. Barron Va 125 Houston, Hon. Samuel Texas 15 Howe, Rev. George, D.D S. C 167 Hunter, Hon. R. M. T Va 16, 197, 241 Iredell, Hon. James N. C 51 14 CONTENTS, ARTICLE Johnson, Hon. Andrew Tenn 17, 1T8 Johnson, Dr. Samuel Eng 137 Johnson, Hon. Reverdy Md . . . 207 Keitt, Hon. L. M S. C 79 Kelly, Hon. John N. Y 26 Knowles, J. S It 114, 159 Kossuth, Louis Hungary 190 Lamar, Hon. M. B Texas. 261 Land We Love N. C 151 Lee, Hon. Richard H Va 259 Legar6, Hon. H. S S. C 18,243 Letcher, Hon. John Va 234 Lewis, Estelle A Md 325 Livingston, Hon. Edward N. Y 276 Longfellow, H. W Me 349 Lovejoy, J. M N. C 343 Lumpkin, Hon. W Ga 84 Lytle, Gen. W. H U.S. A 317 Macaulay, Lord T. B Eng 8 Mackay, Charles Eng 103 Mackenzie, H .Scot. 10 Magazine, Blackwood's Scot 110 Magoon, Rev. E. L Va 59 Manly, Hon. Charles N. C 173 Marshall, Hon. T. P Ky. 218 Mason, Hon. John Y Va 50, 53,76 Mason, Hon. Jame^M Va 85, 187 Mason, Rev. C, D.D N. Y 1S2 Massillon Fr 194 McCabe, Rev. J. C ...Va 322 McDowell, Hon. James Va 11 McDuffie, Hon. George S. 239, 252 McPhail, Rev. G. W., D.D N. C 49 Meagher, T. P Ir 83 Meek, Hon. A. B Ala. 123 Messenger, So. Lit Va. . 102, 113, 133, 139, 312, 320, 340 Milford Bard 87 Miller, Mrs. Mary A N. C 148 Miller, Henry W. , Esq N. C 165, 267, 300 Milman Eng 99 Milton, John Eng 135, 143, 346 Mitford, Miss M. R Eng 356, 361 Montgomery, James Eng 309 Moore, B. F., Esq N. C 43,169 Moore, Thomas Ir 119 Moore, Rev. T. V., D.D Va 171, 174, 180 Morris, Hon. George P N. Y 41 Murphey, Hon. A. D N. C 208 CONTENTS. 15 ARTICLE Nicholson, Hon. A, 0. P : . . . Tenn ; 61 Nisbet, E. A . Pa 91 Norton, Mrs Eng 93 Nott, Rev. E., D.D N. Y 165 Ogden, Hon. 0. N . . , La 230 Osgood, Mrs Mass 104 Otey, Rt. Rev. J. H., D.D Tenn 215 Palmer, Rev. B. M., D.D , La. 164, 202 Payson, Rev. Edward Me 195 Percival, James G .Ct 126, 127, 310 Perkins, Hon. John La 20 Phillips, C .Ir 279 Pickens, Hon. F. W S.«C 232 Pike, Gen. Albert .Ark. . . 82, 163 Pinckney, Hon. H. L S. C 5, 301 Pinkney, Hon. W . . . . Md 6, 294, 298 Pinkney, Edward G Md 314 Plumer, Rev. W. S., D.D ...S. C 43 Pollok, Robert Scot. 140 Praed, W. M Eng 332 Prentice, George D Ky 94, 142, 307 Prentiss, Hon. S. S Miss 4, 36, 177, 2S4 Preston, Mrs. M. J Va 105, 346 Preston, Hon. William C. S. C 196 Preston, Hon. L -. Ky 206 Preuss, H. Clay 149 Randolph, Hon. John Va 237, 274, 293 Randolph, Hon. E . . . Ya 34 Ransom, Mat. VV., Esq N. G 236 Robinson, Rev. Stuart, D.D Ky 246 Robinson, J. H Texas 152 Rogers, Hon. A. J N. J -290 Sands, Alexander H Ya 170 Sargent, Epes Mass 153 Saxe, J. G Yt 97, 150 Saurin, Rev. James Fr 69 Scott, W. L., Esq N. C 245, 239 Scott, Sir Walter Scot 306 Shakespeare, William Eng 136, 354, 363 Shepard, Hon. W. B N. C 47, 70 Shepard, James B N. C 250 Sheridan, R. B Ir 100,360 Sigourney , Mrs Ct 316 Simms, W. Gilmore S. C 333, 337 Smith, Emeline S N. Y 121, 330 Smith, Moody B N. C 176 Smith, Rev. J. Henry N. C 303 1G CONTENTS. ARTICLE Southard, Hon. S. L N.J 210 Stephens, Hon. Alexander H Ga 24, 265, 269,299 Story, Hon. Joseph Mass 22, 220 Strouse, Hon. M Pa 291 Sturgus, Z. B 161 Swift, Dean ...;... .Ir. 112 Talmadge, Rev. Dr Ga 21 Tallmadge, Hon. N. P. N. Y 233 Taylor, Hon. Miles La 240 Taylor, Hon. Mr Ohio 285 Telegraph, So. Religious Ga 336 Thornwell, Rev. J. H., D.D S. C 38 Thompson, John R Va 122, 129 Tirarod, Henry S. C 109, 115 Toombs, Hon. Robert Ga 14 Tribune, Portland Me 33 Trippe, Hon. R. P Ga 2T Tucker, St. George Va Ill, 304, 318 Tupper, M. F 96 Tyler, Hon. John Va. 28, 302 Underwood, Hon. J. R Ky 326 Vance, Gov. Z. B N. C 172 Voorhees, Hon. D. W Ind 213 Wallace, William R Ky 141 Wallis, W. T .Md 321 Washington, General Va 227 Watts, Isaac Eng 134 Weaver, Rev. G. S 92 Webb 260 Webster, Hon. Daniel Mass 73, 86, 198, 244, 273 Wellford, B. R. , Esq Va. 179 White, Henry K Eng 101 White, Alexander L Ala 277 Willis, N. P N. Y 155, 341 W r ingate, Rev. W. M N. C 184 Winthrop, Hon. R. C Mass 189 Wirt, Hon. William Va 12, 31 Wise, Gov. Henry A Va 191 Wright, J. G N. C 203 Wright, Hon. Silas N. Y 226 Young, Edward Eng 144 PREFACE. The design of the present volume needs no explanation. The com- piler has had two oojects in view : First, to make a collection of short and spirited pieces, adapted to school and college declamation. Second, to furnish, for the most part, selections entirely new. He has long been satisfied that a new collection was desired by both teachers and students. While he has aimed to introduce nothing that is not excellent in itself, at the same time the number of authors represented has secured every variety of style in composition and declamation. The book may be also used as a Rhetorical Reader in the higher classes in schools and academies. The introduction differs little from that found in the higher Readers by the same author. This uniformity is designed. Only such addi- tional topics have been inserted as the peculiar object of this volume demanded. The body of the work is divided into two parts. Part I. is designed especially for the use of students in preparatory schools. The pieces are short and easily declaimed. Part II. contains longer articles, requiring more experience and ^skill to declaim them properly. They are adapted to more advanced students. To aid inexperienced writers and debaters, he has added in the Ap- pendix a large collection of subjects for compositions, and questions for discussion. The utility of this addition is apparent to all who are fa- miliar with the difficulties encountered by youth in their first efforts at 18 PREFACE. composition and debate. The Appendix also contains the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution of the United States, and Washing- ton's Farewell Address. With these three documents eveiy American youth should be familiar. This work was undertaken from a desire to contribute something to the improvement of that part of education which is so much neglected. The extent to which it promotes this object will be the measure of its success To the young men of the South who are now preparing for future usefulness and distinction this work is respectfully dedicated by the AUTHOR. Greensboro, N. C. INTEODUOTION". The grand aim of a public speaker should "be, so to give utterance to his sentiments as to be understood, and at the same time impart to it all the force, beauty, and variety of which it is susceptible. In order to attain this, it becomes necessary for every student to secure the most perfect elocution possible. While it is true that a knowledge of the most elaborate system of elocution will not of itself produce an orator, any more than an acquaintance with the laws of harmony will produce a musician, still it has its legitimate use in the science of oratory as in any other department of knowledge. The stu- dent of music attains excellence by continually practising the instruc- tions received from books and teachers ; and the voice receives that training that enables it to pass from one note to another with ease, ex- pression, and elegance. Now, precisely what the musician aims to at- tain by study and practice, must the student of oratory accomplish by the very same means. In every age of the world the orator has exerted a powerful influ- ence upon the destinies of mankind. Upon the American student the study of oratory has peculiar claims. Under our system of government, the highest positions of power and influence are within the reach of all, and the demands for skil] in public speaking are so frequent, so vari- ous, and so imperative, and at the same time productive of so many personal advantages, that few will venture to deny that the study of oratory should form an important part of the training of American youth. If a young man intends to secure success in life, and attain distinction and influence among men, he should cultivate with special assiduity a correct and impressive elocution — the crowning grace of a liberal education. " The culture of the vocal organs should keep pace with the culture of his mental powers. While acquiring a knowledge of literature and science, he should also form the habit of expressing his thoughts with propriety, grace, ease, and elegance." Eloquence, however, does not consist exclusively in a good elocution. Elocution concerns only the external part of oratory, and may be con- sidered both as a science and an art. As a science, it teaches the prin- ciples from which are deduced rules for the effective delivery of what is eloquent in thought and language ; as an art, it is the actual embody- ing in delivery of every accomplishment, whether of voice or of ges- ture, by which oratorical excitement is superadded to the eloquence of 20 INTRODUCTION. thought and language. In this last sense, it implies the cultivation of every external grace with which the delivery of language should be accompanied, whether in reading, recitation, or spontaneous utterance. As a science, then, it relates to the knowledge and the taste necessary to direct in the correct delivery of what is forcible in thought and ex- pression ; and as an art, to the ability practically to execute that which is dictated by a cultivated taste. It is not intended here to present a systematic treatise on the orator- ical art, but to furnish, as briefly as possible, such rules and suggestions as will aid the student in his efforts to attain this " crowning grace " of a complete education. Let it be borne in mind, however, that the parts of external oratory, as voice, look, gesture, are only instruments by which the soul acts ; when the inspiration of soul is absent, these instruments cannot produce eloquence. " One flash of passion on the cheek, one beam of feeling from the eye. one thrilling note of sensibility from the tongue, have a thousand times more value than any exemplification of mere rules where feeling is absent." All suggestions on this subject presuppose the existence of genius, mental discipline, and elevation of moral sen- timent. The parts of Oratory to be considered in their order are, Articulation, Inflection, Accent, Emphasis, Modulation, Pauses, and Gesture. ARTICULATION. Articulation is the art of uttering distinctly and properly the letters and syllables constituting a word. Without a clear and faithful artic- ulation, there can be no good elocution. Distinctness of articulation contributes more than mere loudness of sound to an audible and intel- ligible delivery. As soon as the student begins to read, he should be taught to enunciate his words with a full, round, clear voice. For the benefit of youthful pupils who have not used the primary books of this series, I annex the following exercises on the elementary sounds of the language, upon which depends the clear and distinct ar- ticulation of words. ELEMENTARY VOWEL SOUNDS. A has five principal sounds : 1. As in fate, make, pave, awake. 2. As in fat, lamp, flag, decamp. 3. As in far, cart, bark, carpenter. 4. As in fall, salt, bald, befall. 5. as in care, snare, dare, fare. JEJho.8 four principal sounds: 1. As in mete, legal, fever, cedar. 2. As in met, bet, pebble, bench. 3. As in her, jerk, stern, subvert. 4. As in there, where, e'er. / has four principal sounds: 1. As in pine, hive, kite, viper. 2. As in pin, chin, hill, linen. 3. As in sir, girl, bird, extirpate. 4. As in machine, caprice, magazine. INTRODUCTION . 21 has six principal sounds : 1. As in no, tone, droll, noble. 2. As in not, bond, shop, robber. 3. As in nor, born, storm, corpulent. 4. As in move, tooth, approval. 5. As in done, love, monk, mother. 6. As in wolf, took, woman. U has five principal sounds : 1. As in tube, duke, pure, human. 2. As in tub, drum, tuft, bundle. 3. As in fur, surf, turk, concur. 4. As in fall, push. 5. As in rude, conclude, pollute. T has three principal sounds : 1. As in type, my, tyrant, lyre. 2. As in hymn, strychnine. 3. As in myrrh, myrtle. W has the sound of u long, as in new. These vowels have also what is called the slight or obscure sound ; and in some words derived from foreign languages retain the sounds peculiar to those languages. A union of two vowels in one sound is called a diphthong ; as oi in oil, oy 'in boy, ou in round, ow in cow. A union of three vowels in one sound is called a triphthong ; as eau in beau. ELEMENTARY CONSONANT SOUNDS. B has but one sound, as in bad, ball, robber, mob. After m and before t it is silent ; dumb, lamb, debt, listen. G has two sounds : the hard, like k in call, colt, cottage ; and the soft, like s, as in cell, cider, cymbal. It has the hard sound before a, o, u, I, r, and t, as in case, cob, cure, clean, cry, strict ; the soft sound before e, i, and y, as in cell, tacit, cypress. At the end of a word it is always hard, as in music ; and before k it is silent, as in back, thick. D has one sound, as in day. At the end of a word, after a silent e, it sometimes has the sound of t, as fixed, pronounced fixt. i^has one sound, as in fat ; except in of it has the sound of v. G has two sounds : it is hard before the letters a, o, u, I, and r, and at the end of a word, as in gate, go, gun, glad, grow, bag ; and gen- erally soft before e, i, and y, as in gem, giant, gypsum. Before m and n it is silent, as in gnaw, phlegm. His merely a breathing, as in hate. It is silent at the beginning of many words, and generally after g and r ; and at the end of a word, when preceded by a vowel. iThas the sound of c hard. Before n it is always silent, as in knife, L has one sound, as in hill. It is often silent. M has one sound, as in man. AT has two sounds : the simple, as in not ; and the nasal, as in finger, sink. P has one sound, as in pin. Before n, s, and t, at the beginning of a word, it is silent. 22 INTRODUCTION. Q has but one sound. It is always followed by U, and has the sound of k or kw, as in coquette, queen. R has two sounds : the rough, as in run ; and the smooth, as in arm. S has two principal sounds : the sharp, as in hiss ; and the flat, like z, as in his, rise. It has also the sound of sh, as in sure, and of zh, as in measure. T has one principal sound, as in not. When followed by ia, ie, and io, it often combines with the i, and has the sound of sh, as in partial, patient, nation. V has one sound, as in vine. W, at the beginning of a word or syllable, is a consonant, and is silent before r, as write, bewray. X has three sounds : like ks in wax, gs in exalt, and z in Xerxes. T, when a consonant, has one sound, as in yet. Z has one principal sound, as in zone. It sometimes has the sound of zh, as in azure. Ch has three sounds : like tsh in chain,- like sh in machine, and like k in chord. Gh has three sounds : like g in ghost, like / in cough, and like k in hough. The letters ough have a variety of dissimilar sounds, as may be seen in the following stanza : Tis not an easy task to show How ough sounds ; since, though An Irish lough and English slough, And cough and hiccough, all allow, Differ as much as though and through, There seems no reason why they do. Ph generally has the sound of/, as in physic; in Stephen it has the sound of v. Th has two sounds : the hard or aspirate, as in thin ; and the soft or flat, as in this. Wh is sounded as if written hw, as in when, whip. The following table of Tonics, Subtonics, and Atonies, as arranged by Dr. Rush, is annexed for the use of pupils of more matured capacities : TONICS. Tonics are elementary sounds, which have a distinct and proper tone, capable of being prolonged by the voice indefinitely. They are : A 1 as in make, I s as in hill. A 2 u lamp. O 1 " tone. A 8 " bark. O 2 " not. A 4 " fall. O 3 " storm. A 5 " snare. O 4 " move. E 1 " legal. U 1 " duke. E 2 " met. U 2 " drum. E 3 " stern. U 3 « turk. E 4 " there. U 4 " full. I 1 " hive. INTRODUCTION. 23 The Diphthongal Tonics axe : Ai as in ail. Ou as in oud. Oi as in oil. Io as in union. SUBTONICS. Subtonics have an independent sound of their own, but inferior to the tonics in fulness and power. They are : B as in bat. R as in rag. D as in dark. V as in vat. (x as in gun. Was in work. J as in judge. Y as in yet. L as in lull. Z as in zeal. M as in man. Ng as in English. N as in nun. Th as in them. Zk. as in azure. ATONICS. Atonies have no independent tone, and are uttered by a mere im- pulsion of the breath. They are : F as in fight. M as in mind P as in pit. N as in now. T as in task. L as in lily. K as in kid. Ch as in chat. S as in same. Sh as in shame. H as in hand. Th as in thin. R as in ride. Wh as in when. Frequent exercises on these elementary sounds will be found of great advantage to the student of elocution. Common errors in articulation may be avoided by observing the fol- lowing rules : Rule I. — Do not omit or obscure the sound of unaccented vowels in a word or syllable ; as, B'lief for belief ; hist'ry for history ; sep'rate for separate ; mem'ry for memory; particular for particular ; 'pear for appear ; ev'dent for evident Rule II. — Sound distinctly tlie consonants at the end of a word or syllable. Much of the indistinctness of articulation is caused by the neglect of this rule. The following are examples ; as : Readin' for reading ; sicif'ly for swiftly ; an' for and ; ban' for band; comman's for commands ; weps* for weptst ; thrus' for thrusts. Rule III.-— Avoid the substitution of one sound for another ; as> Wilier for willow ; produx for products; com-per-tent for competent ; mem-er-y for memory ; win-e-gar for vinegar ; tem-per-it for temperate ; chil-drin for children ; par-tic-er-lar for particular. Rule IV. — Avoid blending the last syllable of a word icith tlie first syllable of the next. 24 INTRODUCTION. Examples. A t anchor la dremofro mome. At anchor laid remote from home. Here — res e zed upon th' lapper verth, A youth tofor turnan tofa munknown. Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, A youth to fortune and to fame unknown. An indistinct articulation not only mars the beauty, but often per- verts the meaning, of a passage. Examples. Whom ocean feels through all her countless waves. Who motion feels through all her countless waves. He was trained in the religion of his fathers. He was strained in the religion of his fathers. My brothers ought to owe nothing. My brothers sought to owe nothing He built an ice house. He built a nice house. EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION. The flag of freedom floats once more aloft . His shrivelled limbs were shivering with the cold. Bound the rough and rugged rocks the ragged rascal ran. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory. He spoke disinterestedly, reasonably, philosophically. His falchion flashed along the Nile, His hosts he led through Alpine snows ; O'er Moscow's towers that blazed the while, His eagle flag unrolled and froze. From peak to peak, the racing crags among, Leaps the live thuweZer ; not/rom one lone cloud ; But every mountam wow hath found a tongue, And Jura answers /rom her misty s/iroud, Back to the joyous Kips, which call to her aloud. Thou that 6\ost scare the world with tempests set on fire, ne heavens with falling tf^underbofts, or fill's^ The swift dark whirlwind that uproot the woods, Where is the mortal, that forged not at the sight Of these tremendous tokens of thy power His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by ? And first one universal shriek there rushed, Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash Of echoing thunder ; and then — all was hushed, Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash Of billows : but at intervals there gushed, Accompanied with a convulsive splash, INTRODUCTION. 25 A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony. When the world is dark with tempests, when thunders roll and light- nings fly, thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at the storm. INFLECTION. Inflections are the bendings or slides of the voice, upward or down- ward, in reading or speaking. There are two inflections : the rising, marked (') ; as, Did you speak' ? And the falling, marked (') ; as, I did speak'. Sometimes both these inflections occur in the same question ; as, Will you go' or stay' ? In general, the rising inflection denotes that the sense is incomplete ; the falling, that it is complete. These slides may be exhibited in writing the word as follows : Did you say N> S • or Does he read cor-^-^- If you said yes, I said no. To be read thus : If you said y e y I said e In the following sentences, the first member has the rising, and the second the falling, inflection : Is he rich', or is he poor' ? Will the wounded man live', or will he die' ? Did you say Europe', or Asia* ? Shall I say plain', or pain* ? Blessed' are the poor in spirit* ; blessed' are the meek* ; blessed' are the peace-makers'. Let your light so shine before men', that they may see your good works', and glorify your Father' which is heaven*. In the following sentences, the first takes the falling, and the second the rising, inflection : He acted properly', not improperly'. He is well', not sick'. He talked rationally', not irrationally'. He said turn', not urn'. He went home', not abroad'. Who knoweth the power of thine anger' ? Even according to thy fear', so is thy wrath'. Though these marks always indicate the same kind of inflection, they by no means show the extent of the rise or fall. In some the voice has a very slight, and in others a very marked, upward or down- ward movement, depending upon the nature of the sentiment expressed. No definite rules can be given for the extent of the inflection. We 26 INTRODUCTION. must in all cases be guided by the intent of the utterance, rather than by its rhetorical form. RISING INFLECTION. Eule I. — Direct questions, or those ichich can be answered by yes or no, require the rising inflection ; but their answers, the falling. Examples. — Will you lend me those books' ? Yes\ Does the law condemn him' ? It does not*. Is he the God of the Jews only' ? is He not also of the Gentiles' ? Yes\ of the Gentiles also*. Does the gentleman suppose it is in his power', to exhibit in Caro- lina a name so bright' as to produce envy' in my bosom ? What ! while our arms can wield those blades', Shall we die tamely' ? die alone' ? Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens, To wash this crimson hand as white as snow' ? Exception. — If these questions are repeated with peculiar emphasis, they take the falling inflection. Example.— Where did you find these flowers*? In the lawn*. Where did you say* ? In the lawn'. When, however, a word or sentence is repeated as a kind of interro- gatory exclamation, the rising inflection is used according to the rule. Example. — He is called the friend* of virtue. The friend' ! ay ! the enthusiastic lover*, the elevated protector* rather. Rule II. — The pause of suspension, in incomplete sentences, generally takes the bising inflection. Examples. — The young', the healthy', and the prosperous' should not presume on their advantages 1 . To sit up late at night', to use intoxicating drinks', and to indulge evil passions', are things not permitted in this school. His adventures', his toils', his privations', his sufferings', his hair- breadth escapes', and his struggles for victory and liberty', are all remembered. Note. — Direct address made to a person or thing falls under this rule ; as, Officers', soldiers', friends', Americans', our country must be free. Fathers' ! we meet again in council. Rule III. — Expressions of tenderness, as of grief or kindness, com- monly take the rising inflection. Examples. — O my son Absalom', my son', my son Absalom' ! would to God I had died for thee', Absalom', my son', my son ! O noble friend' ! Thy self-denial is wonderful' ! Thy deeds of char- ity are innumerable' ! 'Never will I forget thee' ! Then Judah came near unto him, and said', O my lord', let thy ser- vant', I pray thee', speak a word in my lord's ears', and let not thine anger burn against thy servant', for thou art even as Pharaoh v FALLING inflection. Rule IV. — Questions ichich cannot be answered by yes or no take the falling inflection. INTRODUCTION. 27 Examples. — How many lessons have you learned' ? Three*. When did he go* ? Yesterday\ Whither have you led me v ? and to whom do these beautiful crea- tures belong* ? Who said, " A wise man is never less alone than when he is alone N " ? Swift*. Note.— Answers to questions, when expressive of indifference, gener- ally take the rising inflection. Example. — Which do you prefer ? I have no choice'. Etjle V. — The falling inflection is generally used when the sense is complete. Examples. — Men generally die as they live* ! Keep thy heart with all diligence* ! Do not flatter yourself with the hope of perfect happiness*. There is no such thing in this world*. The air, the earth, the water, teem with delighted existence\ Swarms of new-born flies are trying their pinions in the air*. The insect youth are on the wing*. Note. — As a sentence generally ends with the falling inflection, the rising inflection is employed at the penultimate pause, or the last pause but one, in order to promote harmony and variety of sound. Example. — The changing seasons declare the knowledge*, power*, wisdom', and goodness^ of Grod. Rule VI. — Language expressive of strong emotion, as of anger or surprise, of authority or reproach, requires the falling inflection. Examples. — Begone\ Run* to your houses, fall* upon your knees. fools* ! and slow of heart* to believe all that the prophets* have written concerning me* ! Rule VII. — An emphatic succession of particulars and emphatic repe- tition require the falling inflection. Examples. Hail* holy light* ! offspring* of heaven first born. The tear*, The groan*, the knell*, the bier*, And all we know* or dream* or fear*, Of agony, are thine. To arms v ! they come* ! the Greek v ! the Greek* ! 1 insist* upon this point* ; I urge* you to it ; I press* it, demand* it BOTH INFLECTIONS. Rule VIII. — When questions are connected fry on used disjunctively, the first requires the rising, and the second the falling inflection. Examples. — Does Napoleon merit praise' or censure* ! Is the book yours' or mine* ? Shall we return to our allegiance while we may do so with safety and honor', or shall we wait until the axe of the executioner is at our throats s ? 28 INTRODUCTION". Rule IX. — When words or clauses are contrasted or compared, the first part usually has the rising, and the last the falling inflection. Examples. — I have seen the effects of love' and hatred *, joy' and grief \ hope' and despair *. To be' or not to be*, that is the question. There are also celestial' bodies, and bodies terrestrial* ; bnt the glory of the celestial v is one', and the glory of the terrestrial' is another *. The style of Dry den is capricious and varied' ; that of Pope is cau- tious and uniform*. Dry den obeys the motions of his own mind' ; Pope constrains his mind to his own rules of composition*. Dry den is sometimes vehement and rapid' ; Pope is always smooth, uniform, and gentle*. Note. — When one of the members of such clauses is negative and the other affirmative, generally the negative has the rising, and the affirmative the falling inflection. Examples. — Show your knowledge by your deeds*, not by your words'. You were paid to fight* against Alexander, not to rail at him'. Let us retract while we can*, not when we must/ CIRCUMFLEX. Circumflex is the union of the two inflections on the same word, beginning either with the falling and ending with the rising called the rising circumflex ; or beginning with the rising, and ending with the falling, called the falling circumflex. Rule X. — The circumflex is mainly employed in the language of irony, and in expressing ideas, implying some condition either expressed or understood. « Example. — He is a rare pattern of humanity. Queen. — Hamlet, you have your father much offended. Hamlet. — Madam, you have my father much offended. Man never is, but always to be, blest. They follow an adventurer whom they fear ; we serve a monarch • whom we love. series. A succession of particulars is called a series. When at the begin- ning of a sentence, it is called a Commencing Series ; when at the end of a sentence, it is called a Concluding Series. Rule XL — In general, the rules for inflection are to be observed. But for the sake of variety the last particular but one has the inflection oppo- site to the last. Examples. — My friends', my family*, and relations are all dead. For our health', life', possessions', connections*, and pleasures', there are causes of decay imperceptibly working. The verdant lawn*, the shady grove*, the variegated landscape*, the starry firmament*, and the boundless ocean', all tend to inspire us with a love of nature', and of nature's (jod*. INTRODUCTION. 29 PARENTHESIS. Rule XII. — Subordinate clauses and clauses in parenthesis are gen- erally spoken in a lower tone and more rapidly than the rest of the sen- tence. They should terminate with the same inflection that next pre- cedes it. Examples. — 1. God is my witness', (whom. I serve with my spirit, in the gospel of his Son',) that, without ceasing, I make mention of you always in my prayers, making request', (if, by any means, now, at length, I might have a prosperous journey by the will of God',) to come unto you. 2. When he had entered the room three paces, he stood still ; and laying his left hand upon his breast', (a slender, white staff with which he journeyed being in his right',) he introduced himself with the little story of his convent. MONOTONE. Monotone is the absence of inflection. It is denoted by a straight mark "~" over the word. It is confined chiefly to grave and solemn subjects, and, when properly employed, gives great dignity to delivery. Examples. — Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down. He fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stated I hail thee, as in gorgeous robes, Blooming, thou leav'st the chambers of the east, Crowned with a gemmed tiara thick embossed With studs of living light. ACCENT. Accent is the peculiar force given to one or more syllables of a word. The accent is usually marked thus ('). As a general rule, custom is our only guide in ascertaining the accented syllable. However, many words or parts of speech, having the same form, are distinguished by accent alone. Examples. Ab'sent — not present. Absent' — to withdraw, stay away. Au'gust — a month. August' — grand. Gallant — brave. Gallant' — a gay fellow. Adjectives and verbs are often distinguished from nouns by their accent; as, Desert' — the verb. Des'ert — the noun. Cement 7 " " Cem'ent " " Accent' " " Ac'cent " " The ordinary accent of words is sometimes changed by a contrast in the sense, or to express opposition of thought". Examples. — He must in'crease, but I must de'crease. I did not say a new ad'dition, but a new e'dition. Consider well what you have done, not what you have left un'done. This corruptible must put on in' corruption ; and this mortal must put on im'mortality. 30 INTRODUCTION. EMPHASIS. Emphasis is the stress of voice by which one or more words of a sentence are distinguished above the rest. This increased stress is, generally, not upon the whole word, but only on the accented syl- lable. Emphatic words are often printed in italics; those still more em- phatic, in capitals. By the proper use of emphasis, we are able to impart animation and interest to conversation and reading. Its im- portance cannot be overestimated, as the meaning of a sentence often depends upon the proper placing of the emphasis. Accent, inflection, and, indeed, every tiling, yields to emphasis. Blair furnishes the following illustration of the 'importance and nature of emphasis : Did you walk into the city yesterday? Ans. — No, my brother went. Did you walk into the city yesterday ? Ans. — No, I rode. Did you walk into the city yesterday ? Ans. — No, I went into the country. Did you walk into the city yesterday f Ans. — No, I went the day before. There are two kinds of emphasis : Absolute and Relative. ABSOLUTE EMPHASIS. Absolute emphasis is used to designate the important word of a sentence without any direct reference to other words. Examples. — I shall know but one country. The ends I aim at shall be my Country's, my God's, and Truth's. Speak out, my friends ; would you exchange it for the Demon's drink, Alcohol ? A shout, like the roar of a tempest, answered "Nor Oh, now you weep ; and I perceive you feel the dint of pity : these are gracious drops. Kind souls ! What, weep you when you but behold our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look ye here ! Here is himSELF, marred, as you see, by traitors. As Caesar loved me, I weep for him : as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it : as he was valiant, I honor him ; but as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honor for his valor, and death for his ambition. relative emphasis. Words are often emphasized in order to exhibit the idea they express, as compared or contrasted with some other idea. This is Ju lalive Emphasis. Examples. — Living, I shall assert it : dying, I shall assert it. It is much better to be injured than to injure. Without were fightings, within were fears. The young are slaves to novelty : the old, to custom : the middle-aged, to both : the dead, to neither. The wicked flee when no man pursueth ; but the righteous are bold as a lion. INTRODUCTION', 31 It is my living sentiment, and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment ; independence now, and independence forever. Ye worship ye know not what ; we know what we worship. Set honor in one eye, and death in the other, And I will look upon both indifferently. Religion raises men above themselves ; irreligion sinks them beneath the brutes, MODULATION. Modulation is the act of varying the voice in reading or speaking, as the subject or the emotions of the speaker demand. Among its more important divisions we enumerate Pitch, Force, Quality, and Rate. By close attention to ordinary conversation, we will discover that scarcely any two words are uttered in the same tone. They vary from some one point, ascending or descending like the notes of the scale in music. This is called the key-note. The position of the key-note varies in the scale according to the subject and the emotion of the speaker. It may be High, Middle, or Low. The degree in which the pitch is changed, and also the direction of that change, whether high or low, must depend in a great degree on the taste and judgment of the reader. Alow key is naturally adapted to the expression of solemnity, reverence, aw T e, fear, sadness, or when under the influence of any depressing passion. The high key is used in calling a person at a distance, or when the speaker is under the in- fluence of strong passion, as in levity, joy, boldness, anger. The middle key is adapted to simple narrative, and is used to express ordinary thought and moderate emotion. Any continued address in the same tone should be avoided. Rule I. — Let the reader or speaker choose that key-note most natural and easy to himself and above and below which he has most room for variation. Rule II. — Avoid monotony, or the continuation of the same tone throughout the sentence. This is one of the greatest and most common faults in elocution. It is proper to remark, however, that sometimes sentences occur that require a violation of this rule, as the following from Job : " In thoughts from the visions of the night, wdien deep sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake." Rule III. — Avoid an abrupt transition from a low to a high pitch when the language and sentiment do not warrant it. There is sometimes a regular sort of variation which has no connec- tion with the sense. A sentence is commenced vehemently, and then the voice tapers down w r ord by word till it reaches an almost inaudible pitch. A similar fault is often seen in the sing-song habit so common in reading poetry, where the variation has no reference to the sense. Rule IV. — The tones of the voice should always correspond with the nature of the subject. 32 INTRODUCTION. Thus, persuasion requires soft, insinuating tones : command, full and strong tones ; anger, harsh, irregular, and sometimes grating tones ; pity and sorroic, soft and plaintive tones. All the errors in tone which have been mentioned will be avoided, if the reader, guided by the sense, gives that emphasis, inflection, and ex- pression which are necessary to bring out the full meaning of his author. The human voice is susceptible of almost unlimited improvement in strength, compass, and flexibility. And the student must, if he would become perfect in the art of elocution, give it that time and attention which its importance demands. Examples. HIGH PITCH. Go ring the bells, and fire the guns, And fling the starry banners out ; Shout " Freedom !" till your lisping ones Give back their cradle shout. Joy, joy forever! my task is done, The gates are passed, and heaven is won ! Oh, am I not happy ! I am, I am ! Up drawbridge, grooms ! what, warder, ho ! Let the portcullis fall ! And Miriam answered them, Sing unto the Lord, for he hath tri- umphed gloriously ; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea. MIDDLE PITCH. The curfew tolls the knell of parting day ; The lowing herds wind slowly o'er the lea , The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. When the sun rises or sets in the heavens, when spring paints the earth, when summer shines in its glory, when autumn pours forth its fruits, or winter returns in its awful forms, we view the Creator mani- festing himself in his works. LOW PITCH. 'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence now Is brooding, like a gentle spirit, o'er The still and pulseless world. Hark ! on the winds The bells' deep tones are swelling ; 'tis the knell Of the departed year. I have but few words to say. I am going to my cold and silent grave. My lamp of life is nearly extinguished ; my race is run ; the grave opens to receive mo, and I sink into its bosom. FORCE. Force has reference to the volume or loudness of voice. Loudness of sound docs not always imply n high pitch or key. A person may INTRODUCTION. 33 speak with great force in a very low key, and very softly in a high one. The variations of force may be considered as three : the Soft, Middle, and Loud. The Soft is used to express caution, secresy, fear without guilt, mournfulness, despondency, and deep emotion. Example. Tread softly — bow the head — In reverent silence bow — No passing bell doth toll, Yet an immortal soul Is passing now. TheJUoderate is used in ordinary assertion, narration, and description. Example. — A man should never be ashamed to own he has been in the wrong ; which is but saying, in other words, that he is wiser to-day than he was yesterday. The Loud is used to express vehement emotion and violent passion. Example. And once again — Hear me, ye wails, that echoed to the tread Of either Brutus ! once again I swear The eternal city shall be free ! Adoration, admiration, solemnity, sublimity, dignity, require low, loud, slow tones ; revenge, loud aspirated tones ; courage, high, loud, and slow tones. QUALITY. Quality has reference to the kind of tone used in speaking. They are the Pure, the Orotund, the Aspirated, and the Guttural tones. The Pure Tone is a clear, smooth, full, flowing sound, accompanied with moderate pitch. This is appropriate to ordinary narrative, to joy, gayety, love, pathos, tranquillity, etc. Example. — How many bright eyes grow dim, how many soft cheeks grow pale, how many lovely forms sink into the tomb, and none can tell the cause that blighted their loveliness. There is joy in the mountain — the bright waves leap Like a bounding stag when he breaks from sleep ; Mirthfully, wildly they flash along — Let the heavens ring with song ! The Orotund Tone is a full, round, mellow, swelling tone of voice* It is peculiarly appropriate to sublimity, pathos, solemnity, rever- ence, etc. Example. 'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence now Is brooding, like a gentle spirit, o'er The still and pulseless world. Hark ! on the winds The bells' deep tones arc swelling ; 'tis the knell Of the departed year ! 34 INTRODUCTION. The Aspirated Tone is an abrupt, rough tone, produced by an ex- pulsion of the breath with more or less strength. It is used to express terror, amazement, horror, anger, revenge, remorse, and despair. Examples. But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a sounding knell ! But ill this taper burns ! Ha ! who comes here ? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, That mak'st my blood cold, and my hair to stand ? Speak to me what thou art ! The Guttural Tone is a deep, suppressed tone, used to express aver- sion, hatred, loathing, and contempt. Examples. Ho ! cravens ! do ye fear him ? Slaves! traitors! have ye flown'? Ho ! cowards ! have ye left me To meet him here alone ? Thou worm ! thou viper ! to thy native earth Return ! Away ! thou art too base for man To tread upon ! Thou scum ! Thou reptile ! PAUSES. Pauses are suspensions of the voice, used in readingypd speaking to attract attention to the emphatic idea, or to give the mind time to dwell upon it and give effect to the expression. There are three kinds of pauses, the Grammatical pause, and Rhetor- ical pause, which belong to both prose and poetry, and the Poetic pause, which is peculiar to poetry. The subject of Grammatical pauses has already been discussed in other volumes of this Series, and need not be here repeated. KHETOBICAI4 PAUSES. The Bhetorical Pauses occur chiefly before or after an emphatic word or phrase, and sometimes both before and after. No rule can be given for the length of these pauses. The correct taste of the reader must determine it. Pauses should generally be made in the following cases : 1. Before a compound nominative, and of ter a nominative consisting of a single word when emphatic ; as, • Joy and sorrow — move him not. Prosperity — gains friends, but adversity — tries them. 2. Before a relative clause, or clause equivalent to a relative ; as, This is the man — that loves me. Hypocrisy is the tribute — paid by vice to virtue. 3. A pause is required after words which are in apposition or opposi- tion to each other ; as, Solomon — the son of David — was king of Israel. INTRODUCTION. 35 False delicacy is affectation — not politeness. 4. Before a conjunction or conjunctive adverb ; as, But — it was reserved for Arnold — to blend all these bad qualities into one. 5. Before an infinitive mood, especially when equivalent to a clause ; as, He smote me with a rod — to please my enemy. 6. A pause is required when an ellipsis takes place ; as, To your faith add virtue ; to virtue — knowledge ; to knowledge — temperance ; to temperance — patience. 7. When a pari of a sentence is out of the natural order ; as, In adversity — men are tried. 8. After each word of an emphatic phrase ; as, Shall we try argument ? Sir, we have been trying that for the last —ten — years. These rules, though important if properly applied, are by no means complete ; nor can any be invented that are adapted to all the compli- cated relations of thought. The correct taste of the speaker will enable him to determine both when the rhetorical pause shall be used, and the duration of the suspension of voice. POETICAL PAUSE. In reading poetry, the spirit and meaning of a sentence should never be sacrificed to a mechanical adherence to pauses of structure. The slight pause at the end of each line, which renders prominent the melody, should never be so decided as to attract attention from the sense to the rhythm. There is another important pause near the middle of each line, called the caiswra, or csesural pause. The following lines will show this pause : Of all the causes — which conspire to blmd Man's erring judgment — and mislead the mind, What the weak head — with strongest bias rules, Is pride— the never-failing vice of fools. The csesural pause should never be so placed as to injure the sense, even to promote harmony. Sometimes, where the sense requires it, tico csesural pauses are pro- per; as, Soldier, rest ! — thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep — that knows no breaking ; Dreani — of battle-fields — no more, Days of danger — nights of waking. Sometimes three ca?sural pauses are admissible, the first and third being slight, and are called demi-ca?sural. The following lines afford an example : Our bugles-sang truce — for the night cloud-had lowered^ And the sentinel stars — set their watch — in the sky ; And thousands-had sunk — on the ground-overpowered ; The weary-to sleep — and the wounded-to die, 36 INTRODUCTION. Examples. O Muse ! — the causes and the crimes relate ; What goddess was provoked — and whence her hate, For what offence — the queen of heaven began To persecute so brave — so just a man ; Involved his anxious life — in endless cares, Exposed to wants — and hurried into* wars ! Can heavenly minds — such high resentment show, Or exercise their spite — in human woe ! O Sacred Truth ! — thy triumph ceased awhile, And Hope, thy sister — ceased with thee to smile, When leagued Oppression — poured to northern wars Her whiskered pandoors — and her fierce hussars, Waved her dread standard — to the breeze of morn, Pealed her loud drum — and twanged her trumpet horn ; Tumultuous horror — brooded o'er her van, Presaging wrath to Poland — and to man ! Warsaw's last champion — from her height surveyed, Wide o'er her fields — a waste of ruin laid. O heaven ! he cried — my bleeding country save ; Is there no hand on high — to shield the brave ? Rout, though destruction — sweep these lovely plains ! Rise, fellow-men ! — our country yet remains ! By that dread name — we wave the sword on high, And swear-for her to live — with her-to die ! In slumbers-of midnight — the sailor-boy lay, His hammock-swung loose — at the sport-of the wind ; But watch-worn-and weary — his cares-flew away, And visions-of happiness — danced-o'er his mind. She said-and struck ; — deep entered-in her side The piercing steel — with reeking purple dyed ; Clogged-in the wound — the cruel-weapon stands, The spouting blood — came streaming o'er her hands Her sad attendants — saw the deadly stroke, And with loud cries — the sounding palace shoom In reading or repeating poetry, great care should be taken to avoid nil appearance of affectation. Every syllable should have the same accent, and every word the same emphasis, as in prose. Accent and emphasis must never be sacrificed for the sake of melody. If the author has made his verse deficient in melody, the defect cannot be remedied by the speaker. The word wind, for example, should never have the long sound given to the i, so as to make it rhyme with mind. Poets frequently write what are called imperfect rhymes. No one will contend that tea, in the last line of the following couplet, should be pronounced tct/y : Where thou, great Anna, whom three realms obey, Dost sometimes eounse] take, and sometimes tea. INTRODUCTION. 37 GESTURE. It is not intended in the following observations to lay down any system of rules by which the youthful speaker is to be governed. Such attempts to regulate the expression of the face or the motions of the body are deemed worse than useless ; and, if attempted to be carried out by the student, will produce a constrained and awkward manner. At the same time there are some general directions of easy adoption, that will aid the pupil in acquiring an easy, graceful, and effective delivery. Under the term Gesture is embraced all that part, or delivery, or oratory which addresses itself to the eye. It includes, therefore, the expression of the countenance and the attitude, as well as those mo- tions of the limbs which give peculiar force to the sentiment uttered. Muscular action accompanying the expression of thought is perfectly natural. It is, next to tones, the very earliest language learned by the child. The orator who should attempt to deliver an address without the expression of countenance and action appropriate to the sentiment, would fail to produce any considerable effect upon his audience, how- ever elevated his thoughts or beautiful and chaste his language. The power of gesture consists wholly in its appropriateness to the emotion excited in the mind of the speaker. The body is the instru- ment of the soul ; the medium of expressing internal emotions. The soul speaks most intelligibly, so far as visible signs are concerned, through those muscles which are most ready to obey its dictates. Almost every emotion produces an involuntary effect, especially upon the muscles of the face, and has its own peculiar expression. There is a genuine sympathy between the real feelings of the heart and the ex- pression of the countenance. Lavater says : " When any passion is called into action, such passion is depicted by the motion of the mus- cles, and these motions are accompanied by a strong palpitation of the heart. If the countenance be tranquil, it always denotes tranquillity in the region of the heart and breast. " Every one. knows the difference between the cheerful aspect of innocence, the vivacity of intelligence, the charming languor of pity or grief, the scowl of misanthropy, the dark suspicion of guilt, the vacant stare of stupidity, or the hagorard frenzy of despair as expressed in the countenance. Benevolence or malignity, cheerfulness or melancholy, deep thought or frivolity, all put their imprint upon the human face, and can be counterfeited only with difficulty. So unequivocal is this language of the passions as depicted upon the countenance, that the child soon learns to look into the face of the parent or nurse to determine the real meaning of the words they may have used. It may be remarked, that he whose soul is so destitute of emotion as not to impart this expression to his countenance, or he whose ac- quired habits are so unfortunate as to frustrate this expression, what- ever qualities he may possess, lacks one grand requisite, to true elo- quence. The emotional expression on the countenance constitutes the medium by which the feelings of the speaker are transmitted to his audience, and he acquires a controlling influence over those he ad- dresses. Hence, the orator who would move others, must be moved himself: that is, he must express his emotions by his countenance and by his 38 INTRODUCTION. manner. It is of the first importance that the expression of the counte- nance should correspond with the utterance of the lips. The vacant stare, the unmeaning frown, the roving cast of the eye, working of the eye-brows, closing the eyes, are in direct contrast with that open, col- lected, manly expression of the face which gives point and power to delivery. I shall make but one suggestion on this subject. Avoid all distortions of countenance, and meaningless looks with the eye " bent on vacuity ;" and let the emotions of the soul beam forth upon the face. The position of the body and the motions of the hands and arms, as well as the expression of the countenance, have much to do with effective oratory. These motions, although impelled by the emotion of the soul, are nevertheless under the control of the will, and there- fore become the proper subjects of training and discipline. Much of the inelegance of position and awkward movements of the arms results from the natural embarrassment of the inexperienced speaker. The novelty of his situation destroys his self-possession ; his position be- comes constrained and awkward ; his arms and hands hang clumsily or stiffly, and he seems utterly at a loss what use to make of them. This embarrassment may be overcome gradually by practice, combined with a fixed determination on the part of the pupil to surmount the obstacles in the way of ultimate success. History furnishes many illustrations of the above remark. The great masters of oratory at- tained eminence, and triumphed over even natural defects of person, manner, and utterance by long and persevering self-discipline. Demos- thenes furnishes an illustrious example of what may be accomplished when there is a fixed resolve to succeed. What has been done may be done again. None need give up in despair, however unsatisfactory or mortifying their first efforts have been. The following suggestions will be found useful to the inexperienced : 1. In order to speak well, the orator must be able to stand well. He should hold himself erect and firm, with the chest expanded so as to give full action to the respiratory muscles and unconstrained move- ment to the vocal organs. 2. Let the attitude be the most easy and natural, so that it can be changed as the thoughts and emotions expressed may demand. Avoid all shuffling and jerking of the limbs in making changes in the posi- tion. As a general rule, it will be found that such changes in position will be most readily and gracefully effected when the weight of the body is made to rest mainly upon one foot, leaving the other free to be advanced or thrown backward, as the convenience of the speaker or the sentiment uttered may demand. 3. The principal feature in oratorical action is the appropriate use of the hands and arms. Let no movement of the hand be made that is not in accordance with the sentiment uttered ; for it is this harmony 1 hat constitutes propriety. For example : The Lands are stretched forward and clasped, when we entreat, ch, supplicate, or implore mercy. The right hand spread open expresses liberality, bounty. To shake the clinched list indicates anger, defiance, threat. The right fist struck upon the left hand is used to mock, chide, re- buke, reproach. INTRODUCTION. 39 The hand moved from us, with the palm outward, is the gesture of repulsion, aversion, and dismissal. The hands clasped or wrung indicate deep grief. The extended, open hand is expressive of welcome, approbation. In shame, the hand is placed before the eyes ; in joy, they are thrown up, widely apart ; in exultation and triumph, the right hand is waved above the head. The hand placed upon the mouth denotes silence ; on the head, pain ; on the breast, affection, or an appeal to conscience. When the thoughts flow calmly and sweetly, there should be the same easy flow of gesture and action. Where the style is sharp and abrupt, there is propriety in quick, short, and abrupt gesticulation. There are errors in the use of the hands and arms which should be carefully avoided : 1. All constrained movements of the arms proceeding only from the elbow, with the opposite fault of throwing the arm out straight and rigid, are always awkward. The action of the arm should be free, and proceed from the shoulder, though care must be taken that the elbow be neither straight nor rigid and stiff. 2. All movements which cause the hand to describe straight lines or angles should be avoided. The pupil should study variety and the grace of curved lines. The curve is emphatically the " line of beauty" when applied to the movements of the hand by the orator. A mere swing of the arm, however, though in a curved line, does not always constitute a graceful gesture. 3. It is a common fault to use only one arm, and to give that a uni- form motion. Both arms should be permitted to hang freely at the side, and both be used as the sentiment and good taste of the speaker may dictate. 4. The inward sweep of the arm is rarely appropriate or graceful. The only use of this gesture is to call attention to objects on the other side of the speaker from that of the arm employed, or in the expression of antithetic ideas. 5. The head has but' slight 'motion, and that merely in sympathy with the arms. All bobbing and shaking of the head, all sudden turn- ing and jerking, are faults in manner to be shunned. With these brief suggestions, we leave the subj ect to the good taste and judicious instructions of the intelligent teacher. DECLAMATION. A few remarks on the subject of declamation in schools may not be deemed out of place here. It is an important and valuable exercise, and should have an appropriate place in the education especially of American boys. When conducted by a judicious teacher who has qualified himself to give instruction in this department, it constitutes an important part of that training which fits the student for the dis- charge of those duties which society has a right to claim of educated men. It is unfortunately too often the practice, in even our best schools, either to ignore declamation altogether, or give it such a subordinate position in the school exercises that little importance is attached to it either by teacher or pupil. This ought not so to be. The elocu- 40 INTRODUCTION. tionary training of the voice, and the discipline necessary to enable the student to express his own thoughts, or the thoughts of others, with power, ease, and elegance, are accomplishments which should not be lightly esteemed. In the management of declamation, the first suggestion we have to make is with reference to the selection of pieces. After the student has had some experience, it may be well to let him follow his own taste and judgment ; but the teacher should exercise a judicious scru- tiny over the selections of beginners. As a general thing, the most in- experienced will be found to select those pieces least suited to their powers and most difficult to declaim aright. IJaving made a judicious selection, the next object should be to com- mit it to memory perfectly. It should require no effort of the mind to recall every idea and word in their proper order. The words should flow as freely as if the speaker were reading a familiar extract. When- ever the mind is occupied merely with the effort to remember the word, the manner will be disregarded, and the externals of appropriate address neglected. The pupil must thoroughly know, before he can itnderstand the meaning or feel the spirit of the piece. Both of these must be fully understood and appreciated before he can declaim it with propriety and grace. Unless the student can enjoy the privilege of frequent private re- hearsals — which is very desirable — it will be found beneficial to allow him to rehearse the same piece several times, that he may apply the instructions of the teacher to that particular piece before passing to another. It is by constant repetition of the same instruction that he will learn to correct errors in elocution or gesture.. The correction of errors is necessarily a gradual work, and the judicious and skilful teacher will not undertake to correct too many faults at once. Natural diffidence is generally the cause of much of the awkwardness of man- ner in beginners, and his errors should be dealt with gently until he has become somewhat familiar with his novel position. The perfection of declamation consists in repeating a piece as if its thoughts and words were those of the pupil himself. The speaker must put himself in imagination in the place of him whom he per- sonates ; the thoughts and emotions of the author must, for the time being, control his soul, and be expressed as if he had the same purpose to accomplish as he who first gave them utterance. This power to personate the real author must be acquired before perfection in de- clamation can be attained. To develop this highest quality of delivery requires skill, patience, and perseverance on the part both of teacher and pupil. While it is true that all the pupils in any school may not be capable of attaining perfection in the art of oratory, yet most may reach, at least, a respectable position, and all will be greatly benefited by the course of training indicated in the preceding observations. PART I. I. THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE.— James Dobbin. Eloquence is an art by which man can successfully play upon the passions of his fellow-man : at one moment startle with his brilliant flashes, and annihilate with his withering sarcasm; at another, melt the heart with his touching pathos, and win the admiration by those persuasive tones and thrilling appeals that lend effectiveness to the most cogent reasoning and proclaim the triumph of true elo- quence. How oft indeed, when the fires of liberty have been well-nigh extinguished, and her votaries sunk in the depths of sadness and despair, hath eloquence stepped forth to reanimate the drooping and to rekindle the smothered fires into a brighter blaze ! How often has eloquence checked the desolations of war, protected the blessings of peace, encouraged the arts, and touched the chords of a thousand hearts in the holy cause of religion and piety ! Your earliest readings tell of its power. It was Grecian eloquence that gave her orators the sway over the multi- tude, and roused all Greece by its thunders to rally and re- sist the encroachments of her Macedonian enemy, and gave the great master of eloquence a renown that two thousand years have only increased.. It is Roman eloquence that will ever juerpetuate the glory of the Eternal City. It is British eloquence that has thrown a halo around the Sea-girt Isle, and that will last when the future traveller will wander amid the ruins of her fallen grandeur. Burke and Chatham, Pitt and Fox, and Sheridan, and Grattan, and Erskine are 42 sterling's southern orator. names whose immortality attests the power of eloquence, illustrated by their brilliant efforts in struggles for their country's glory, or in the attainment of laurels in the race of personal ambition. What did not American eloquence achieve, when Henry, and Adams, and Ames spoke ? What hath it not since achieved in many a memorable era in our young Republic's history ? II. POWER OF THE ORATOR.— Anonymous. He wmo would touch the heart, and wield at will the fierce democracy, must have " Wit, and words, and worth, Action and utterance, and the power of speech To stir men's blood." Thus " doubly armed," the orator rises calm in the confi- dence of his strength. In vain the angry shout, in vain the discordant tumult of a hostile and prejudiced assembly. He stands unmoved amid the storm. He speaks, and " his big, manly voice" goes forth, like the trumpet's sound, above all the tumult. He is by turns patient or indignant, bold or yielding, as it suits his purpose. He exhorts ; he threatens ; he supplicates ; he persuades. The storm is hushed — the waves subside ; he has stretched his wand over the troubled waters, and the tempest is at rest. And now all hang breathless on his lips ; he warms, he glows, he is on fire ; his hearers are carried away with him ; they follow him in all his windings, through every change of feeling and passion. He bears down every obstacle. His friends he animates with his enthusiasm; he lashes his op- ponents Avith his satire; he withers them with his scorn; he crushes, he annihilates them witli his terrible, his resist- less powers. And now acclamations of delight rend the air; he is crowned with garlands; he is borne in triumph to his home, the hero of the day; achieving a bloodless vic- tory, a stainless triumph, nobler than was ever Avon by con- sterling's southern orator. 43 quest and the sword, — the victory of mind over mind, — the triumph of the intellect of one man over the under- standings and the hearts of thousands. III. A FREE PRESS.— Cueean. Is it asked of what benefit is a Free Press ? — What ca- lamities are the people saved from by having public discus- sion unrestrained ? I will tell you, gentlemen, what they are saved from, and what the government is saved from. I will tell you, also, what both are exposed to by suppress- ing that discussion. In the one case, sedition speaks aloud and walks abroad. The demagogue goes forth. The public eye is upon him. He frets his busy hum upon the stage, but soon either weari- ness, or bribe, or punishment bears him down or drives him off, and he appears no more. In the other case, how does the work of sedition go for- ward ? Night after night the muffled rebel steals forth in the dark, and casts another and another brand upon the pile, to which, when the hour of fatal maturity shall arrive, he will apply the torch. Even the person of the tyrant is never in safety. Neither the fears of the despot nor the machinations of the slave have any slumber — the one antici- pating the moment of peril, the other watching the oppor- tunity of aggression. The fatal crisis is equally a surprise upon both; the decisive moment is precipitated without warning, by folly on the one side or by frenzy on the other ; and there is no notice of the treason till the traitor acts. In that awful moment of a nation's travail, of the Inst gasp of tyranny and the first breath of freedom, how preg- nant is the example ! The press extinguished, the people enslaved, and the prince undone. As the advocate of so- ciety, therefore — of peace — of domestic liberty, — I conjure you to guard the freedom of the press. Guard it, because when it sinks, there sink with it, in one common grave, the liberty of the subject and the security of the crown. 44 sterling's southern orator. rv\ FAMINE IN IRELAND.— S. S. PeentisS. There lies upon the other side of the wide Atlantic a beau- tiful island, famous in story and in song. It has given to the world more than its share of genius and of greatness. It has been prolific in statesmen, warriors, and poets. Its brave and generous sons have fought successfully in all battles but its own. In wit and humor it has no equal ; while its harp, like its history, moves to tears by its sweet but melancholy pathos. In this fair region God has seen fit to send the most terrible of all those fearful ministers who fulfil His inscrutable decrees. The earth has failed to give her increase; the common mother has forgotten her off- spring, and her breast no longer affords them their accus- tomed nourishment. Famine, gaunt and ghastly famine, has seized a nation with its strangling grasp ; and unhappy Ireland, in the sad woes of the present, forgets, for a mo- ment, the gloomy history of the past. In battle, in the fulness of his pride and strength, little recks the soldier whether the hissing bullet sing his sudden requiem, or the cords of life are severed by the sharp steel. But he who dies of hunger wrestles alone, day after day, with his grim and unrelenting enemy. He has no friends to cheer him in the terrible conflict ; for, if he had friends, how could he die of hunger ? He has not the hot blood of the soldier to maintain him ; for his foe, vampire-like, has exhausted his veins. Who will hesitate to give his mite to avert such awful results ? Give, then, generously and freely. . Recollect that in so doing you are exercising one of the most godlike qualities of your nature, and at the same time enjoying one of the greatest luxuries of life. We ought to thank our Maker that He has permitted us to exercise equally with Himself that noblest of even the divine attributes — benev- olence. Go home and look at your family, smiling in rosy heal tli, and then think of the pale, famine-pinched cheeks of the poor children of Ireland, and you will give ac- cording to your store, even as a bountiful Providence has given to you — not grudgingly, but with an open hand; for the quality of benevolence, like that of mercy, sterling's southern orator. 45 " Is not strained ; It droppeth like the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed : It blesses him that gives, and him that takes." V. PATRIOTISM.— H. L. Pinckney. The American Constitution is, in fact, the political lumi- nary of the world ; and he who would extinguish its sacred light is not only a traitor to American liberty, but justly deserves to be regarded as an enemy to the human race. Patriotism, therefore, requires you to cultivate an ardent and abiding attachment to that Constitution as the bond of our political union. This is the ark of our political salvation, the citadel from which the light of liberty shines and its inspiring banner waves ; that sacred light, at which mourning humanity may relume its hopes ; that banner which proudly proclaims that there is still one republic in the world, one land where man walks erect in all the dignity of his nature, and where the oppressed of other nations may happily exchange the mis- eries of despotism for the inestimable fruition of the rights of man. And who would overthrow it if he could ? Who is he that would rise on the ruins of his country, or that desires to see the American capitol rocking on its base, and the proud emblem of freedom torn from its walls, and this glorious confederacy broken into fragments, and the sun of liberty extinguished in fraternal blood, and the whole world enveloped in the deep and interminable darkness of political death ? If there be an American so utterly unworthy of the name, let me tell him, for his consolation, that his parrici- dal aspiration never can be gratified. The American con- federacy can never be dissolved; never, whilst the people retain a recollection of their common sufferings and glories, or are actuated by the principles of the revolution, or whilst reason is left free to combat error, and popular education is promoted, and that great engine, the press, remains un- 46 sterling's southern orator. ♦ trammelled, and men dare to think, and speak, and act like freemen. " I love thee ; next to heaven above, Land of my fathers — thee I love ; And rail thy slanderers as they will, With all thy faults, I love thee still/' VI. APPREHENSIONS OF DISUNION.— Wjxliam Pinkney. Sir, the people of the United States, if I do not wholly mistake their character, are wise as well as virtuous. They know the value of that federal association which is to them the single pledge and guarantee of power and peace. Their warm and pious affections will cling to it, as to their only hope of prosperity and happiness, in defiance of pernicious abstractions, by whomsoever inculcated, or howsoever seduc- tive and alluring in their aspect. Sir, it is not an occasion like this, — although connected, as, contrary to all reasonable expectation, it has been, with fearful and disorganizing theories, which would make our estimates, whether fanciful or sound, of natural law the measure of civil rights and political sovereignty in the social state, — it is not, I say, an occasion like this that can harm the Union. It must, in- deed, -be a mighty storm that can push from its moor- ings this sacred ark of the common safety. It is not every trifling breeze, however it may be made to sob and howl in imitation of the tempest, by the auxiliary breath of the ambitious, the timid, or the discontented, that can drive this gallant vessel, freighted with every thing that is dear to an American bosom, upon the rocks, or lay it a sheer hulk upon the ocean. I may, perhaps, mistake the flattering suggestions of hope (the greatest of all flatterers, as we are told) for the con- clusions of sober reason. Yet it is a j^leasing error, if it be an error, and no man shall take it from me. I will continue to cherish the belief, — ay, sir, in defiance of the public patronage given to deadly speculations, which, invoking the name of Deity to aid their faculties for mischief, strike at all establishments, — I will continue to cherish the belief that sterling's southern orator. 47 the Union of these States is formed to bear up against far greater shocks than, through all vicissitudes, it is ever likely to encounter. I will continue to cherish the belief that, although, like all other human institutions, it may for a season be disturbed, or suffer momentary eclipse by the transit across its disk of some malignant planet, it possesses a recuperative force, a redeeming energy, in the hearts of the people, that will soon restore it to its wonted calm, and give it back its accustomed splendor. On such a subject I will discard all hysterical apprehensions ; I will deal in no sinister auguries ; I will indulge in no hypochondriacal forebodings. I will look forward to the future with gay and cheerful hope, and will make the prospect smile, in fancy at least, until overwhelming reality shall render it no longer possible. VII. DANIEL WEBSTER.— H. W. Helliard, In a snow-storm, a sleigh was seen ascending a hill in the State of New-Hampshire, in which were seated a man already mature, of fine, bold face, and a youth of generous counte- nance. The elder traveller addresses some words to the younger, which seem to move him ; for he presently rests his head upon the shoulder of his companion, and his eyes are filled with tears. The travellers were Ebenezer Webster and his son Daniel, and the father had just announced to his son his purpose to send him to college. Daniel, overcome with emotion at the opening of such a career, and at the thought of the sac- rifice which his father is about to make for him, cannot re- strain his tears. There the ardor of a great soul broke forth, and the eye of the young eagle flashed as it turned for the first time toward the sun. . . . A really great man is the grandest object which this world ever exhibits. The heavens in their magnificence — the ocean in its sublime immensity — mountains standing firm upon their granite foundations — all are less imposing than a living man in the possession of his highest faculties. Demosthenes urging the Athenians to march against Philip 48 sterling's southern orator. interests us more than all Greece. Hannibal scaling the Alps with his victorious legions is a sublimer object than the Alps themselves. Marius seated upon the ruins of Carthage makes us forget the fall of an empire in contemplating the fortunes of a man. Nelson, upon the deck of the Victory, with the star glittering upon his breast, is a grander sight than the two hostile fleets. Napoleon at Waterloo, riding to the brow of the hill at the head of the Imperial Guard when they were to make their last charge upon the British lines, is an object of higher interest than all the stern array of battle besides. Lord Chatham sinking in the House of Lords is the noblest object in the British empire ; and Washington crossing the Delaware at night, amid the crash- ing ice, fixes our attention in the midst of the dread magnifi- cence of the winter scene, and we look upon him as we would upon an avenging archangel going forth to smite the invading army. Our country has produced some great men. They glow in the heaven of the past like stars in the firmament, and in that splendid constellation we see Webster in full-orbed glory. In history, as in the heavens, one star differeth from another star in glory. VIII. THE BRITISH EMPIRE.— Macaulay. This is, indeed, a great, and splendid, and mighty empire, well provided with means of annoyance and weapons of de- fence. She can do many things which are far beyond the power of any other nation in the world ; she dictated peace to China, she governs Australasia, and she rules Caffraria. Should occasion again arise, she could sweep from the sur- face of the ocean the commerce of the world, and, as for- merly, blockade the ports, and spread her triumphant flag from the Baltic to the Adriatic. She is able to maintain her Indian empire against every threatened hostility, whether by land or sea; but, amid all this vast mass of power, there is one vulnerable point — one spot unguarded, and that spot nearest to her heart ; a spot at which, forty-five years ago, sterling's southern orator. 49 a deadly, happily not a fatal, blow was aimed. The gov- ernment and Parliament, each in its sphere, is deeply respon- sible for the continuance of such a lamentable state of things, and, for my part of that responsibility, I intend to clear myself by the vote I shall give in favor of the motioit of my noble friend; and I trust that I shall find with me so large and respectable a body of members of this house, as shall satisfy the Irish people that they still have friends in England, and that they need not yet relinquish all hope of protection from the wisdom and justice of an imperial parliament. IX. THE DRUNKARD'S SOLILOQUY.— Field's Scrap-Book. Who am I ? Ay, and what am I, but a wretched outcast, shunned and despised by the wise and good? My estate wasted ; constitution destroyed ; affairs in ruin ; friends absconded; children naked and hungry; wife in tears and comfortless ; appetite none ; visage bloated and disgusting ; hands and knees tremulous; reason debased, and manners become vile ; character annihilated ! My acquaintances pass by me like strangers ! I am tormented by disease ; harassed by lawsuits ; teased by creditors ; collared by sheriffs ; mocked and hunted by truants and black- guards ! I am a hated, filthy sot, companion only to the lowest brute ! Nay, the vile brute is exalted, is noble, com- pared to a wretch like me ! In all that is esteemed honor- able, respectable, and worthy in society, I am the mere cin- der of a crucible; the very paltry dregs of alembics! Cursed intemperance, these are thy fruits ! Oppressed na- ture can hold on no longer! She is about to resign her worthless charge ! The horrid grave opens upon me and yawns for its prey ! Despair seizes me ! My brain is on fire ! Away, then ; let me hasten, and sink, unremembercd, down, down, down to — ! "Father, father!" exclaimed a sudden and wild voice. The knife fell to the ground, and a ragged though lovely boy rushed into his embraces. 3 50 STEELINGTS SOUTHERN OEATOR. RELIGION.— Mackenzie. He who would undermine those foundations upon which the fabric of our future hope is reared, seeks to beat down that column which supports the feebleness of humanity : let him but think a moment, and his heart will arrest the cruelty of his purpose. Would he pluck its little treasure from the bosom of poverty ? Would he wrest its crutch from the hand of age, and remove from the eye of afflic- tion the only solace of its woe ? The way we tread is rugged at best ; we tread it, however, lighter by the prospect of the better country to which, we trust, it will lead. Tell us not that it will end in the gulf of eternal dissolution, or break off in some wild, which fancy may fill up as she pleases, but reason is unable to delineate ; quench not that beam which, amidst the night of this evil world, has cheered the despondency of ill-requited worth, and illumined the darkness of suffering virtue. XI. THE UNION.— James McDowell. It is said, sir, that, at some dark hour of our revolution- ary contest, when army after army had been lost ; when, dispirited, beaten, wretched, the heart of the boldest and faithfulest died within them, and all, for an instant, seemed conquered, except the unconquerable soul of our father- chief — it is said, that at that moment, rising above all the auguries around him, and buoyed up by the inspiration of his immortal work for all the trials it could bring, he roused anew the sunken spirits of his associates by this confident and daring declaration : " Strip me," said he " of the deject- ed and suffering remnant of my army — take from me all that I have left — leave but a banner, give me but the means to plant it upon the mountains of West-Augusta, and I will yet draw around me the men who will lift up their bleed- ing country from the dust, and set her free." Give to me, sterling's southern orator. 51 who am a son and representative here of that West- Augus- ta — give to me, as a banner, the propitious measure I have endeavored to support, help me to plant it upon this moun- tain-top of our national power, and the land of Washing- ton, undivided and unbroken, will be our land, and the land of our children's children forever. So help me to do this at this hour, and, generations hence, some future representative of the South, standing where I stand, in this same honored hall, and in the midst of our legitimate suc- cessors, will bless, and praise, and thank God that he too can say of them, as I of you, and of all around me, These, these are my brethren, and this, this, oh, this, too, is my country ! XII. EARL OF CHATHAM.— William Wirt. When the great Earl of Chatham first made his appear- ance in the House of Commons, and began to astonish and transport the British Parliament and the British nation by the boldness, the force, and range of his thoughts, and* the celestial fire and pathos of his eloquence, it is well known that the minister, Walpole, and his brother Horace, from motives very easily understood, exerted all their w T it, all their oratory, all their acquirements of every description, sustained and enforced by the unfeeling " insolence of office," to heave a mountain on his gigantic genius, and hide it from the world. Poor and powerless attempt ! The tables were turned. He rose upon them, in tbe might and irresistible energy of his genius, and in spite of all their convulsions, frantic agonies, and spasms, he strangled them and their whole faction with as much ease as Hercules did the ser- pent Python. Who can turn over the debates of the day, and read the account of this conflict between youthful ardor and hoary- headed cunning and power, without kindling in the cause of the tyro, and shouting at his victory? That they should have attempted to pass off the grand yet solid and judi- cious operations of a mind like his as being mere theatrical start and emotion, the giddy, hare-brained eccentricities of a romantic "boy — that they should have had the presump- 52 sterling's southern orator. tion to suppose themselves capable of chaining down to the floor of the Parliament a genius so ethereal, towering, and sublime — seems unaccountable. Why did they not, in the next breath, by way of crowning the climax of vanity, bid the magnificent fire-ball to descend from its exalted and appropriate region, and perform its splendid tour along the surface of the earth ? XIII. INTERVENTION IN EUROPEAN WARS.— Jeremiah Clemens. Misfortunes may come upon us all ; dishonor attaches only to the unworthy. A nation may be conquered, trodden down — her living sons in chains, her dead the prey of vul- tures — and still leave a bright example, a glorious history, to after times. But when folly and wickedness have ruled the hour — when disaster is the legitimate child of error and weakness — the page that records it is but a record of infamy, and pity for misfortune becomes a crime against justice. Sir,*I do not love that word " destiny " — "manifest" or not " manifest." Men and nations make their own destinies. " Our acts our angels are, or good or ill — Our fatal shadows, that walk by us still." The future of this Republic is in our hands ; and it is for us to determine whether we will launch the ship of state upon a wild and stormy sea, above whose blackened waters no sun- shine beams, no star shines out, and where not a ray is seen but what is caught from the lurid lightning in its fiery path. This, senators, is the mighty question w^e have to solve ; and let me add, if the freedom of one continent, and the hopes of four, shall sink beneath that inky flood, ours will be the guilt — ours the deep damnation. Shall I be told these arc idle fears ? That, in a war with Russia, no matter for what cause waged, we must be the victors? That, in short, all Europe combined could not blot this Union from the map of nations ? Ah, sir, that is not all I fear. I fear success even more than defeat. The senator from Michigan was right when he said that ourfeara were to be found at home. I do fear ourselves. Commit sterling's southern orator. 53 our people once to unnecessary foreign wars — let victory- encourage the military spirit, already too prevalent among them — and Roman history will have no chapter bloody enough to be transmitted to posterity side by side with ours. In a brief period we shall have reenacted, on a grander scale, the same scenes which marked her decline. The veteran soldier, who has followed a victorious leader from clime to clime, will forget his love of country in his love for his com- mander ; and the bayonets you send abroad to conquer a kingdom will be brought back to destroy the rights of the citizen, and prop the throne of an emperor. XIV. MISSOURI COMPROMISE.— Robert Toombs. Me. President, there is another test of the nationality of this policy, to which I would, for a few moments, invite your attention. Not alone in the South, whose interests are mainly and more immediately affected by it, but through- out the non-slaveholding States, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, its supporters are to be found, men who, rising superior to local and sectional prejudices and passions and influences, brave, dare all for the public weal. At the head of this noble column of patriots stands the President of the republic. Having reached, by the voice of his countrymen, the loftiest pinnacle of honorable ambi- tion, at once the reward and testimonial of a long, able, bril- liant, and patriotic career in the service of his country, surely none can doubt the disinterestedness of his counsels or the purity of his motives. His sands of life have nearly run out. At home and abroad, in the Cabinet and in the Senate, he has won unfading laurels for himself and shed lustre over the annals of his country. His political record is made up ; it is submitted to the future, to time,, and to truth; full of years and of honors, he can now only seek to make a record that shall stand the scrutiny of the Judge of all the earth. Looking at this question at his lofty em- inence, above the clouds and passions which obscure the mental vision of the active combatants, he supports this 54 sterling's southern orator. great policy which I have reviewed, and decides this meas- ure to be wise, just, and necessary to the peace of the republic. By his side stands another venerable patriot from the same section of the Union, who has passed the ordinary period of life allotted to man ; one whose life has been patriotically devoted to the service of the country, to the practice of virtue, # and the pursuit of truth. He, too, gave his voice and his vote against the Missouri restriction, and gives his support to the measure before us. Connec- ticut and Pennsylvania supply two other able, upright, and distinguished sons in the cabinet to enlarge this patriot band and to vindicate these measures. xv. TEXAS AND ALABAMA.— Samuel Houston. I have this further assurance, that I made the State, but I did not make the people ; and if they do wrong, the State still remains in all its beauty, with its splendid and inviting prospects, with nothing on the earth to surpass it in climate, soil, and productions, all varied and delightful. It remains the same beautiful Texas. I made it. I did not make the people. They came there and they are there ; but the State remains, and I am a citizen of it. The gentleman says he loves Alabama because he was born there. Sir, I, too, love Alabama ; I have endearments of the most delicate character connected with Alabama. More, sir, when it was an unbroken wilderness, forty-four years ago; when the savage and the wild beast roamed over it, and every man who went there had to go with his life in one hand and his weapons of war in the other ; it was there that I kindled camp-fires and sat by them and kept vigils. I assisted in redeeming that land from a wilderness and a desert, and I watered it with the richest blood of youth that flowed in these veins. Ought I not to love the South ? Yes, sir ; I cherished every manly sen- timent for the South ; and I am determined that, while I live in it, none of the fraternal bonds which bind it to this Union shall be broken. STERLING'S southern orator. 55 XVI. HOPE FOR THE FUTURE.— R. M. T. Hunter. In the Eastern world, spoils of empire that have been ac- cumulating since the earliest records of time begin now to attract the regards and the cupidity of the great powers of Europe. Their fleets are already coasting along that slender barrier which separates them from the mighty prize, but which they are deterred from grasping more from the fear of each other than from the dread of any opposition which they are to encounter there. The eagles have indeed gathered to the banquet. But one alone is absent from the feast, and she is the youngest mother of them all. She is at home guarding her nest, be- cause she is afraid that if she leaves them her young will not dwell together in peace. Sir, such a state of things cannot long endure. The instincts of power and of em- pire must of themselves prevent it. If the senator will allow me to use his tripod for a moment, and to venture a prediction for the future, I would say that the American people will preserve their Constitution, and the Union which is founded upon it ; they will maintain their courts ; they will continue to cherish respect for the judicial ermine and for the majesty of the law; and they will cultivate hereafter, as I trust, a spirit of peace and of friendship at home. For one, I hope for the day when, in the beautiful language of Mr. Jefferson, " we may unite with one heart and with one mind to restore to social intercourse that harmony and affection without which liberty, and even life itself, are but dreary things." Yes, sir, I will venture still to hope — ■ " For I have seen The thorn frown rudely all the winter long, And after "bear the rose upon its top." 56 sterling's southern orator. XVII. POPULARIZING GOVERNMENT.— Andrew Johnson. The policy of my friend would be to take the govern- ment further from the people. I go in a direction to popu- larize it, and bring it nearer to the people. There is no better illustration of this than that old maxim, which is adopted in all our ordinary transactions, that " if you want a thing done, send somebody to do it ; if you want it well done, go and do it yourself. 5 ' It applies with great force in government affairs as in individual affairs ; and as we can advance and make the workings and operation of our gov- ernment familiar to and understood by the people, the better for us. I say, when and wherever it is practicable, let the people transact their own business ; bring them more in contact with their government, and then you will arrest expenditure, you will arrest corruption, you will have a purer and better government. I hold to the doctrine that man can be advanced ; that man can be elevated ; that man can be more exalted in his character and condition. We are told, on high authority, that he is made in the image of his God ; that he is endow- ed with a certain amount of divinity. And I believe man can be elevated ; man can become more and more endowed with divinity ; and as he does, he becomes more godlike in his character and capable of governing himself. Let us go on elevating our people, perfecting our institutions, until democracy shall reach such a point of perfection that we can exclaim with truth that the voice of the people is the voice of God. XVIII. NATIONAL PROGRESS.— Hugh S. Legaiie. Sir, I dare not trust myself to speak of my country with the rapture which I habitually feel when I contemplate her marvellous history. But this I will say, that, on my return to it, alter an absence of only four years, I was filled with wonder at all I saw and all I heard. What is to be compar- 57 ed with it ? I found New-York grown up to almost double its former size, with the air of a great capital instead of a mere flourishing commercial town, as I had known it. I listened to accounts of voyages of a thousand miles, in magnificent steamboats, on the water of those great lakes, which, but the other day, I left sleeping in the primeval silence of nature, in the recesses of a vast wilderness ; and I felt that there are a grandeur and a majesty in this irre- sistible onward march of a race — created, as I believe, and elected, to possess and people a continent — which belong to few other objects, either of the moral or material world. We may become so much accustomed to such things, that they shall make as little impression upon our mind as the glories of the heavens above us ; but, looking on them lately as with the eye of the stranger, I felt, what a recent English traveller is said to have remarked, that, far from being without poetry, as some have vainly alleged, our whole country is one great poem. Sir, it is so ; and if there be a man that can think of what is doing, in all parts of this most blessed of all lands, to embellish and advance it — who can contemplate that living mass of intelligence, activity, and improvement, as it rolls on in its sure and steady progress to the uttermost extremities of the west — who can see scenes of savage desolation transformed, almost with the suddenness of enchantment, into those of fruitful- ness and beauty, crowned with flourishing cities filled with the noblest of all populations — if there be a man, I say, that can witness all this passing under his very eyes, with- out feeling his heart beat high and his imagination warmed and transported by it, be sure, sir, that the raptures of song exist not for him ; he would listen in vain to Tasso or Camoens, telling a tale of the wars of knights and crusad- ers, or of the discovery and conquest of another hemi- sphere. XIX. STATE PRIDE.— W. W. Avery. My young friends, the hopes of our " good old State" are now concentrated in her young men ; and I impress it upon you, as a duty of paramount obligation, to cultivate * 58 sterling's southern orator. the sentiment of State pride. This feeling may be cherish- ed with patriotic ardor, without impairing the force of any obligation imposed by the Federal Constitution. It will loosen no cord and weaken no tie that should bind your affections to the Union of the States ; and whilst it abates no portion of that general interest which we must feel in the happiness of all who live with us in the same republic, it will imbue you with unfaltering devotion to your native State, her institutions, and her people. Such devotion, and such devotion only, will preserve our territory from depopu- lation, or save those who may remain upon our soil from degrading inferiority in the eyes of our brethren in the other States, and in the estimation of the civilized world. I have delineated faithfully and truly the actual condition of the State ; you have looked upon the picture : I can add nothing that will heighten its impression. As Anthony ex- posed before his countrymen the corpse of Caesar, reeking with blood, and thereby excited their minds to mutiny and rage, so I present before you the Body Politic of your na- tive State, bleeding from a hundred wounds, and ask that their " dumb mouths" may speak for me. If their mute eloquence awaken not your sympathies, no human language could touch your hearts. XX. THE NECESSITY FOR CONSULS ABROAD.— John Pee-kins. In sixty-five years we have grown from a few compara- tively feeble settlements into a great empire. Civilization has, within this period, poured its light into our great cen- tral valley, and forests have disappeared, cities sprung up, and a magnificent landscape everywhere spread itself out, beautiful in the results of religion and law. In this it may be questioned whether the internal or foreign policy of the government lias had the most influence. The extension of our territory, the rapid development of our wealth, the opening of new and the increase of old sources of foreign trade, and the participation in it of the capital and products of all sections of the Union have caused to sympathize nearly every domestic interest with foreign sterling's southern orator. 59 affairs. It is no exaggeration to say that there is not an acre of corn or cotton grown in the West or South, not an American vessel in any port in the world insured, not a loan made, nor a note discounted at any of our banks, which is not affected in its value, or in some way acted upon, and made a vibration of the great political and financial move- ments of the rest of the world. The fact that these domes- tic interests, which thus, like nerves, spread all over the globe, connect remote localities with interior points of our own country, cannot be protected by our own legislation, but depend upon treaties and the regard of the other powers of the earth for certain great principles of international law, makes the perfecting of the agency, through which we com- municate with the rest of the world, a matter of great prac- tical importance. A distinguished statesman of England, speaking on this subject, has called ministers and consuls " the ears, eyes, and mouths of a government, by which it hears, sees, and com- municates with the rest of the world. 55 The object of this bill is to make these organs of communication respond more distinctly to the purpose of their creation. It is time that something was done to reform existing abuses. Our inter- ests at home and abroad demand it. The honor of the coun- try requires it. The occasion is a fit one. XXI. PATIENT INDUSTRY ESSENTIAL TO SUCCESS. Rev. Dk. Talmadgk Let me present a scene which I wish were always fancy, but which I am sorry to say is enacted not unfrequently. Of two youths about prepared to enter the freshman class of a college, one takes his proper place ; the other, at the earnest entreaty of an injudicious father, and by the pliancy of a yielding faculty, enters the sophomore class. The latter, with some rare and happy exceptions, if he is able at all to retain his position, is found to graduate in three years at the bottom of his class; and yon shall never more hear from him unless you go to within a few miles of 60 STERLING S SOUTHERN ORATOR. r c tl e< CI w in us un th; is his residence. The former in four years graduates, with honor, among the leaders of his class, and is soon fifty years ahead of the other in usefulness and fame. Here a year's time seemed to be gained at the start; but the gain proved in the end to be a dead loss. . . . Who are those orators with so facile a manner — so easy a flow of words — so copious a torrent of thoughts — and with such profound philosophy, clothed in illustrations so rich, gathered from nature and from every science and art — en- chaining yonder senate chamber and fascinating yonder bar, and, from the pulpit, wringing tears of sorrow and of joy alternately from the eyes of the enraptured audience ? They are Chatham, and Grattan, and Curran, and Calhoun, and Clay, and Webster, and Massillon, and Chalmers, and Robert Hall. And what writer is that who plays upon the English language as upon a harp, and who evokes the sweetest music in the utterance of the richest thoughts and the pro- foundest philosophy ? That is Edmund Burke, the philoso- phic statesman. To all these men thought andlanguage seemed playthings, to be uttered in mere wantonness and sport. But they gained their envied achievements by industry and toil. They were all men of severe and patient thought and labor- ious study. XXII. THE DESTINY OF AMERICA.— J. Story. We stand the latest, and, if we fail, probably the last experiment of self-government by the people. We have begun it under circumstances of the most auspicious nature. We are in the vigor of youth. Our growth has never been checked by the oppressions of tyranny. Our constitutions have never been enfeebled by the vices or luxuries of the Old World. Such as we are, we have been from the be- ginning — simple, hardy, intelligent, accustomed to self- government and self-respect. The Atlantic rolls between us and any formidable foe. Within our own territory, stretching through many de- grees of latitude and longitude, we have the choice of many pfoducts and many means of independence. The govern- sterling's southern orator. 61 ment is mild. The press is free. Religion is free. Know- ledge reaches, or may reach, every home. What fairer prospects of success could be presented ? What means more adequate to accomplish the sublime end ? What more is necessary than for the people to preserve what they themselves have created ? Already has the age caught the spirit of our institutions. It has already ascended the Andes, and snuffed the breezes of both oceans. It has infused itself into the life-blood of Europe, and warmed the sunny plains of France and the lowlands of Holland. It has touched the philosophy of Ger- many and the north, and, moving onward to the south, has opened to Greece the lessons of her better days. Can it be that America, under such circumstances, can betray herself ? that she is to be added to the catalogue of republics, -the inscription upon whose ruins is, " They were, but they are not" ? Forbid it, my countrymen ; forbid it, Heaven ! / XXIII. THE PRICE OF LIBERTY IS PERPETUAL VIGILANCE. J. C. Calhoun. But of the few nations who have been so fortunate as to adopt a wise constitution, still fewer have had the wisdom long to preserve it. It is harder to preserve than to ob- tain liberty. After years of prosperity, the tenure by which it is held is but too often forgotten ; and I fear, senators, that such is the case with us. There is no solicitude now about liberty. It was not so in the early days of the re- public. Then it was the first object of our solicitude. The maxim then was, that " Power is always stealing from the many to the few ;" " The price of liberty is perpetual vigi- lance." Then no question of any magnitude came up, in which the first inquiry was not, " Is it constitutional ?" " Is it consistent with our free, popular institutions ?" " How is it to affect our liberty?" It is not so now. Questions of the greatest magnitude are now discussed without reference or allusion to these vital considerations. I have been often struck with the fact that, in the discussions of the great 62 sterling's southern orator. questions in which we are now engaged, relating to the origin and the conduct of this war, their effect on the free institutions and the liberty of the people have scarcely been alluded to, although their bearing in that respect is so direct and disastrous. They would, in former days, have been the great and leading topics of discussion ; and would, above all others, have had the most powerful effect in arousing the attention of the country. But now, other topics occupy the attention of Congress and of the country — military glory, extension of the empire, and the aggrandizement of the country. To what is this great change to be attributed ? Is it because there has been a decay of the spirit of liberty among the people? I think not. I believe that it was never more ardent. The true cause is, that we have ceased to remember the tenure by which liberty alone can be pre- served. We have had so many years of prosperity — passed through so many difficulties and dangers without the loss of liberty — that we begin to think that we hold it by right divine from Heaven itself. Under this impression, without thinking or reflecting, we plunge into war, contract heavy debts, increase vastly the patronage of the executive, and indulge in every species of extravagance, without thinking that we expose our liberty to hazard. It is a great and fatal mistake. The day of retribution will come ; and when it does, awful will be the reckoning, and heavy the respon- sibility somewhere. XXIV. DEATH OF HON. ANDREW P. BUTLER OF S. C. A. H. Stephens. Sir, eulogy is not my object ; that may be left for his biographer or historian. He that was a few months ago with us is gone. Those places that knew him so well will know him no more. We, too, are passing away. How brief the time since the voices of Lowndes, of McDuffie, of Calhoun, and of Hamilton were heard within these walls! The cold sod covers them to-day. The voice of Butler is silent in the grave with theirs. These were men that stirred, in their day, empires — a proud galaxy, of which the gallant sterling's southern orator. 63 Palmetto State, which they almost adored, may well be proud. As a mother, she may well boast of such jewels. But, the thought, how suggestive, when we see men of such character in their day and generation, passing away, receding from the existing generation — how suggestive the thought — the truth that, " When fame's loud trump hath blown its noblest blast, Though loud the sound, the echo sleeps at last ; And glory, like the phoenix 'midst the fires, Exhales her odors, blazes and expires." " What shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue !" How transitory pleasures ! How unsubstantial honors ! The only hope to the wise and the good — the virtuous good — on this earth, with all their aspirations for honorable place — and such aspirations are to be great only so far as they are good — is the hope, the day-star of promise, that hereafter the dust of these bodies, like the ashes of that same fabled phoenix, is to be quickened into newness of life in a future existence, Avhere to each shall be measured out according to the deeds done here in the body ; where there shall be no more strife, no more pain, no more death, but never-ending immortality. I second the resolutions. xxv. THE BANE OF OUR GOVERNMENT.— John Bell. Here in this country we have no despotic governments, general or local. All are moulded in the most perfect forms of freedom consistent with the preservation of the great and legitimate objects of civil society. Neither by the theory, nor by any of the express provisions of our political system is any one man clothed with authority, even for a term of years, to play the despot, to substitute his will for the will of the people in deciding upon the issues of peace and of war, or to dictate the policy of the country, domestic or foreign; though, in the practical operation of our system, we know, by experience, that a weak or a bad man may as- sume "and exercise all these powers. Here we have no pent- up spirit of liberty, as in Europe, threatening to burst forth 64 sterling's southern orator, and disturb the public peace in an effort to assert the rights of the people. Still I assert that there are just grounds for the uneasiness and apprehensions which pervade the public mind. As the country advances in wealth and power, as our territorial dominion expands, it is but too manifest that in the practical operation of the government there has been a regular progress of departure from its true theory. The forms of the government have been observed, while the spirit and objects of their institution have been for the most part disregarded and defeated. The regular and legitimate influ- ences which, by the theory of our system, should preside over elections, and control the administration of the government, are superseded and inverted. Whatever other causes may have contributed to this de- plorable result, the chief one undoubtedly has been the ex- treme and anomalous party action to which the govern- ment has been subjected by the prevalence of party spirit, that proverbial bane of all free governments, stimulated to excess by the magnitude of the prize of victory in the great quadrennial struggles for the presidential purple — the thou- sands of lucrative offices, and the millions of public treasure belonging, by established usage, to the victors in these great contests. XXVI. THE STANDARD OF CITIZENSHIP.— John Kelly. But, sir, may we not hope that a better day is beginning to dawn upon our country? We have had enough, and more than enough, of this rancorous spirit of partisan war- fare. It is time we should forget those feuds that would separate brother from brother and friend from friend, and meet once again on the common platform of true, constitu- tional, American nationality. When our liberties are men- aced, and the foeman dares to invade our soil, we stop not to ask the birthplace of our ancestors, or the period of our own or our fathers' emigration. Are we true and loyal to the Constitution of our country, and ready to peril our life in its defence? That was the revolutionary standard of citizenship; let it, in the name of God and of liberty, be ours also. Our adopted citizens have, in no instance, proved 65 themselves unworthy this standard, and they are not likely to degenerate in future time. The German and the Irishman of to-day are no less patriotic and ardent in the cause of human freedom than the German and the Irishman of the Revolution. TTe may, perhaps, sooner than we imagine, need the bravery of all our sons. A wily enemy is lurking about our borders. Her emissaries and agents are maraud- ing about the waters of our Southern States, and already our flag has been insulted and our citizens maltreated by these arrogant intermeddlers. We may need the union of all true hearts and bold hands. Let us not palsy the na- tional strength by unmeaning cHstinctions and illiberal pro- scription. Oar truest glory consists in our birthright of freedom. Our freedom is but a name without the virtues of our sires. XXVII. THE RESTORATION OF PEACE AND HARMONY.— R. P. Teippe. TVheee, then, sir, is the patriot who does not wish to re- lieve his country from this pressure, and to enable the people to come up to the consideration of other great principles in- timately connected with their present interests and future prosperity ? Happy would be the lot of that man who could remove the Achan's wedge, and bring back once more the blessings of heaven upon our politic Israef. I may be mistaken, Mr. Chairman, in one great object I hope to aid in securing by my vote. I am for peace — an honorable and lasting peace — heart and soul ; and short of a sacrifice of principle, I dare not sacrifice ; short of a sur- render of rights — which would be degradation — I would be willing to adopt any honorable course to give and secure that peace to a distracted country. I shall take this step, and give this vote, hoping, if it succeed, that peace may come. As it is, I know full well we have it not. The old vessel is cabled fast to the shore, as if to a '.'body of death," striking heavily on the rocks that surround her. She cannot part that cable, and go out to seek deeper and safer waters. There she is, bound by this Gordian knot. As a pilot or mariner on board, it is on me to join in deciding what shall Q6 sterling's southern orator. be done. It maybe a- dangerous attempt, for serious threats are made ; but, risking all, I would cut that Gordian knot, turn loose the ship, hoist sail, and strike out for more quiet waters, where the winds of heaven may fill her sails, and send her on her way rejoicing.. Let the deed be done ; and give the patriot's prayer — God speed her, and send her safe deliverance ! XXVIII. PRESERVATION OF THH UNION— 1833.— John Tyler. If the majority shall pass this bill, they must do it on their own responsibility ; I will have no part in it. When gentlemen recount the blessings of union ; when they dwell upon the past, and sketch out in bright perspective the future, they awaken in my breast all the pride of an American ; my pulse beats responsive to theirs, and I re- gard union, next to freedom, as the greatest of blessings. Yes, sir, ' the Federal Union must be preserved.' But how ? Will you preserve it by force ? Will you appease the angry spirit of discord by an oblation of blood ? Suppose that the proud spirit of South - Carolina shall not bend to your high edicts in token of fealty ; that you make war upon her, hang her governor, her legislators, and judges as traitors, and reduce her to the condition of a conquered province — have you preserved the Union ? This Union consists of twenty-four States ; would you have preserved the Union by striking out one of the States — one of the old thirteen ? Gentlemen have boasted of the flag of our country, with its thirteen stars. When the light of one of these stars shall have been extinguished, will the flag wave over us, under which our fathers fought? If we arc to go on striking out star after star, what will finally remain but a central and a burning sun, lighting and de- stroying every germ of liberty ? The flag which I wish to wave over me is that which floated at Saratoga and York- town. It bore upon it thirteen Slates, of which South-Caro- lina was one. Sir, there is a great difference between pre- serving union and preserving government ; the Union may be annihilated, yet government preserved; but, under such a government, no man ought to desire to live. STERLING'S SOUTHEKjS" ORATOR. 67 XXIX. OLIVES CROMWELL.— Right Rev. Bishop Atkinson. With all this force of character, he was not a man of blood. Constant efforts were made to assassinate him ; and he was importuned by his officers to permit a general mas- sacre of the royal party, but he would never consent. In short, says Clarendon, somewhat inconsistently, after such a recital, "as he had all the wickedness against which damnation is denounced and for which hell-fire is prepared, so he had some virtues which have caused the memory of some men in all ages to be celebrated, and he will be looked on by posterity as a brave, bad man." This, then, was beyond all question a great man. Out of the mouth of the enemies who hated him mqst, we have the strongest testimony. He was no braggart like Cleon, no declaimer like Robes- pierre ; but a man of admirable sagacity, of the clearest insight into human nature and personal character, of the soundest judgment, and a courage so unbienching, a resolu- tion so magnanimous, that in this respect none of Plutarch's heroes, no knight in the most brilliant age of chivalry, has ever excelled him. He was, says one of the contemporaries, a strong man. In the dark perils of war, in the high places of the field, hope shone in him like a pillar of fire when it had gone out in all others. But great men have their gra- dations. There are those who tower above their competi- tors, as Mont Blanc lifts itself above the other Alpine heights. There are a few whose names we instinctively recall when we think of transcendent ability. They are such as Alexander, as Csesar, as Napoleon. No man thinks of putting them on the same level with ordinary conquerors or statesmen. Brasidas was a great man, but he was not Alexander ; Scipio was a great man, but he was not Caesar ; Ney and Massena were great men, but they were fit only to be the marshals of Napoleon. And this, I think, will be seen to be a characteristic of these stars of the first magnitude, that their light shines on the whole sphere of human thought. It is not this or that work which they are com- petent to do ; but whatever it be that is most difficult to man, and yet possible, these men show themselves compe- tent to effect when the occasion presents itself. 68 sterling's southern orator. XXX. THE SOLDIERS OF THE REVOLUTION.— T. L. Anderson. And now, Mr. Chairman, has this great country — rich in power, more rich in promise — no boon at all for those who, at the peril of their lives, saved her cities from pillage, her daughters from a brutal foreign soldiery or an unrelenting savage foe? " Tell it not in Gath," publish not this wither- ing shame among the nations of the earth, lest they declare it is republics only can be so ungrateful. Sir, many of these men have already passed away. They went down to their graves, many of them stricken with poverty, emaciated with disease, or scarred with wounds acquired in their country's service. Oh, how sad their end ! Perchance their dying eye, as it grew dim, looked on some distant dome or staff, on which floated, in heaven's free breeze, that flag, that glorious flag, those a broad stripes and bright stars," to which, in the perilous fight, their patriotic hearts had so often turned, in the days of their strength and their vigor. It was the same flag still ; but, alas ! with what crushing effect did the mournful reflection force itself upon them : " My country has forgotten, has neglected me. Ungrateful country ! In my age it thinks not of my youth, and I die in poverty, unhonored by those for whom the strength of my manhood was expended." Sir, this is no fancy sketch : too truly has it been realized by many of those noble men who have now passed away. They have gone — fought their last battle — met their last foe : peace be to their ashes ! XXXI. THE CLOSE OF A PATRIOT'S LIFE.— William Wirt. How happy is the man whom the applause, the gratitude, and the blessings of his country follow at the close of life into the shades of retirement, to enjoy that supreme of all earthly happiness, the retrospect of a life well and greatly spent in the service of his country and mankind! The successful warrior, who lias desolated whole empires for his STERLING'S SOUTHERN" ORATOR. 69 own aggrandizement, the successful usurper of his country's rights and liberties, may have their hours of swelling pride, in which they may look back with a barbarous joy upon the triumph of their talents, and feast upon the adulation of the sycophants that surround them ; but, night and silence come, and conscience takes her turn. The bloody field rises upon the startled imagination. The shades of the slaughter- ed innocents stalk, in terrific procession, before the couch. The agonizing cries of countless widows and orphans in- vade the ear. The bloody dagger of the assassin plays, in airy terror, before the vision. Violated liberty lifts her avenging lance; and a down- trodden nation rises before them, in all the majesty of its wrath. What are the hours of a splendid wretch like this, compared with those that shed their poppies and their roses upon the pillows of the peaceful and virtuous patriot ? Every night bringing to him the balm and health of repose, and every morning offering to him " his history in a nation's eyes !" This, this it is to be greatly virtuous; and be this the only ambition that shall ever touch an American bosom ! XXXII. WATER.— John B. Gough. Sweet, beautiful water — clear, pure, refreshing! — that never brings sorrow to those who use it. Pour but a drop of this upon the drooping flower, and it will lift its head as if to bless you ; apply but one drop of man's distilling, and the flower withers and dies. Bestow but a goblet of this on the famishing traveller in the sun-parched desert, and how gladly would he return it o'erflowing with gold ; for he is dying with thirst, and those poisonous draughts are but mockery now. Mark yonder party bound on that fish- ing excursion. They are out upon the briny deep — they have been becalmed and detained for several days beyond their intended absence. Now they are reaching the shore, and hear their first shriek as they land : " Water ! bring us water!" u Why, are you not provided with drink ?" "Yes, but we want water — water, — sweet, beautiful, life-giving water:" — brewed in the bosom of nature — brewed in the 70 sterling's southern orator. green, sunny vale, where the red deer runs and the child loves to play. Sweet, beautiful water ! — brewed in the running brook, the rippling fountain, and the laughing rill — in the limpid cascade, as it joyfully leaps down the side of the mountain. Brewed in yonder mountain-top, whose granite peaks glitter like gold bathed in the morning sun — brewed in the sparkling dew-drop : sweet, beautiful water ! — brewed in the crested wave of the ocean-deeps, driven by storm, breathing its terrible anthem to the God of the sea — brewed in the fleecy foam, and the whitened spray as it hangs like a speck over the distant cataract — brewed in the clouds of heaven: sweet, beautiful water! As it sings in the rain-shower and dances in the hail-storm — as it comes sweeping down in feathery flakes, clothing the earth in a spotless mantle of white — always beautiful ! Distilled in the golden tissues that paint the western sky at the setting of the sun, and the silvery tissues that veil the midnight moon — sweet, health-giving, beautiful water ! Dis- tilled in the rainbow of promise, whose warp is the rain- drop of earth, and whose woof is the sunbeam of heaven — sweet, beautiful water ! XXXIII. GENIUS.— Portland Tribune. Genius is displayed not alone in grandeur and magnifi- cence ; it is seen in the cotton-gin, as well as in the Prin- cipia of Newton ; in the Iliad of Homer, as well as in the lever of Archimedes ; it was in the song of Miriam ; it was in the plans of Washington for the surprise of Cornwallis at Trenton ; it was in the daring of Napoleon at the bridge of Lodi. It constructs edifices, fills up valleys, bridges the At- lantic, and hangs the railway on the verge of the mountain cliff. It was the genius of benevolence that sent Howard on his tour of philanthropy, taught Wesley to lay down principles whose existence was to be felt through long vistas of coming generations, and urged Father Mathew, the apostle of tem- perance, to the vast labor he has undertaken of removing a plague-spot from the escutcheon of that land whose genius sterling's southern orator. 71 has filled the world with admiration, as her sons have em- blazoned her name upon the scroll of honor with a pen of fire. Genius was in Caesar's " Veni, vidi, vici ;" it was in the words of Nelson at Trafalgar, "England expects every man to do his duty ;" in the language of Franklin, " Where liberty dwells, there is my country;" in the last speech of Emmett, " Until Ireland is free, let not my epitaph be writ- ten." It was in that thought that adorned the grave of the dead with the weeping-willow, that emblem of perpetual sorrow. Earth, ocean, and the thoughts of eternity are full of genius. XXXIV. EXTENT OF COUNTRY NO BAR TO UNION— 1788. Edmund Randolph. Extent of country, in my conception, ought to be no bar to the adoption of a good government. No extent on earth seems to me too great, provided the laws be wisely made and executed. The principles of representation and respon- sibility may pervade a large as well as a small territory ; and tyranny is as easily introduced into a small as into a large district. Union, Mr. Chairman, is the rock of our sal- vation. Our safety, our political happiness, our existence, depend upon the union of these States. Without union, the people of this and the other States will undergo the un- speakable calamities which discord, faction, turbulence, war, and bloodshed have continually produced in other countries. Without union, we throw away all those blessings for which we have so earnestly fought. Without union, there is no peace, sir, in the land. The American spirit ought to be mixed with American pride — pride to see the Union magnificently triumph. Let that glorious pride which once defied the British thunder reanimate you again. Let it not be recorded of Americans, that, after having performed the molt gallant exploits, after having overcome the most astonishing difficulties, and after having gained the admiration of the world by their incom- 72 sterling's southern orator. parable valor and policy, they lost their acquired reputation, lost their national consequence and happiness, by their own indiscretion. Let no future historian inform posterity that Americans wanted wisdom and virtue to concur in any regular, efficient government. Catch the present moment. Seize it with avidity. It may be lost, never. to be regained ; and if the Union be lost now, I fear it will remain so for- ever. XXXV. HENRY WINTER DAVIS.— Mr. Creswell. The sword may rust in its scabbard, and so let it; but free men with free thought and free speech will wage un- ceasing war until truth shall be enthroned and sit empress of the world. Would to God that he had been spared to complete a life of threescore and ten years for the sake of his country and posterity ! When I think of the wod he would have accomplished had he survived for twenty years, I can say, in the language of Fisher Ames, "My heart, pene- trated with the remembrance of the man, grows liquid as I speak, and I could pour it out like water." At the portals of his tomb we may bid farewell to the faithful Christian, in the full assurance that a blessed life awaits him beyond the grave. Serenely and trustfully he has passed from our sight and gone down into the dark waters. " So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, " And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore, Flames in the forehead of the morning sky." From this hall, where as scholar, statesman, and orator he shone so brightly, he has disappeared forever. Never again will he aiiswer to the roll-call from this desk, respond for his country and the rights of man. No more shall we hear his fervid eloquence in the day of imminent peril, invoking us, who hold the mighty power of peace and war, to dedi- cate ourselves, if necd#bc, to the sword, but to accept no end of the conflict but absolute triumph for our country. He lias gone to answer the great roll-call above, where the sterling's southern orator. 73 "brazen throat of war" is voiceless in the presence of the Prince of Peace. Let us habitually turn to his recorded ' words, and gather wisdom as from the testament of a de- parted sage. For the Christian, scholar, statesman, and orator, all good men are mourners ; but what shall I say of that grief which none can share, the grief of sincere friendship ? O my friend ! comforted by the belief that you, whilst living, deemed me worthy to be your companion, and loaded me with the proofs of your esteem, I shall fondly treasure, during my remaining years, the recollection of your smile and counsel. Lost to me is the strong arm whereon I have so often leaned ; but in that path, which in time past we trod most joyfully together, I shall continue, as God shall give me to see my duty, with unfaltering, though perhaps with unskilful step, right onward to the end. Admiring his brilliant intellect and varied acquirements, his invincible courage and unswerving fortitude, glorying in his good works and fair renown, but, more than all, loving the man, I shall endeavor to assuage the bitterness of grief by applying to him those words of proud though tearful satisfaction, from which the faithful Tacitus drew consola- tion for the loss of that noble Roman whom he delighted to honor : " Quidquid ex Agricola amavimus, quidquid mirati sumus, manet mansurumque est, in animis hominum, in aeternitate temporum, fama rerum." xxxvi. A WITHERING INVECTIVE.— S. S. Prentiss. Need I dwell longer upon this point ? Need I say that the defendants are no murderers ? that they acted in self- defence, and took life from necessity, not from malice ? But there is a murderer — and, strange to say, his name appears upon the indictment, not as criminal, but as pros- ecutor. His garments are wet with the blood of those upon whoso deaths you hold this solemn inquest. Yonder he sits, allaying for a moment the hunger of that fierce vul- ture, conscience, by casting before it the food of pretended 74 STERLING'S SOUTHERN" ORATOR. regret, and false but apparent eagerness for justice. He hopes to appease the manes of his slaughtered victims — victims to his falsehood and treachery — by sacrificing upon their graves a hecatomb of innocent men. By base mis- representations of the conduct of the defendants, he induced his prudent friends to attempt a vindication of his pre- tended wrongs by violence and bloodshed. His clansmen gathered at his call, and followed him for vengeance ; but when the fight began, and the keen weapons clashed in the sharp conflict — where was this wordy warrior? Ay, "Where was Roderick then ?" No " blast upon his bugle horn 55 encouraged his companions as they were laying down their lives in his quarrel ; no gleam of his dagger in- dicated a desire to avenge their fall — with treacherous cow- ardice he left them to their fate ; and all his vaunted cour- age ended in ignominious flight. Sad and gloomy is the path that lies before him. You will in a few moments dash, untasted, from his lips the sweet cup of revenge ; to quaff whose intoxicating contents he has paid a price that would have purchased the goblet of the Egyptian queen. I be- hold gathering around him, thick and fast, dark and cor- roding cares. That face, which looks so ruddy, and even now is flushed with shame and conscious guilt, will from this day grow pale until the craven blood shall refuse to visit his haggard cheek. In his broken and distorted sleep, his dreams will be more fearful than those of the " false, perjured Clarence ;" and around his waking pillow, in the deep hour of night, will flit the ghosts of his victims, shriek- ing their curses in his shrinking ear. Upon his head rests all the blood shed in this unfortunate strife. But I dismiss him, and do consign him to the furies — trusting, in all charity, that the terrible punishment he must suffer from the scorpion-lash of a guilty conscience will be considered in his last account. XXXVII. TAXATION FOR DEFENCE.— John C. Calhoun. If taxes should become necessary, I do not hesitate to say the people will pay cheerfully. . It is for their government and their cause, and would be their interest and duty to sterling's southern orator. 75 pay. But it may be, and, I believe, was, said that the na- tion will not pay taxes, because the rights violated are not worth defending ; or that the defence will cost more than the profit. Sir, I here enter my solemn protest against this low and "calculating avarice" entering this hall of legislation. It is only fit for shops and counting-houses, and ought not to disgrace the seat of sovereignty by its squalid and vile appearance. Whenever it touches sovereign power, the nation is ruined. It is too short-sighted to defend itself. It is a compromising spirit, always ready to yield a part to save the balance. It is too timid to have in itself the laws of self-preservation. It is never safe but under the shield of honor. Sir, I only know of one principle to make a na- tion great, to produce in this country not the form, but real spirit of union ; and that is, to protect every citizen in the lawful pursuit of his business. He will then feel that he is backed by the government ; that its arm is his arms, and will rejoice in its increased strength and prosperity. Pro- tection and patriotism are reciprocal. This is the road that all great nations have trod. Sir, I am not versed in this calculating policy, and will not ? therefore, pretend to esti- mate in dollars and cents the value of national independence or national affection. I cannot dare to measure in shillings and pence the misery, the stripes, and the slavery of our impressed seamen ; nor even to value our shipping, commer- cial, and agricultural losses under the orders in council and the British system of blockade. I hope I have not condemn-, ed any prudent estimate of the means of a country, before it enters on a war. This is wisdom ; the other, folly. XXXVIII. THE LOVE OF TRUTH.— Rev. James H. Tuorxwell, D.D. This love of truth which I have been endeavoring to recommend will be of the very last importance to you, to guard you against the deceits of the world. Man walketh in a vain show. Untutored by experience, the young par- ticularly are slow to suspect that the prospects of good, of pleasure, opulence, and power, which stretch in rich luxu- riance before them, are an empty pageant. Unskilled in 76 sterling's southern orator. the treachery of the heart and the wiles of the tempter, they can hardly be persuaded that the gilded colors in which imagination adorns the future are only a splendid drapery under which are concealed disappointment, sorrow, and vexation. They have yet to learn the emptiness of pleasure, the agonies of power, and the vanity of wealth. Impetuous in their passions, ardent in their temper, and ignorant of life, they are prone to fix their affections upon some of those beggarly elements which will crumble into ashes at the touch of experience. The prince of darkness, intent upon their ruin, plies his fatal arts of enchantment to lull them into a sleep of false security, to exclude religion from their thoughts, and to conduct them by deceitful promises of good, by lies congenial with his nature, to the shades of death. This, my young friends, is your position, and it is one of immense peril. The world, the flesh, and hell, all conspire, by glossing falsehood, to seduce you to perdi- tion. A covering is spread upon the grave and the pit, and the ways of sin are adorned with all that can please the eye, fascinate the ear, or enchant the heart. Your security against these dangers is conviction of the truth. The word of God, which is preeminently the truth, and in which a truth-loving heart will lead you to rest, dissipates the spell, reveals the snare, and delivers from the plot. It paints life in its true colors, tears the mask from the face of guilt, dis- robes the world of its gorgeous drapery, and points to Him who is emphatically the way, the truth, and the life. All .the rays of moral truth ultimately centre in the cross of the Redeemer ; and we never reach the summit of wisdom until we attain that life which is alike the knowledge of the Father and of His Son Jesus Christ. Every one, says the Saviour, that is of the truth, heareth my voice. None perish but those who love darkness rather than light, A deceived heart turns them aside. XXXIX. ALEXANDER HAMILTON.— J. G. Baldwin. That there is such a nation as the United States — that this nation, answering the wants of the people, has grown to be a first-rate power in the world — that it has run aNbright sterling's southern orator. 77 career of glory, and performed a beneficent mission upon earth — that it has hopes of a farther growth so great that the present seems but the initial point of a grand future — that these things are so is in no small degree owing to the labors and patriotism of Alexander Hamilton. The most popular and brilliant passages of our history are those which imitated his energy, and bore the stamp of his nationality of spirit. And if the flag which symbolizes that nationality has grown to be a sacred thing — if the stars upon it have been lit up with a fadeless lustre — if, on the frontier post, the soldier looks up to it with pride — if, as it floats from the mast-head, the sailor-boy from the shrouds hails it with exult- ing shout as it streams out over his head — if commerce feels safe upon all the paths of the sea — if the citizen is pro- tected in whatever foreign lands — if all the multiplied bless- ings of a free government have become the special heritage of this great people — if the citizen of Massachusetts or of Georgia feels a still higher pride in that he is an American citizen, and, meeting upon common soil, claims and receives the consideration and welcome of national brotherhood — if under the plastic impress of this nationality is illustrated the grateful spectacle of a multitude of men in the full pride and glory of manhood, meeting upon the shores of a strange sea, coming from many places, and reared amidst differing local circumstances and influences, yet becoming moulded into one homogeneous and harmonious people, themselves founders of a new empire : let us, for these things, remem- ber with gratitude the man, the first in genius as the first in energy, who dedicated and who consecrated both to the union of these States, and to the triumph of those national ideas from which such splendid results have come. XIi. DESTINY OF THE UNITED STATES.— H. W. Hilliard. Let no one accuse me of seeing wild visions, and dream- ing impossible dreams. I am only stating what may be done, and what will be done. We may most shamefully betray the trust reposed in us, — we may most miserably 78 sterling's southern orator. defeat the fond hopes entertained of us. We may become the scorn of tyrants, and the jest of slaves. From our fate, oppression may assume a bolder front of insolence, and its victims sink into a darker despair. In that event, how unspeakable will be our disgrace, — with what weight of mountains will the infamy lie upon our souls. Remember that we can have none of those consolations which sustain the patriot who mourns over the undeserved misfortunes of his country. Our Rome cannot fall, and we be innocent. No conqueror will chain us to the car of his triumph, — no countless swarm of Huns and Goths will bury the memorials and trophies of civilized life beneath a living tide of barbarism. Our own selfishness, our own neglect, our own passions, and our own vices will furnish the elements of our destruction. With our own hands we shall tear down the stately edifice of our glory. We shall die by self-inflicted wounds. But we will not talk of themes like these. We will not think of failure, dishonor, and despair. We will elevate our minds to the contemplation of our high duties, and the great trust committed to us. We will resolve to lay the foundations of our prosperity on that rock of private virtue which cannot be shaken, until the laws of the moral world are reversed. From our own breasts shall flow the salient springs of national increase. Then our success, our happi- ness, our glory, will be as inevitable as the inferences of mathematics. The whole will not grow weak by the increase of its parts. Our growth will be like that of the mountain oak, which strikes its roots more deeply into the soil, and clings to it with a closer grasp, as its lofty head is exalted, and its broad arms stretched out. The loud burst of joy and gratitude, which is breaking from the full hearts of a mighty people, will never cease to be heard. No chasms of sullen silence will interrupt its course, — no discordant notes of sectional madness mar the general harmony. Year after year will increase it, by tributes from now unpeopled soli- tudes. The furthest West shall hear it and rejoice — the Oregon shall swell it with the voice of its waters — and the Rocky Mountains shall fling back the glad sound from their snowy crests. sterling's southern orator, 79 XLI. THE BEST MEANS FOR SECURING PEACE.— G. Morris. Sir, I repeat to you that I wish for peace ; real, lasting, honorable peace. To obtain and secur%this blessing, let us, by a bold and decisive conduct, convince the powers of Europe that we are determined to defend our rights ; that we will not submit to insult ; that we will not bear degrada- tion. This is the conduct which becomes a generous people. This conduct will command the respect of the world ; nay, sir, it may rouse all Europe to a proper sense of their situa- tion. They see that the balance of pow T er, on which their liberties depend, is, if not destroyed, in extreme danger. They know that the dominion of France has been extended by the sword over millions who groan in the servitude of their new masters. These unwilling subjects are ripe for revolt. The empire of the Gauls is not, like that of Rome, secured by political institutions. It may yet be broken. But, whatever may be the conduct of others, let us act as becomes ourselves. I cannot believe, with my honorable colleague, that three fourths of America are opposed to vigorous measures. I cannot believe that they will meanly refuse to pay the sum needful to vindicate their honor and support their independence. Sir, this is a libel on the people of America. They will disdain submission to the proudest sovereign on earth. They have not lost the spirit of "76. But, sir, if they are so base as to barter their rights for gold — if they are so vile that they will not defend their honor — they are unworthy of the rank they enjoy, and it is no matter how soon they are parcelled out among better masters. XLlt UNION OF REASON WITH RELIGION.— Rev. TnoMAS F. Davis. The mind which seeks its glory without religion pre- pares itself but wretchedness of existence, and the frenzy of despair. We deny not the supremacy of reason. We would not depreciate the value of knowledge. The very 80 STERLING S SOUTHERN" ORATOR. object of this address has been to elevate both. But never would we separate reason and knowledge from the throne of God. We would not have them to lie in darkness, but to light their fires at the altar of Jesus Christ. We would have the illumination of reason receive guidance and sanc- tion from the u spirit of truth." Let its influence be from holiness — its authority from heaven. In this beautiful blend- ing of the rational and the moral — this union of reason with religion — this mutual progress of mind and holiness, is the true idea of intellectual culture ; in these must we seek our highest accomplishments ; in these, our purest enjoyments. By them we must prepare ourselves to be useful on earth — to be blessed in heaven. Here, then, gentlemen, we would have you start right, and affectionately assure you that now is the time. Seeds are sown within you of glorious light. It is the spring-time of life. The moral earth is opening and yielding under genial influences. The dews and rains from above fall sweetly, gently, productively. Prepare for an abundant and honorable harvest. XLIII. SCEPTICISM.— B. F. Mooke, Esq. Freedom of opinion is a privilege which no tyranny can fetter ; but it is neither safe nor becoming to express every conviction of the mind. By the judgment of the enlighten- ed world, Christianity is essential to the happiness of men, and he that would publicly question its authenticity should stand on higher ground than mere opinion. Has speculative scepticism ever added a feather to the wing of science, or imparted to art a polish, or bestowed on labor a sinew ? What crime has it ever reformed, what virtue improved ? And practical scepticism — has it ever erected a cabin for the unsheltered, furnished a garment for the naked, or provided food for the hungry ? — unlocked a prison door, or given a cup of cold water to the thirsty? — character to an individual, or just renown to a nation ? It is the reported saying of an eminent philosopher, upon seeing an infidel in a tempest beseeching his safety from Providence, that scepticism sterling's southern orator. 81 might do for the land, but was wholly, unsuited to the waves. But it is now more than the precept of wisdom, — it is the experience of a trying age, that whilst, like a coward, it disowns itself amidst the storms of the ocean, it raises like a demon moral storms upon the land. It is fit for no place — neither where the elements frown nor where the ele- ments smile. In the shadow of death it is despair : — in the sunshine of health it is the licentious flame, ready to fire the sleeping passions, and spread their blaze over the institu- tions of justice and mercy. XLIV. RESOURCES OF A CULTIVATED MIND.— Rev. Thomas F. Davis. Happy is the man who, while he lives without, lives also a higher and better life within — who has in his own bosom the invisible power which both sustains life and raises him above its unhappiness and injury. Happy he who can, at any moment, turn aside from its din and its dust, its tumult and its troubles, to calm retreat and refreshing waters ; who can look upon and understand, and yet not be affected by its low employments, its petty cares, its sordid avarice, and its vulgar pleasures. Amid it all, he regards but his own duty. Through it all, with undefiled garments, he passes up to his own castle on a rock. Thence, as from a citadel of strength invulnerable, he looks out upon the poor strug- gles below, not with complacent pride, but with the calm composure of freedom — the pure and blessed serenity of a mind at ease — unmoved and immovable. Here is that which is our own — with which a " stranger intermeddleth not," which no man taketh from us. Here we can smile at the world's frowns — defy its enmity — and defeat its malice. We can ever rise above the infirmities of nature, and exult in that in us which decays not. What a noble instance of the mind's triumph have we in Milton ! With what admi- ration, amounting to reverence, do we behold the poor old blind man, as "broken by the storms of state," and driven from the world, he paid the debt he promised to posterity! With what pathos of feeling do we hear his appeal for thai 82 sterling's southern orator. illumination inwardly which was lost to his bodily organs — and with the faith of a Christian and conscious power of a poet, tune his heart to sacred themes, and fling from it strains that shall never die. XLV. AVARICE AND PRODIGALITY TO BE ALIKE AVOIDED. William H. Battle. Avarice cuts off man from his brother, and concentrates all his hopes, wishes, and affections upon himself. It turns a deaf ear .to the voice of sympathy, and is callous to the calls of gratitude and friendship. Its devotee has no feel- ing, no hope, no love but for self. Cold as his money-bags, his heart grows harder and harder, until it can claim kin- dred with naught but the nether millstone. It is said to be our national vice, whether truly or not, I will not now stop to inquire, but charge you to avoid it as you would the pestilence — fly from its approach as you would the desolat- ing tornado or burning sirocco. But, in shunning Scylla, beware of Charybdis. Prodigality and < extravagance pro- duce results almost as disastrous as those of avarice. Without a proper attention is paid to providing suitably for yourself, and for those of your own household, and the exercise of a prudent economy in the management of your affairs, they will soon become involved, debts will accumu- late, and pecuniary embarrassment and distress will not be slow to follow on ; and then you will have nothing left to you but the name of a freeman ; for a state of indebtedness beyond the ability to pay is essentially a state of slavery. I allude not to the power which the law gives to the credi- tor over the body of his debtor, but to that which he exer- cises over his feelings, his principles, and his character. I mean no offence by the declaration ; but all observation will show that I do not speak too strongly when I say that the con- dition of a debtor, who is utterly unable to meet his engage- ments, is a condition of thraldom — thraldom, not of the body, if you please, but what is infinitely worse — of the soul. In bitter experience of the truth of this remark it sterling's southern orator. 83 was that the poet, in an epistle equally remarkable for beauty of language and correctness of sentiment, advised a young friend: " To catch dame fortune's golden smile, Assiduous wait upon her, And gather gear by every wile That's justified by honor : Not for to hide it in a hedge ; Not for a train attendant ; But for the glorious privilege Of being independent." XLVI. THE TRUE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE.— George Davis, A rich and well-stored mind is the only true philoso- pher's stone, extracting pure gold from all the base material around. It can create its own beauty, wealth, power, hap- piness. It has no dreary solitudes. The past ages are its possession, and the long line of the illustrious dead are all its friends. Whatever the world has seen of brave and noble, beautiful and good, it can command. It mingles in all the grand and solemn scenes of history, and is an actor in every great and stirring event. It is by the side of Bay- ard as he stands alone upon the bridge, and saves the army — it weeps over the true heart of chivalry, the gallant Sidney, as with dying hand he puts away the cup from his parched and fevered lips. It leaps into the yawning gulf with Curtius — follows the white plume of Navarre at Ivry — rides to Chalgrove field with Hampden — mounts the scaffold with Russell — and catches the dying prayer of the noble Sir Harry Vane. It fights for glory at the Granicus, for fame at Agincourt, for empire at Waterloo, for power on the Ganges, for religion in Palestine, for country at Thermopylae, and for freedom at Bunker Hill. It marches with Alexander, reigns with Augustus, sings with Homer, teaches with Plato, pleads with Demosthenes, loves with Petrarch, is imprisoned with Paul, suffers with Stephen, and dies with Christ. It feels no tyranny, and knows no subjection. Misfortunes cannot subdue it, power cannot crush it, unjust laws cannot oppress it. Ever steady, faith- 81 sterling's southern orator. fill, and true, shining by night as by clay, it abides with you always and everywhere. XL VII. IMPORTANCE OF GENERAL EDUCATION.— Wm. B. Shepard. We are trying in this country an extraordinary experi- ment in government, an experiment which gives to numbers the entire and almost exclusive control over the lives, the property, and the well-being of the community. Is it not, then, absurd to contend that it is not the duty of the state to see that every citizen is qualified by education to exercise these delicate and important trusts? Lycurgus, the wisest of lawgivers, when he undertook the reformation of the morals of Sparta, laid the foundation of his system in the education of every citizen who might, by any possi- bility, be called into the service of his country. The sim- plest husbandman prepares his ground with care before he intrusts to it his seed, or before he expects a product. Is it not more absurd to expect order, sobriety of deportment, and all the virtues of a good citizen, , where every wild pas- sion, every vicious propensity, engendered by pride and fostered by ignorance, have been permitted to take root, and choke by their noxious exuberance the few good seed which a generous nature may have planted ? The age of power and force is passing away ; that of artifice and chi- cane is succeeding : the race is no longer to the swift, nor the battle to the strong ; let the understandings of the peo- ple, by which alone they can be effectually controlled, be correctly cultivated, and our fair land will no longer be con- vulsed by those scenes of turbulence and violence which threaten disgrace, if not destruction, to our institutions. Wherever the cause of literature and education is in- volved, be found their firm friends, their steady and unyield- ing advocates ; and rest assured, in doing so, you will do more to advance the cause of virtuous freedom, and to bene- fit your country, than by ages of barren and idle declama- tion about liberty and equality : sterling's southern orator. 85 For earth is sick And heaven is weary of the hollow sounds Which men and nations use, whene'er they speak Of truth and justice. XIiVIII. MAN RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS BELIEF,— Rev. W. S. Plumer, D.D. A modern writer assigns as a reason why man should not be regarded as accountable for his belief, that the oppo- site doctrine leads to persecution. If man were responsible to his fellow-man for his religious belief, then, indeed, those monsters of iniquity who have gloated over the agonies, screams, and mangled limbs of their victims might plead in their justification the doctrine maintained in this lecture. But the Scriptures teach that God alone is Lord of the conscience. " Who art thou that judgest another man's servant ? To his own master he standeth or falleth," is the terrible rebuke of Scripture to all who invade the divine prerogative, and undertake to punish men in matters in which Jehovah has said, " Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord." The pains and penalties due to misbelief of God's testimony, and to all other offences of the same class, can be fitly judged of and condignly inflicted by none but God himself. A more daring outrage cannot be perpetrated by any creature than to rush into the judgment- seat of God, and deal out blows of vengeance for offences the punishment of which the Almighty has reserved ex- clusively to himself. In civil and social affairs men may make us feel their just displeasure for cmr wrong belief and course of action under it ; but in religious affairs an attempt to punish us by the laws and courts of man deserves the execration of men, and will, I doubt not, receive the repro- bation of God, 86 sterling's southern orator. XLIX. SHORT WORDS .*— Rev. G. W. McPhail. That part of our speech which comes from our sires far back in the days of yore is made up in large part of those short words which we can speak with one pulse of the breath and one stroke of the tongue. The stream of time, through a long tract of years, and from lands not our own, has brought down to us a vast drift of new and strange terms, poor as they are long ; and by which w r e lose in strength more than we gain in sound. But the good old stock of words is not lost. They shine out here and there from the heap, in bright points : like stars when a fog dims the air, or the face of the sky is dark with clouds. It will pay us for our toil to mine out these gems, and string them on the chain of our thoughts, which will then shine with a new light ; and, though the tongue may lose in sound, it will be all the more fit to speak all that the deep soul can feel. The heart beats throb by throb, and thus the tongue should keep in tune while it vents the heart's joys and pains. The arts of life and the lore of the head may call for terms cold and long ; but let all that the heart thinks and feels come from the depths of the soul in " thoughts that breathe and words that burn." So sing the rapt bards of earth as they twang the lyre, and when the fire of their souls sheds its own light, and gilds the scene with its own charms. L. % VIRTUE AND INTELLIGENCE WILL DETERMINE OUR NATIONAL DESTINY.— J. Y. Mason. The magnitude of our country's destiny must depend, however, under Providence, upon the virtue and intelli- gence of her individual citizens ; and to all of us, therefore, she addresses the solemn appeal of patriotism and humanity. * It will be observed that all tlie words in the following extract are monosyllables, sterling's SOUTHERN " ORATOR. 87 • While, therefore, we endeavor to appreciate as it deserves our glorious heritage of liberty and happiness, let us also appreciate the vast responsibility by which it is accom- panied ! Living under the only free government on earth, upon us are concentrated the dearest political hopes of man. Wherever glitters the crown of despotism, or faintly throbs the heart of freedom — wherever toil goes unrewarded, or human right is crushed beneath oppression — from patriots of all climes, and the oppressed of every land — come, blended to our ears, voices alike of warning and entreaty ; all invoking us to be faithful to our holy trust, and to preserve it sacredly for the civil redemption of the world. The voices of the past come mingled with the voices of the present, and amid the graves of fallen empires, and the splendid ruins of departed greatness, we gather anew the solemn lessons of individual duty. Let us receive it with submission, and reverence, and awe ; and let it increase the warmth of our patriotism, the earnestness of our virtue, and the devotedness of our toil. If we would discharge aright the duty which we owe our country and to mankind, let us begin by discharging aright the duty which we owe our- selves. " This above -all, to tliine own self be true ; And it rnust follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then he false to any man." LI. IMPORTANCE OP FEMALE SOCIETY IN THE IMPROVEMENT OF MIND AND CHARACTER.— James Iredell. Woman has been ordained to perform a most important part in the moral government of the world. The mother forms the first rudiments of the infant mind, and instils into the infant bosom the first principles of virtuous action. The sister refines and softens the harsher manners and more turbulent feelings of the brother. The passion for a vir- tuous mistress purifies the sentiments and elevates the thoughts of the lover ; while she binds him in the chains of despotism only to lead him in the paths of honor. The wife brings to the aid of her husband a tender sympathy 88 STERLING'S SOUTHERN ORATOR. that robs sorrow of its sting ; a fortitude that never quails beneath calamity or distress ; a prudence ever vigilant, and an instinctive sagacity that never falters. Such was the in- fluence of woman, even in the days when her sole titles to admiration and respect were her personal charms and the virtues of her heart. Happily, in our time, education, without diminishing these claims, has added others of the highest character. The cultivation of her intellect has left man little to boast of his assumed superiority. Where can you meet united such refined intelligence, such delicacy of taste, such purity of thought, such utter loathsomeness of vice in every shape ; such fortitude in every situation in which we are called on to bear and to suffer, as in woman ? Can you fail to be improved by an association which offers to you such examples, clothed in the most captivating form ? Not only will you feel the influence on your mental powers, but your sentiments will be freed from all their grossness. In youth, there can scarcely be found a more efficient cor- rective of vicious propensities than the society of virtuous and enlightened woman. LII. QUEER PEOPLE.— Anonymous. " On, dear, oh ! this world quite strange is, Every day brings forth new changes I" That's a fact ! Indeed, these changes sometimes come so fast that a fellow can't keep up with them. Well, well ; this is a queer world. No, it isn't, either. I've made a mistake — 'tis a pretty snug little affair, after all. 'Tis the people that are queer. Ah ! now I have the right end of the rope. Yes ; there are a great many queer people in this pretty, rolling world of ours. But of all the queer people here below, the croaking, growling, grumbling, gossiping, snarling, snapping, sour, sulky, fidgety, fretful, fault-finding, tattling, backbiting spe- cies are the queerest. And they are queer ; or else I don't understand the word. They think every body wrong but themselves ; and I'm sure that's queer. 5 Tis queer they can't see that the best sterling's southern orator. 89 people in the world are the most candid, open-hearted, affable, kind, charitable, free, and unsuspecting ; but then they wouldn't be queer, if they saw it ; and, as they love to be queer, they won't see it ! It is queer they don't know that people who deserve the most censure themselves are most apt to be always blaming I and scolding their neighbors. It is queer they never found out that those who are so keen-sighted as to see only other peoples faults are stone- blind in seeing their own. 'Tis queer they never learned the application of the Sa- viour's words to their own case : "Thou hypocrite, first cast the beam out of thine own eye." Yes ; 'tis queer ; but then, if all this wasn't queer, they wouldn't be queer ; and then they'd fight with themselves ; or, like the Kilkenny cats, eat themselves for being like other people. And so they go through life, fretting at every thing that isn't as queer as themselves. A fretting man or woman is something like a wasp ; (how- ever, to the honor of the wasp be it said, he won't sting you unless you disturb him ;) but a fault-finding, fretful, peevish, dissatisfied mortal goes through life, buzzing and stinging without provocation. Ah ! my friends, never get queer! It is useless. It makes nothing come out right. It sets no broken bones ; it stops no leaks ; it gathers no spilt milk ; it mends no smashed pitchers ; it fattens no pigs ; it cures no spoiled hay ; it saves no damaged grain ; it changes no east wind ; it makes no- body love you ; it only makes people laugh ; for they know that barking dogs never bite. I wonder if there are any queer people in this house ? I reckon not, though. Lin. AMERICAN WOMEN.— J. Y. Mason. Devoted in patriotism, and ever ready to act on the noble principle, Solus reipublicm suprema lex, our countrymen have yet neglected nothing which was calculated to adorn domestic life and promote individual happiness. Female 90 sterling's southern orator. education has, therefore, always been a subject of primary attention. Elevated to her appropriate position in society, adorned, refined, and accomplished by careful instruction, the Ameri- can woman is the happy companion of the American free- man y gladdening his heart by her smile of confidence and love, and cheering him in his great career of public duty by her voice of counsel and approbation. Glorious as our institutions are, their fruit would have turned to ashes without the lovely association of the softer sex, fitted by education to be the friend, the joy, the pride of American patriots. LIV. WASHINGTON AND CLAY.— R. M. Charlton. Above the bosom of the broad Potomac, a hill lifts its head on high, and throws its shadows on the dancing wave. There, on that gentle declivity, is a vault, and there, fast mouldering into dust, is a noble and gallant heart, that throbbed once with the purest patriotism, the highest, loftiest courage. There withers the arm that struck down the hosts of the enemy, and flung to the breeze the banner of our freedom. There, the feet are at rest that plunged through ice and snow, that trod the burning sands ; and the mind that conceived, and the spirit that nourished, and the iron energy that executed, and the bold and noble man whose form contained all these, and to whom, under God, we this day owe our greatness and glory, all are buried there. No unhallowed foot tramples upon that sacred soil. The rude laugh is hushed, and the fierce strife restrained ; and with tearful eyes, and uncovered brows, generations have stood, generations will stand, around and about the grave of Washington. And why? Was it simply because he was a mighty warrior? So was Napoleon. Was it because he struck boldly for his country's honor ? So did thousands besides him. It was these ; but it was more. It was because he added to his powerful mind the pure and lofty principles of morality, and crowned the rest by a heavenly faith, a confiding hope, a holy life. - sterling's southern orator. 91 Never be ashamed, my young friends, of being esteemed religious. If any mock you, if any ask you what courageous, what noble mind has ever embraced its holy teachings, point them to that tomb, beside yon bounding river, and answer, " Washington." Another name should here be mentioned. The tears are still in the eyes of this great nation, the heart of our country is still throbbing with unfeigned sorrow, at the loss of one who was chief among the orators, the patriots, the sages of America. Amid the pride of station, the crowd of honors, the cheering uproar of applause ; surrounded by prosperity, by friends, by fame, — the still, small voice of the messenger from heaven whispered to his heart, " All this is not thy rest; follow thou me." And he obeyed; first doubtfully, then willingly, and at the close gladly ; and so life sweetly, beautifully passed away, leaving the name of Henry Clay dear to us for his brave, and patriotic, and splendid achieve- ments, but dearer to the Christian heart for the humility, and faith, and hope which clustered around life's closing scenes. Tread we lightly over his honored grave ! Mourn we bitterly our country's loss, cherish we ever his glorious memory ! And believe not, my friends, that these are the only examples I could bring : ten thousand times ten thou- sand of bright and pure intellects, of indomitable, fearless courage, have acknowledged the same sway, have worshipped at the same shrine, have gloried in this homage and given their blood as a cement to their faith. LV. PROFANE SWEARING.— Rev. R. Hall. Among the proofs of the degeneracy of our manners is that almost and universal profaneness which taints our daily intercourse. In no nation under heaven, probably, has the profanation of sacred terms been so prevalent as in this Christian land. The name even of the Supreme Being Himself, and the words He has employed to denounce the punishments of the impenitent, are rarely mentioned but in anger or in sport ; so that, were a stranger to our history to witness the style 92 STERLING'S SOUTHERN" ORATOR. of our conversation, lie would naturally infer that we con- sidered religion as a detected imposture ; and that nothing more remained than, in return for the fears it had inspired, to treat it with the insult and derision due to a fallen tyrant. It is difficult to account for a practice which gratifies no passion and promotes no interest, unless we ascribe it to a certain vanity of appearing superior to religious fear, which tempts men to make bold with their Maker. If there are hypocrites in religion, there are also, strange as it may appear, hypocrites in impiety, men who make an ostentation of more irreligion than they possess. *" An ostentation of this nature, the most irrational in the records of human folly, soems to lie at the root of profane swearing. It may not be improper to remind such as in- dulge this practice that they need not insult their Maker to show that they do not fear him ; that they may relinquish this vice without danger of being supposed to bedev out, and that they may safely leave it to other parts of their conduct to efface the smallest suspicion of their piety. LVI. OPPOSITION OF THE SOUTH TO THE TARIFF— 1833. R. Y. Hayne. Let not gentlemen so far deceive themselves as to sup- pose that the opposition of the South to the protecting system is not based on high and lofty principle. It has nothing to do with party politics, or the mere elevation of men. It rises far above all such considerations. Nor is it influenced chiefly by calculations of interest, but is founded in much nobler impulses. The instinct of self-interest might have taught us an easier way of relieving ourselves from this oppression. It wanted but the will to have supplied ourselves with every article embraced in the protective system, free of duty, without any other participation on our part than a simple consent to receive them. But, sir, we have scorned, in a contest for our rights, to resort to any but open and fair means to maintain them. The spirit with which we have entered into this business is akin to that which was kindled in the bosom of our fathers when they sterling's southern orator. 93 were made the victims of oppression ; and if it has not dis- played itself in the same way, it is because we have ever cherished the strongest feelings of confraternity toward our brethren, and the warmest and most devoted attachment to the Union All parties have for years past been looking forward to this crisis for the fulfilment of their hopes, or the confirmation of their fears. And God grant that the result may be auspicious. Sir, I call upon gentlemen on all sides of the House to meet us in the true spirit of conciliation and concession. Remove, I earnestly beseech you, from among us, this never-failing source of contention. Dry up at its source this fountain of the waters of bitterness. Restore the harmony which has been disturbed — that mutual affection which has been impaired. And it is in your power to do it this day ; but there is but one means under heaven by which it can — by doing equal justice to all. LVII. ALCOHOL. What is alcohol — the intoxicating principle in all spirit- uous liquors — and from whence is it obtained ? Is it one of those good things which a bounteous Providence has given for the comfort and happiness of man ? Ask nature in all her wide domain, explore her secret laboratories, for this mighty agent, and the indignant response reverbe- rates through the deep caverns of earth — It is not in me. Neither the mineral, animal, nor vegetable world know aught of alcohol. Chemistry has never yet found it among the compounds built up by plants. The solar beam which reaches, like the finger of God, across the abyss of space, and in the laboratory of vegetation takes to pieces poison- ous gases and puts together their atoms in new groups, which are capable of nourishing the animal body — this celestial force never arranged together the atoms which form alcohol. On the contrary, it is a product of dissolution — of the wreck and decomposition of the principles of human food. It is the result not of growth, but of decay — not of 94 sterling's southern orator. life, but of death. It has the same origin as those ma- lignant and fatal exhalations which constitute the genius of pestilence — the death and putrefaction of organic matter. It no more forms a part of the cereal grains from the decay and decomposition of which it may be obtained, than does the deadly miasmata that arise from putrid vegetation. LVIIX. MIND.— Rev. A. Baker. Whatever is noble in man is mind : it is his earnest of immortality — the gem which attracts two worlds. Shall man, thus situated, spend his time in tracing out the laws of matter, that shall perish, to the utter neglect of mind, which shall live forever ? Call the science of mind what you will, it must ever stand high in the estimation of the wise and learned, and ever be sought as the pilot and leader, through the narrow defiles in the road that leads to true greatness. But in the study of mind it is not to be expected that we shall be able to pry into its essence ; the end is gained, for all practical purposes, when we trace out the faculties and laws by which it is governed ; nor do we expect so much to obtain practical knowledge as to acquire an ability to wield that which we have already secured. It becomes, then, a matter of the first importance, for every student who pants for high attainment, whose eye is fixed on greatness, to learn skilfully to use his weapon ; he must keep it bright, do it honor in every contest, have it ready for the short- est notice, and victory is his. The mind is the student's weapon of defence — the instrument by which he is to fight his way up to the elevation of his hopes ; and that instru- ment, when properly tempered and sprung, will enable him to dart, like the " bird of the mountains," toward the blaze of every science, " with a wing that never tires, and an eye that never winks." sterling's southern orator. 95 LIX. GENIUS AND LIBERTY.— Rev. E. L. Magoon. The object of this address has been to impress deeply on your minds the fact, illustrated by all history, that the union of genius and thraldom is unnatural and suicidal of all emi- nent success. Remember that the perfection of liberty, virtue, and knowledge is found in the harmonious blending and most exalted cultivation of them all. Education of the most liberal character, and eloquence of the most unrestrict- ed power, are the natural bonds by which republics are held together and perpetuated. No power can drive them to- gether with such speed as eloquence will draw them ; noth- ing can change customs and conquer prejudices like convic- tion. To be the subject of this influence, and to be able to wield it, the mind must be free. Resist, with all the faculties you possess, the invasion of all kinds of tyranny designed to restrict man's endowments and destroy his rights. Seek wisdom at the highest sources, and arm yourselves with a panoply divine. " He is a freeman whom the truth makes free, And all are slaves besides." The Scythians of old at their feasts used to strike the cords of their bows, to remind themselves of danger. Be equally vigilant for your own persons, your country, and your God. Early in life nerve yourself for heroic service. LX. LIVE FOR TOUR STATE.— Ralph Gobkell, Esq. If you were called upon to die in defence of yojir State, I doubt not the sacrifice of life would be cheerfully made ; and if willing to die in her defence, why not willing to live for the advancement of her prosperity, honor, and reputation ? Long may it be ere " The sound of battle's on the breeze," 96 sterling's southern orator. and any of you shall have an opportunity to win bright honor in the defence of your country either from foreign aggres- sion or domestic commotion. Peace has her trophies as well as war, and in her halcyon reign laurels can be gained which are neither "stained with blood nor wet with tears." Let it be your care and study to preserve and improve the institutions handed down from your fathers ; to " develop the resources of your State, — call forth its powers ;" wake its sleeping energies ; "build up and extend its institutions and promote all its great interests," and you will do that for which you will be remembered in after times and honor- ed by future generations. LXI. OUR SAFEGUARD AGAINST DELUSION.— A. O. P. Nicholson. The history of the world furnishes nothing which bears comparison with the past career of our Government in all the elements of greatness and prosperity. Its contemplation fills the patriotic bosom with emotions of national pride, whilst it awakens sentiments of profound gratitude to the overruling Providence who has watched our progress as a people with paternal care. But I am pained to acknowledge that there are "signs in the times" which may well excite fearful apprehensions as to the future. I have been greatly at fault in my observations, if there is not now an alarming tendency in the public mind to yield to strange heresies and delusions which strike at the very foundation of true mo- rality. Imposture, with brazen face, stalks boldly through the land, and crowds of enthusiastic votaries shout around its standard. Under constant professions of reverence and veneration for the Christian system, its very corner-stone is being undermined by the working of a disguised material- ism. Tl^e assaults of infidelity are not now made openly and boldly, as in the days of French atheism, but it may be well doubted whether they are less effective because covert and indirect. The amazing developments in the career of scientific research, which are constantly startling the public mind, seem to have unloosed it from its moorings, to have destroyed all limit to its credulity, and to have impressed sterling's southern orator. 97 it with the conviction that nothing is so absurd as hot to command credence. This entire brood of delusions, from Mormonism to spiritualism, are converging in their ten- dency to one common result — the subversion of the authority of the Bible, and the erection in its place of a system of natural religion. Against the successful spread of such fatal heresies, we have no other protection than in the efficiency of an unyielding adherence to the standard of morals adoptr ed by the Christian system. LXII. AMERICAN PROGRESS.— H. W. Hilliard. Our progress has more than transcended that of the fabled god of the ancients, who, beginning his morning journey in the east, drove his flaming chariot through the sky until he clipped his glowing axle in the western waves. Behind us have sprung up all the blessings of a high civilization ; nor will they disappear beneath the waves of that placid ocean which we have reached in our march. There they will grow and flourish, and their kindling lustre will spread over the Polynesian Islands, and gild the distant shores of Asia with a richer and purer splendor than they have ever enjoyed before. We are yet in the freshness of our youth ; our country, the latest born of the great nations, is like the youngest daughter of King Lear, the fairest of the sisters : " All ! mayst thou ever be what now thou art, Nor unbeseem the promise of thy spring." The horoscope which shone so resplendently over thy birth, O my country, announced a glorious destiny. We have witnessed its grand fulfilment. Berkeley's vision, re- vealed in poetic measures, is fully realized — " Time's noblest offspring is the last." A powerful nation, in the full vigor of her youth, unfurls the banner of freedom, and its mighty folds float over a con- tinent. Thrown out at first against a stormy sky, and in 98 sterling's southern orator. defiance of tyrants, it is bathed to-day in the light of peace ; the eyes of all mankind are fixed upon it as the sign of hope. Shall it be rent asunder ? Shall its stars be quenched and its folds droop ? Shall it live in the memory of mankind only as the sign of fallen power and departed glory ? No ! No, let it float forever, the standard of a republic the proud- est, the happiest, the greatest which the world has ever be- held. Let the sun, as he rises out of the Atlantic wave, gild it with his morning beam ; let him throw his parting splendor upon it as he sinks beneath the placid waters of the Pacific, its gorgeous folds still streaming with undiminished lustre over States, free, powerful, and prosperous, associated in a Union as indissoluble as it is glorious. LXIII. FROM SPEECH ON OREGON.— W. H. Haywood. Mr. President, in coming to the conclusions I have, and w^hich have been expressed to the Senate without evasion or disguise, and in taking my stand, as I believe, alongside of the Executive department of the Government, I took no counsel of Great Britain's strength to make me recede from the extremest claim of my own country. Were it Mexico, or any still weaker and more distracted government, if I know my own heart, I would demand no more from it than I would insist upon against Great Britain, — our rights, our honorable rights, peaceably and in love. From neither, and from no other government in the world, would I take what was not honorable for my own to demand ; nor go to war with any nation for either a profitable or an unprofitable wrong. I must be pardoned, therefore, for giving utterance to the sentiment, that an accusation of this kind against our own Government was neither just nor politic nor patriotic. The rest of the world will be easy to persuade, with Ameri- can senators to instruct them, that our country is mean enough to oppress the weak, and too cowardly to assert our rights against the strong. Great Britain will hardly find in that (if she believed it) a motive for surrendering "all of sterling's southern orator. 99 Oregon" without a fight, even if it should become necessary for her to fight us single-handed for it. So, before God and the Senate, I do abjure and reprobate the sentiment of hatred to any nation as a motive for going back no farther than the offered compromise. The venerated man whose image hangs constantly before us, and whose name should ever be his eulogy in an American Senate— GEORGE WASHINGTON— in his last words to the country, taught us " that the nation which indulges to- ward another habitual hatred is in some degree a slave ;" and the Declaration of American Independence has sancti- fied it as a political maxim of this Republic, " to hold Great Britain, as ice hold the rest of mankind, enemies [only] in war, but in peace friends." There is nothing that has tempted me to forget, and nothing shall drive me to violate, the counsel of my country's father, nor this fundamental maxim of free American institutions. Neither will I teach the people to do it. Good men could not applaud the Senate for it. Heaven would not excuse its practical application, nor fail, perhaps, to visit the consequences upon the nation itself. LXIV. PRIVATE CHARACTER.— A. G. Brown. Mr. Chairman, I have a word or two to say, in conclu- sion, in regard to a practice that has obtained very general- ly in this House, and which is justly esteemed throughout the country as one of bad moral and political tendency, not likely to produce any good, and out of which grow most of our personal broils and disasters. I allude, sir, to the practice of assailing, without reason, the personal and private character of political opponents, and more espe- cially the character of the distinguished men of the country. The character of our great men belongs not to this House or this Congress, but to the whole country. It is the pedestal upon which is built the fairest fabric that hu- man wisdom has ever devised. It is the pillars, the arches, in truth, the edifice itself of our republican government ; destroy this, and the whole fabric totters from its basis, and crumbles into atoms. Rome owed her greatness to her 100 sterling's southern orator. senate, and Greece to her philosophers. In more modern times, the French Chamber of Deputies has given tone and energy and power to a nation's character. England's bright escutcheon has been rendered still more bright by the elo- quence and energy of her sons ; and America, young, happy, proud America, when she has run the full race of a nation's pride, when, having filled the measure of her goodness and greatness, baffled every difficulty, and outstripped all com- petition, she sits quietly down upon the summit of her pecu- liar fame, far above the nations of the earth, she calls the Bisset of the New World to record her history ; she will bid him write upon its fairest page the names of her Calhouns, her Clays, her Websters, and her Bentons ; for to these will she be indebted for her success, her greatness, and her glory. LXV. NO EDUCATION COMPLETE IF IT NEGLECTS THE MORALS, THE MANNERS, AND THE AFFECTIONS. William A. Graham. No system of education, however, would be complete which aimed merely at intellectual culture and attainments, and neglected the morals, the heart, and the affections. Fortunately for us, the culture of these is attended with no difficult and painful study, but is taught in the pages of re- vealed truth. Commencing in infancy around the knees of the mother, our duties are learned in the precepts of the decalogue ; and the heavenly charities of imperfect obliga- tion inculcated in the maxims and parables of the New Testament. All the ethics of the schools, and pure systems of morality among men, but confirm and illustrate these sublime doctrines. And the virtues which are their fruits give to the human character all its loveliness and real dig- nity. While, therefore, generous studies are assiduously pursued, an enlightened moral sense, and an inflexible de- termination to conform your conduct to its dictates, should be habitually cultivated! In this connection, perhaps, it is not below the dignity of the occasion to commend to your attention the culture of the u lesser morals," or a proper standard of manners and conversation, for the same reason sterling's southern orator. 101 assigned by Aristotle for the study of music by the young Greeks, " that so the mind may be taught how honorably to pursue business,' and how creditably to eujoy leisure ; for such enjoyment is, after all, the end of business, and the boundary of active life." LXVI. IMPORTANCE OF A HOME LITERATURE.— William Eaton, Jr. A home literature, such as America ought hereafter to produce, would purify our national taste, elevate the senti- ments of our people, and brighten the golden links that bind the patriot to the land of his birth. It would exalt the reputation of our country abroad, and with posterity, .more than the most heroic achievements of the crimsoned field. How little should we have known of the most re- nowned states of antiquity but for the immortal productions of their orators, their historians, and their poets ! These imperishable memorials of ancient genius and glory are destined to instruct and delight the most distant generations. Centuries, as they have rolled away^ crumbling beneath them the monuments of art and the proud trophies of arms, have only contributed to establish and elevate the fame of the great writers of antiquity. The Greek and Roman classics have been studied and admired in every age and in every land where mankind have been able to appreciate the grand and beautiful in composition. To suppose a time in the history of the world when these finished models of taste shall be forgotten would be to anticipate the arrival of a period compared with which the sombre gloom of the dark ages would be a golden flood of light. LXVII. HON. GEORGE E. BADGER.— R. P. Dick, Esq. Mr. President, I feel that I can with propriety allude to a distinguished man who was a type of conservatism at the commencement of the war. I refer to the lion. George E. 102 sterling's southern orator. Badger, and I have chosen him as an illustration because he is now gone, and " honor's voice cannot now provoke the silent dust, or soothe the dull, cold ear "of death." He fought his last battle for the Union in February, 1861, and gained a glorious triumph. During a long life the Union was the shrine of his political devotion, to which he had carried as offerings the warmest affections of his noble heart and the richest gifts of his splendid intellect. When he saw, as he believed, that hallowed shrine in ruins, he turned from it with a sad heart and joined his fortunes with his own people who had so long honored and loved him. He struggled bravely to maintain the principles of civil liberty in the government of his adoption ; but his hopes were gone, and soon the "silver cord was loosened and the golden bowl was broken" at the fountain of his life. I wish he was here to-day in his vigor and maturity, for he would be to us a guiding light in our thick darkness. The splendid orb which shone so brightly in the noontide of our country's glory went down amidst clouds and storms ; but it has risen in a fairer land, and it will shine in an end- less day. LXVIII. MUSIC— Virginia Herald. Nature, through all her depths, is full of music, varied in its tones and rich in its melody. There is a music in the stillness of the twilight hour ; in the voices of the balmy breeze, as it sighs amid the stirring leaves of the starlit grove or sleeps upon the calm bosom of the reposing waters ; in the thunderings of the foaming cataract ; in the ripplings of the mountain rill, and the majestic voice of the storm-stirred sea. There is music in the glad sym- phonies of the joyous songsters of the grove beneath, and the mutterings of the thunders above ; in heaven ; on earth ; in the outspread skies and invisible air ; in the solitary dell, and on the mountain's cloud-veiled top, where human footsteps have never left an echo ; in the deepest cells of the passion-stirred heart, and the inanimate depths of the material world ; in the dim rays of earth, and the beams of those celestial lights which gem the high firma- SOUTHERN ORATOR. 103 merit and light the angels to their evening orisons ; in the tones of woman's voice on earth, and the devotions of the pure spirits of a better land ; in all, through all, and over all, and forever vibrating, the rich music of universal har- mony, and the deep tones of undying melody. Thou- sands of invisible harps are pouring their united melody through the depths of air and earth ; millions of archangels touch their heaven-strung lyres, and send celestial harmony through the vast halls of the temple of the living God. It is the air of earth ; it is the atmosphere of heaven. The unbounded universe is one sleepless lyre, whose chords of love and hope and purity and peace are fanned into a dreamy and mystic melody by the breath of the invisible God. LXIX. THE SOUL OF MAX.— Sauke*. I fend myself in a world where all things declare the perfections of the Creator. The more I consider all the parts, the more I admire the fitness of each to answer the end of Him who created them all. Among numberless productions perfectly correspondent to their destination, I find only one being whose condition does not seem to agree with that marvellous order which I have observed in all the rest. This being is my own soul. And what is this soul of mine? Is it fire? Is it air? Is it ethereal matter? Under whatever notions I consider it, I am at a loss to de- fine it. However, notwithstanding this obscurity, I do per- ceive enough of its nature to convince me of a great dis- proportion between the present state of my soul, and that end for which its Creator seems to have formed it. Such is my soul. But where is it lodged ? Its 2^ ace * s the ground of my astonishment. This soul, this subject of so many desires, inhabits a world of vanity and nothing- ness. Whether I climb the highest eminences, or pry into the deepest indigence, I can discover no object capable of filling my capacious desires. I ascend the thrones of sover- eigns, I descend into the beggar's dust ; I walk the palaces of princes, I lodge in the peasant's cabin ; I retire into the 104 sterling's southern orator, closet to be wise, I avoid recollection, choose ignorance, and increase the crowd of idiots ; I live in solitude, I rush into the social multitude : but everywhere I find a mortifying void. In all these places there is nothing satisfactory. In each I am more unha]3py, through the desire of seeing new objects, than satisfied with the enjoyment of what I pos- sess. At most, I experience nothing in all these pleasures, which my concupiscence multiplies, but a mean of render- ing my condition tolerable, not a mean of making it per- fectly happy. How can I reconcile these things ? How can I make the Creator agree with Himself? There is one way of doing this, a singular but a certain way; a way that solves all difficulties, and covers infidelity with confusion; a way that teaches me what I am, whence I came, and for what my Creator has designed rae. Although God has placed me in this world, yet He does not design to limit my pros- pects to it ; though He has mixed me with mere animals, yet He does not intend to confound me with them ; though He has lodged my soul in a frail, perishable body, yet He % does not mean to involve it in the dissolution of this frame. Without supposing immortality, that which constitutes the dignity of man makes his misery. LXX. THE BIBLE OUR CHART.— W. B. Shepahd. The Bible is our great chart for the ocean of existence. It is a star over which no darkness ever comes — a light that shines on, though storms and desolation oversweep all things else — a spark struck from the divine throne to give day and glory to the world. Keep it ever before you. When you wander, it will point you to the right path ; when you become wounded and weary, you may feel the healing power of its wings ; when you doubt and hesitate, it will give you certainty and decision. Strike it from ex- istence, and the earth itself would almost totter with its load of crime and agony. Take from us all it has done — all it has originated, sustained, or completed — take from us its hallowed and humanizing tone ; its power to bring good sterling's southern orator. 105 out of evil; to make men better and holier, and to restrain bad passions and desires and propensities, and you convert the moral, and, indeed, physical world into a body of licen- tiousness, and anarchy, and carnage. Guard well, then, I conjure you, this sacred treasure. Guard it in your hearts. There, at least, it will be safe. But defend it, also, from the assaults of men. God, it is true, needs no defence, but He works by instruments ; and good must war against evil. And trust not, I tell you, trust not the man who scoffs at the Bible, or openly and repeatedly disregards its funda- mental truths. Trust him not, though he swear by it. LXXI. PROGRESS OF THE AGE.— E. Everett. We need the spirit of "75 to guide us safely amid the dizzy activities of the times. While our own numbers are increasing in an unexampled ratio, Europe is pouring in upon us her hundreds of thousands annually, and new re- gions are added to our domain, which we are obliged to count by degrees of latitude and longitude. In the mean time, the most wonderful discoveries of art and the most mysterious powers of nature combine to give an almost fear- ful increase to the intensity of our existence. Machines of unexampled complication and ingenuity have been applied to the whole range of human industry ; we rush across the land and the sea by steam ; we correspond by magnetism ; we paint by the solar ray ; we count the beats of the elec- tric clock at the distance of a thouand miles ; we annihieate time and distance ; and, amidst all the new agencies of com- munication and action, the omnipotent Press — the great en- gine of modern progress, not superseded or impaired, but gathering new power from all the arts — is daily clothing itself with louder thunders. While we contemplate with admiration — almost with awe — the mighty influences which surround us, and which demand our cooperation and our guidance, let our hearts overflow with gratitude to the pa- triots who have handed down to us this great inheritance. Let us strive to furnish ourselves, from the storehouse of their example, with the principles and virtues which will 106 sterling's southern orator. strengthen us for the performance of an honored part on this illustrious stage. Let pure patriotism add its bond to the bars of iron which are binding the continent together ; and, as intelligence shoots with the electric spark from ocean to ocean, let public spirit and love of country catch from heart to heart. LXXII. TRIUMPHS OP CHRISTIANITY.— Rev. H. B. Bascom. See Christianity springing up, and gaining upon the no- tice of the world, in Jerusalem, Corinth, Athens, Ephesus, and Rome. Its origin at first scarcely known, the country of that origin proverbially despised, denouncing the whole calendar and rabble of pagan gods in the very centres and capitals of the most idolatrous nations ; proscribing pleasure in the midst of w r ealth, pomp, and luxury ; urging the care and interests of the soul among those who regarded its im- mortality as a fable ; inculcating the fear and worship of God where His very existence was unknown or denied ; original, austere, and exacting in the reprobation of sin ; explicit and uncompromising in demanding purity of heart and self- denial of life ; and this amid unbounded licentiousness and crime, — what were its chances, upon any hypothesis involv- ing only human agency, to become the religion of the civil- ized world ? Who could have supposed, under such circumstances of discouragement, that, notwithstanding the paucity of her means and the poverty of her friends, the resistance of civil- ization and the hostility of barbarism, with persecution's ban-dogs, loud and lean, everywhere howling over the wreck of her first altars and early homes, she would, in less than three centuries, see the land of the pyramids and the realm of the Caesars bow, and, subverting the giant might of the imperial Palatine, give her banner to the breeze upon the ruins of the capital of nations ? And this general inference is confirmed further by the fact that Christianity, as a system, was as perfect, as every way complete, at first as it is now. It was not gradually produced. It is not, in any sense, a growth. It exhibited sterling's southern orator. 107 all its perfections, its absolute entireness, at once, without any thing like progressive elaboration. No formative, per- fecting process was appealed to. Original, singular, and apart, it met with no countenance or support from the age in which it appeared. It superseded existing systems by reversing the decisions of antiquity, and stood alone in un- compounded oneness and wholeness, in the isolated, unbor- rowed grandeur of its own nature and pretensions. LXXIII. THE SENTINELS OF LIBERTY.— D. Webster. When the members of this House shall lose the freedom of speech and debate ; when they shall surrender the right of publicly and freely canvassing all important measures of the Executive ; when they shall not be allowed to maintain their own authority and their own privileges by vote, declaration, or resolution, they will then be no longer free representatives of a free people, but slaves themselves, and fit instruments to make slaves of others. Sir, if the people have a right to discuss the official con- duct of the Executive, so have their representatives. We have been taught to regard a representative of the people as a sentinel on the watch-tower of liberty. Is he to be blind, though visible danger approaches ? Is he to be deaf, though sounds of peril fill the air ? Is he to be dumb, while a thousand duties impel him to raise the cry of alarm ? Is he not, rather, to catch the lowest whisper which breathes intention or purpose of encroachment on the public liberties, and to give his voice breath and utterance at the first appearance of danger ? Is not his eye to traverse the whole horizon, with the keen and eager vision of an unhooded hawk, detecting, through all disguises, every enemy advanc- ing, in any form, toward the citadel which he guards ? Sir, this watchfulness for public liberty, this duty of foreseeing danger and proclaiming it, this promptitude and boldness in resisting attacks on the Constitution from any quarter, this defence of established landmarks, this fearless resistance of whatever would transcend or remove them, all belong to the representative character, are interwoven 108 sterling's southern orator. with its very nature, and of which it cannot be deprived, without converting an active, intelligent, faithful agent of the people into an unresisting and passive instrument of power. A representative body which gives up these rights and duties gives itself up. It is a representative body no longer. It has broken the tie between itself and its con- stituents, and henceforth is fit only to be regarded as an inert, self-sacrificed mass, from which all appropriate prin- ciple of vitality has departed forever. LXXIV. EXHORTATION TO YOUNG MEN.— William Eaton. In every situation of human life, and in every relation of society, you should discharge all your duties with scrupulous fidelity. Endeavor to form a character which shall com- mand universal respect, and present to the shafts of calumny an impenetrable shield. Let high honor, inflexible integrity, and ingenuous frankness distinguish your conduct at all times. Abstain from every act as to the moral propriety of which the least difference of opinion can be fairly entertained among men of understanding and worth. The honor of a gentleman, like a soldier's courage, should be very far be- yond suspicion. Let your morals be pure and unexception- able. Shun not only odious and disreputable vices, but also those Avhich may be tolerated by the public sentiment of the neighborhood in which you may reside, and which are apt to present more dangerous allurements to' the young. Practise the virtues of temperance, moderation, and strict self-control. Amiability of disposition and ur- banity in your social intercourse will be equally essential to your usefulness in society and your own happiness. Be careful in the selection of your intimate associates, and faithful to your friends, particularly in their adversity. Cultivate feelings of generous benevolence toward your fellow-man of every color and every condition. Sad would be human existence if the sorrows of afflicted humanity should find no cheering sympathy in the breasts of the intelligent, the educated, and the refined. Let all of the influence which you may be able to exercise in society be sterling's southern orator. 109 exerted for purposes which are dear to the patriot, the philanthropist, and the Christian. LXXV. THE DUTIES OF AMERICAN STATESMEN.— John Bell. To calm the rising elements of discontent, to assuage the feverish symptoms of the body politic, is the business, of every American statesman. An American statesman ! Who and what are the duties and attributes of an American statesman at this day ? They are, or they ought, to account themselves the high-priests of liberty, administering her rites for the benefit of her disciples in every country ; for this favorite people first, and then for all the nations. Such is the high and noble calling of an American statesman. What is the first great care of an American statesman ? To preserve our free institutions. I will not go into an argument to show that the only effective mode of discharg- ing this great trust is to preserve and cherish the Union. That is an axiom in American politics, I trust, too firmly established to be overthrown by the theories of any new professors in the science, however distinguished for genius and talents. What is the next great duty of American statesmen ? So to administer their offices as to secure com- fort and happiness to the greatest number of the citizens of this free country. These are the whole law and the prophets for the guidance of our statesmen. These are the sum of all the commandments in the book of our political faith. LXXVI. HON. ANDREW P. BUTLER, OP S. C— J. Y. Mason. Born, nurtured, and reared in one the most gallant Stales of the " Old Thirteen," he loved and venerated her fame with instincts that were truly filial ; and as a child would defend a parent from insult or wrong, you have marked hia form dilate, and his eye kindle and Hash defiance, Whenever 110 sterling's southern orator. called to vindicate the fame or honor of his State. His de- votion and his first duty were to South-Carolina ; yet, on the broader theatre of a common country embracing all the States, his views were liberal, catholic, and fair ; giving to each section its just and full share in whatever benefits or advantages flowed from a common government. There his public service was directed with a single eye to the public good. I have thus attempted, Mr. President, feebly to portray the senator and the statesman as he stood confessed before the country. But it was in the social and domestic circle, in paths not opened to the common view, that the richest gifts of nature to man, the latent virtues of the heart, shone with a lustre all their own. There was not an impulse there that was not generous, genial, and confiding. He sympa- thized with his race, and his whole race. If it was his for- tune at some time " debellare saperhos" that more grateful emotion was ever his, " parcere victis" But I should not detain you longer with this poor memo- rial of the gallant dead. He sleeps beneath the soil of his own loved Carolina, amidst those who loved and honored him in life, and who received his last sigh in death. LXXVII. THE DANGERS FROM POLITICAL AGITATIONS. Axbeiit G. Brown. We have a country a common country, a country clear to him and to me ; to you, sir; to one and to all of us. That country is in peril. The hearts of stout men begin to quail. Thousands and hundreds of thousands of our people believe that the Union is even now rocking beneath our feet. The senator has it in his power to put a stop to all this agita- tion. If he will but say to the angry waves, "Peace, be still," calmness will settle on the great deep of public senti- ment. Whether he thinks so or not, he is the very life and soul of this agitation. If he stood now where he stood at the passage of this bill, with his Democratic friends, sup- porting the strong arm of a President who dares to do his duty in defiance of all danger, there would not have been a sterling's southern orator. Ill ripple on the surface, or, if there had been, it would ha\e subsided and died away in the great ocean of oblivion where other ripples have gone, and we should almost without an effort introduce Kansas into the Union. Sir, the senator from Illinois gives life, he gives vitality, he gives energy, he lends the aid of his mighty genius and his powerful will to the opposition on this question. If ruin come upon the country, he, more than any other and all other men, will be to blame for it. If freedom shall be lost — if the Union shall fail — if the rights of man shall perish on earth — if desolation shall spread her mantle over this our glorious country — let not the senator ask who is the author of all this, lest ex- piring Liberty, with a death-rattle in her throat, shall an- swer to him as Nathan answered David, "Thou art the LXXVIII. THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY.— M. R. H. Garnett. Tes, sir, property is not the creature of legislation ; but it is coeval with government, with society, with man himself. It springs from those instincts and capacities with which man is endowed by his Creator, and which find their inevi- table development in his social institutions — the power to love, which becomes real in the family and its relations. Property, in all its varieties and incidents, arises from the power and the wish to subdue the material world, to endow matter with the forms of mind, to contract with his fellow ; from the capacity and instinct of the superior races to com- mand, and of the inferior to obey, and thus mutually to aid each other in fulfilling the work of God in the universe. Upon these instincts, divinely implanted in the human breast, spring the relations of the family and the rights of property — the primordial elements of man's social existence — and to protect and preserve them is the primary object of government, which divine Providence instituted when man was created a political as well as a social being. Therefore, it is true that the rights of property exist in- dependently of,«and above, constitutional sanction. 112 sterling's southern orator. LXXIX. THE LAW OF GOD.—L. M. Keitt. The law of God, Mr. Chairman, is an equation, full and complete, made up of the modern dispensation and the old covenant. They are both results of divine counsels and ex- ponents of divine truth. You cannot touch any of its ele- ments, you cannot add to or subtract from either of the terms, without vitiating the result. The curse is upon those who would do so. Did I require any proof of the subsist- ence of that law and of the verity of the Book in which it is written, I would find it in the character of the awfully terri- ble language in which the penalties of infraction are written out in every variety of form and for every vicissitude of time. It is not the growth of human thought, nor yet the expression of human speech. It has the unmistakable stamp of divine conception and divine utterance. Save where it has pleased the Maker to modify it, it stands as the expression of His unchanged will. It rings, as it has rung through the lapse of ages. It speaks, as -it has spoken across the chasms of revolutions, above the tramp of genera- tions steadily treading on their pilgrimage to the grave ; it speaks, even now, with the most appalling denunciations which it may be given to the mind of man to conceive. It is useless for our politico-religious theologians to shriek out, " Old dispensation and old law ; it had its time, and it has passed away for a better and a higher law." What, sir, higher and better law coming from God? This is impious, sir, beyond utterance. This is lending to unerring wisdom the failings and imperfections of the human mind* Man may grope away at higher and better laws ; but God in- tuitively and ever wills the highest and the best. LXXX. THE TEMPERANCE REFORM.— John B. Gough. Of those who began the temperance reform, some are living to-day ; and I should like to stand now and see the mighty enterprise as it rises before them.. They worked sterling's southern orator. 113 hard ; they lifted the first turf, prepared the bed in which to lay the corner-stone; they laid it amid persecution and storm ; they worked under the surface, and men almost for- got that there were busy hands laying the solid foundation far down beneath. By and by they got the foundation above the surface, and then commenced another storm of persecu- tion. Now we see the superstructure, pillar after pillar, tower after tower, column after column, with the capitals emblazoned: "Love, truth, sympathy, and good-will to all men." Old men gaze upon it as it grows up before them, They will not live to see it completed, but they see in faith the crowning copestone set upon it. Meek-eyed women weep as it grows in beauty ; children strew the pathway of the workmen with flowers. We do 'not see its beauty yet; we do not see the magnifi- cence of the superstructure yet, because it is in course of erection. Scaffolding, ropes, ladders, workmen ascending and descending, mar the beauty of the building ; but, by and by, when the hosts who have labored shall come up over a thousand battle-fields, waving with bright grain, never again to be crushed in the distillery ; through vine- yards, under trellised vines with grapes hanging in all their purple glory, never again to be pressed into that which can debase and degrade mankind ; when they shall come through orchards, under trees hanging thick with golden, pulpy fruit, never to be turned into that which can injure and debase; when they shall come up to the last distillery, and destroy it, to the last stream of liquid death, and dry it up ; to the last weeping wife, and wipe her tears gently away; to the last little child, and lift him up to stand where God meant that mankind should stand ; to the last drunkard, and nerve him to burst the burning fetters, and make a glorious^ accompaniment to the song of freedom by the clanking of his broken chains, — then, ah ! then will the copestone be set upon it, the scaffolding will fall with a crash, and the building will stand in its wondrous beauty before an astonished world. 114: sterling's southern orator. OUR HONORED DEAD.— R. P. Dick, Esq. Mr. President, many radical men at the North insist that the Southern people are not yet sufficiently humiliated, as they talk too much about the skill of rebel generals and the valor of rebel soldiers. This feeling does not prevail with those gallant men who composed the Union army. They know the valor of Southern soldiers, they, and rightly, think that it adds to the glory of their triumph, and, like brave and chivalrous men, they -are willing to extend the utmost generosity to their prostrate rivals. This is the true spirit of chivalry, and it is not expected that the Southern people will give up every feeling that en- nobles and dignifies man. They are not required by any species of loyalty to surrender their holy affections and sacred memories. As they sit in sorrow and poverty beside their desolate hearth-stones, they must and will have nature's privilege of weeping for their noble dead. The South can never yield the pride she feels in the chivalrous gallantry of her children — and she will honor the memory of the dead, and regard the places where they sleep as holy ground. She may raise no proud mausoleum to perpetuate the fame of her heroes ; but her matrons and her maidens will gather the sweetest and freshest flowers of spring to decorate the shrines of their sorrow and affection, and the humble graves of the Southern dead will ever be places sacred to memory and tears. If the South were to act otherwise, she would be untrue to the noblest feelings of the human heart, and she would deserve no name and place in history. The noble and generous people of the North will never complain that the South honors too much the memory of Stonewall Jackson, for he was a noble Christian Jiero. His fame is world wide, and he is ranked with the great and good of every land, and his immortal name is as- sociated with the distinguished captains of ancient and modern times. He is the Chevalier Bayard of the nine- teenth century ; for he fell upon a field of victory, and was u without fear and without reproach." sterling's southern orator. 115 LXXXII. THE PACIFIC RAILROAD.— A. Pike. This project, sir, may be chimerical. It may be chime- rical to attempt to carry on any great work in the South ; but, if so, it is the fault of the Southern States and the Southern people. It is time that we should look about us, and see in what relation we stand to the North. From the rattle with which the nurse tickles the ear of the children born in the South to the shroud that covers the cold form of the dead, every thing comes to us from the North. We rise from between sheets made in Northern looms, and pil- lows of Northern feathers ; we wash in basins made in the North ; we dry our beards on Northern towels, and dress ourselves in garments woven in Northern looms ; we eat from Northern plates and dishes ; our rooms are swept with Northern brooms ; our gardens are dug with Northern spades, and our bread kneaded in trays or dishes of North- ern wood ; nay, the very wood which feeds our fires is cut with Northern axes, helved with hickory brought from Con- necticut and New- York. And so we go on from the beginning to the end. We hardly put any thing on ourselves or in ourselves that does not come from the North. It is high time these things were changed. It is high time that our planters should be taught to know that no country which manufactures noth- ing can still prosper. Are we, sir, to rely on legislation to teach the South to be independent and self-reliant ? Have Ave not the courage, manhood, and resolution to engage vigorously in this great work ? This is the question for us to consider. And, sir, shall we be frightened Try the sneers of the ig- norant and inconsiderate ? If you are not willing to toil for years and to go down to the grave unhonored, you arc not fit to be a laborer in the common weal. If you are willing to struggle against indifference, apathy, and ingrati- tude ; if you are willing to labor for the benefit of men who never bestow a thought upon you ; if you are willing to labor for what is right without the hope of reward, then you are a fit laborer in the cause of your common country. Your country wants soldiers who will stand exposed to 116 sterling's southern orator. the artillery through a long fight and never flinch ; soldiers who love the cause because it is just, whether they are suc- cessful or not. Let us fight on ! LXXXIII. AMERICAN FREEDOM.— -T. F. Meaghek. Why should I not cling, with a proud love and courage, to this republic, her interests, her laws and institutions ? There are many reasons for so doing. It is not merely that I am grateful for the protection and the citizenship insured to me ; it is not merely that I regard this form of govern- ment, and this condition of society, as the finest and most truthful expression of the national will, necessities, intellect, and ambition, which anywhere on this earth exists ; but that I recognize in the stability of the republic a source of strength to other nations, and in her success an incentive with them to a courageous emulation. While this Republic stands — augments her fortune — pro- ceeds upon her high 'career — there is hope for the most abject, decrepit, and disabled of mankind. As the thoughts of the great poet — whether in words or in the marble of the great artist — sometimes waken the most drowsy souls into rapturous activity, so shall the example, the written, the spoken, and the living word of this grand nation rouse the spirit of those who now lie dumb and torpid in the shadow of the thrones that are moored in the full tide of massacre, and in which, as if in the hold of the pirate ship, the plundered liberties of the people, bound and bleeding, are battered down. Austria — the w T hole Germanic family — tongue-tied ; the Rhine stagnant in her bed ; Poland, still the Niobe of na- tions, and her estate and her children cut up and parcelled out among the robbers ; Hungary, with the knife at her proud and beauteous neck ; Italy, locked within her sculp- tured sepulchre, and a profane soldiery keeping watch upon it ; France, grimacing in a masquerade, the glare of which blinds men to the crimes of which that country is the sense- less and the reckless carnival; Ireland, her people decaying and disappearing faster than even the ruins which a ruthless sterling's southern orator. 117 civilization has yet left standing on the soil ; where, where can the eye that scans the history of this day turn with joy, without grief, without vengeance, without despair, unless it be to this great commonwealth, the progress, the im- mensity of which are mapped out in those mighty waters of the West from which I came but yesterday ? Here, here — glory be to Him on high ! — here Freedom stands upon a pedestal higher than the Alps — her spear is lifted to the sun — the rays that flash from it shall descend — descend through the blackest cloud and storm — descend and penetrate the deepest dungeon, and there wake up the oldest prisoner — wake him up not idly to gaze upon the hills and his home far off, but wake him up to wrench the bars that hem him in, and with them slay the sentinel — though he wear a crown, and be impiously hailed the an- ointed of the Lord. lxxxiv. INDUSTRY.— W. Lumpkin. To live in such a world and age as this brings with it im- mense obligations — a world redeemed with the blood of the Son of God ; an age which prpphets and patriarchs de- sired to see, but died without the sight ; a spot of time most interesting in the eye of Heaven, and which, beyond any past period, has witnessed the most splendid achievements of mind over matter. You stand, as it were, under an open- ing heaven, by the tomb of a world rising from the slumber of ages. Can any be stupid, be half awake, in such a day ? Stand erect, I entreat you. Let every nerve, mental and bodily, be strung to action. Give your days and nights to labor and study. Soon you will be ranked among the legislators, magis- trates, or interpreters of the laws or religion of your coun- try. With what diligence, in this spring-season of life, should you prepare yourselves for the faithful discharge of offices so arduous and important! Shall indolence, or the degrading love of ease and pleasure, like a blighting mil- dew, blast your improvement in the bud, destroy the fond hopes of parents and friends, and the speculations of your 118 sterling's southern orator. country ? Rest assured that, without patient industry, the greatest talents and advantages will be fruitless. Look to the Platos and Ciceros of antiquity, the Boyles, Newtons, and Lockes of modern times ; and they all, with one accord, will tell you that industry was the secret by which they were enabled to perform such wonders. LXXXV. EULOGY ON WASHINGTON.— J. M. Mason. It must ever be difficult to compare the merits of Wash- ington's characters, because he always appeared greatest in that which he last sustained. Yet, if there is a preference, it must be assigned to the lieutenant-general of the armies of America. Not because the duties of that station were more arduous than those which he had often performed, but because it more fully displayed his magnanimity. While oth- ers become great by elevation, Washington becomes greater by condescension. Matchless patriot ! to stoop, on public mo- tives, to an inferior appointment, after possessing and digni- fying the highest offices ! Thrice favored country which boasts of such a citizen ! We gaze^vith astonishment ; we exult that we are Americans. We augur every thing great, and good, and happy. But whence this sudden horror ? What means that cry of agony? Oh, 'tis the shriek of America! The fairy vision is fled ; Washington is — no more ! " How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished ! " Daughters of America, who have prepared the festal bower and the laurel wreath, plant now the cypress grove, and water it with tears. sterling's southern orator. 119 LXXXVI. THE MURDERER'S SECRET.— D. Webster. True it is, generally speaking, that " murder will out." True it is, that Providence hath so ordained, and doth so govern things, that those who break the great law of heaven, by shedding man's blood, seldom succeed in avoid- ing discovery ; especially in a case exciting so much atten- tion as this, discovery must and will come, sooner or later. A thousand eyes turn at once to explore every man, every thing, every circumstance, connected with the time and place ; a thousand ears catch every whisper ; a thousand excited minds intensely dwell on the scene, shedding all their light, and ready to kindle the slightest circumstance into a blaze of discovery. Meantime the guilty soul cannot keep its own secret. It is false to itself; or rather it feels an irresistible impulse of conscience to be true to itself; it labors under its guilty possession, and knows not what to do with it. The human heart was not made for the residence of such an inhabitant ; it finds itself preyed on by a torment which it dares not acknowledge to God or man. A vulture is devouring it, and it asks no sympathy or assistance, either from heaven or earth. The secret which the murderer possesses soon comes to possess him ; and, like the evil spirits of which we read, it overcomes him, and leads him whithersoever it will. He feels it beating at his heart, rising to his throat, and demanding disclosure. He thinks the whole world sees it in his face, reads it in his eyes, and almost hears its workings in the very silence of his thoughts. It has be- come his master. It betrays his discretion; it breaks down his courage; it conquers his prudence. When suspicions from without begin to embarrass him, and the net of cir- cumstances to entangle him, the fatal secret struggles, witli still greater violence, to burst forth. It must be confessed ; it will be confessed ; there is no refuge from confession but suicide ; and suicide is confession. 120 sterling's southern orator. LXXXVII. SABBATH-SCHOOLS.— Milford Bard. Mind constitutes the majesty of man — virtue his true nobility. The tide of improvement, which is now flowing like another Niagara through the land, is destined to roll on downward to the latest posterity ; and it will bear to them, on its bosom, our virtues, our vices, our glory, or our shame, or whatever else we may transmit as an inheritance. It then, in a great measure, depends upon the present whether the moth of immorality and the vampire of luxu- ry shall prove the overthrow of the republic ; or knowl- edge and virtue, like pillars, shall support her against the whirlwind of war, ambition, corruption, and the remorseless tooth of time. Let no frown fall upon the hopes of the philanthropist in the cause of the Sunday-school. If its power individually is humble, so is the labor of the silk- worm ; but the united product is immense, it becomes the wealth of a whole empire. We despise the single insect crushed wantonly in our path ; but, united, they have depopulated cities, destroyed fertile fields, and struck terror to nations, becoming more formidable than Caesar or Scipio, than Hannibal or Alexander. The united effort of Sunday-schools may carry intelligence and virtue to millions of minds ; nor does the accumulation of influence cease with their labors, for millions yet unborn may reap the tenfold harvest. Active education is ever on the in- crease; like money, its interest becomes compound, dou- bles, and in the course of years becomes a vast national treasury. Give your children fortunes without education, and at least half the number will go down to the tomb of oblivion, perhaps to ruin. Give them education, and they will accumulate fortunes ; they will be a fortune themselves, to their country. It is an inheritance worth more than gold, for it buys true honor ; they can neither spend nor lose it ; and through life it proves a friend — in death, a deli- cious consolation. Give your children education, and no tyrant will triumph over your liberties. Give your chil- dren education, and the silver-shod horse of the despot will never trample on the ruins of the fabric of your freedom. sterling's southern orator. 121 lxxxviii. THE UNION.— A. P. Butler. Those who have introduced here the doctrines which we are called upon to question have no right to measure the extent of my opposition. What that measure will be I do not know. I am willing to accede to any peaceful consti- tutional measure which will tend to preserve the Union itself; these means may be too long disregarded ; there is a limit. I am astonished when I hear the language some- times used by the representatives from the " Old Thirteen ; " from Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New-York, and New- Jersey, making war upon their brethren of the Southern sections of the Union, which seems to me but the policy that results in their own suicide. They give way to these wild, fanatical suggestions of policy in disregard of those admonitions which should address themselves to them from their past history, as well as in view of their future destiny. They are waging a war against their interest under the influence of feelings which were inculcated by their ancestors, and sowing the seeds of disunion. I have said what I designed to say at this time ; but with it I would, if I dared, make a suggestion to the adminis- tration, which has now, in a measure, the control of the destinies of this country ; and it would be that they should not experiment upon the disaffection which exists in one por- tion of this Union. I know, sir, it is deeper, far deeper, than has ever been exhibited on this floor. I fear it has been too much disguised. And it is not confined to South-Carolina, as some seem to consider. Some would be glad to see her isolated from others, and thereby made an easier victim. The people of other Southern States are speaking out, and, if events are not arrested, there will be but one voice, and that voice will come from the mass of the people. The press and politicians cannot much longer delude them. What State may be the first to be involved in measures of resistance I know not. South-Carolina has sometimes cried out as a sentinel. But there are others having greater interests at stake, and which will be put ultimately in great danger. They will look tfptheir security and in- terests, and all will move as one man. It is for those who 122 sterling's southern orator. have the destinies of this nation in their hands to say how far they will respect the feelings of the South. LXXXIX. FALSE COURAGE.— Channing. Courage, considered in itself, or without reference to its origin and motives, and regarded in its common manifesta- tions, is not virtue, is not moral excellence ; and the dis- position to exalt it above the spirit of Christianity is one of the most ruinous, delusions which have been transmitted to us from barbarous times. In most men courage has its origin in a happy organization of the body. It belongs to the nerves rather than to the character. In some it is an instinct bordering on rashness. In one man it springs from strong passions obscuring the idea of danger ; in another, from the want of imagination, or from the capacity of bringing future evils near. The courage of the uneducated may often be traced to stupidity, to the absence of thought and sensibility. Many are courageous from the dread of the infamy absurdly attached to cowardice. One terror expels another. A bullet is less formidable than a sneer. To show the moral worthlessness of mere courage, of con- tempt of bodily suffering and pain, one consideration is suffi- cient. The most abandoned have possessed it in perfection. The villain often hardens into the thorough hero, if courage and heroism be one. The more complete his success in searing conscience and defying God, the more dauntless his daring. Long-continued vice and exposure naturally gen- erate contempt of life and a reckless encounter of peril. Courage, considered in itself, or without reference to its causes, is no virtue, and deserves no esteem. It is found in the best and the worst, and is to be judged according to the qualities from which it springs and with which it is con- joined. sterling's southern orator. 123 xc. TRUE COURAGE.— Chaining. There is a virtuous, glorious courage ; but it happens to be found least in those who are most admired for bravery. It is the courage of principle, which dares to do right in the face of scorn, which puts to hazard reputation, rank, the prospects of advancement, the sympathy of friends, the admiration of the world, rather than violate a conviction of duty. It is the courage of benevolence and piety, which counts not life dear in withstanding error, superstition, vice, oppression, injustice, and the mightiest foes of human improvement and happiness. It is moral energy, that force of w r ill in adopting duty, over which menace and suffering have no power. It is the courage of a soul which rever- ences itself too much to be greatly moved about what be- falls the body ; which thirsts so intensely for a pure inward life, that it can yield up the animal life without fear ; in which the idea of moral, spiritual, celestial good has been unfolded so brightly as to obscure all worldly interests ; which aspires after immortality, and therefore heeds little the pains or pleasures of a day ; which has so concentred its whole power and life in the love of godlike virtue, that it even finds a joy in the perils and sufferings by which its loyalty to God and virtue may be approved. This courage may be called the perfection of humanity, for it is the ex- ercise, result, and expression of the highest attributes of our nature. XCL WEALTH.— E. A. Nisbet. 'Who does not honor the princely dispenser of good gifts, and the royal reliever of many wants ? It is his vocation to bless, and his privilege to receive benedictions. Under his auspices the artist fights his way to distinction, the poet scales the summit of Parnassus, the scholar vanquishes the resistance of science, and the church builds her altars and dedicates her temples. There is another class of Mam- 124 sterling's southern orator. mon's worshippers, whose desires for gold are more inordi- nate than Caesar's for dominion, and less scrupulous than Napoleon's for empire. To amass it, all energies are strain- ed, all appetites conquered, all principle banished, and all honesty discarded. And it is not for its enjoyments, its independence, or its power ; it is simply to be conscious of coin, and cognizant of dollars ; to reign upon 'Change and to be pointed at upon the Rialto ; to preside over an estate, like the spirit of opulence over the caverns of Potosi, or the genius of avarice over the pits of Golconda. He whose only ambition it is to be rich, even for the innocent pleasures money can give, is greeted with but little respect, although he may in- duce no censure. Whilst he who acquires gain in order to dispense its blessings to the poor, or to furnish the means of full, untrammelled action to enlarged intelligence and expansive benevolence, is loved by all and condemned by none. He is the steward of God's mercies, and the agent of his divine beneficence. But he from whom pity cannot wring a pittance, or famine a crumb, or friendship a token, is of all men the most supremely contemptible, and of all small things the most diminutively little. XCII. MAJESTY OF INTELLECT.— Rev. G. S. Weaver. From time immemorial intellectual endowments have been crowned with bays of honor. In all times and nations intellect has been the idol-god of the human race. Men have worshipped at its shrine with an Eastern idolatry. Men of great intellect have been regarded as demigods. The mul- titude have looked upon them with awe-struck wonder. An impression has been felt, as of the presence of a grand and solemn agent of spiritual majesty and power. With cheer- ful and reverent hands the world has crowned intellect with its richest honors. Its pathway has been strewn with flow- ers ; its brow has worn the loftiest plume ; it has sat upon the proudest throne ; it has held the mightiest sceptre of power. This general, universal adoration of intellect is sterling's southern orator. 125 proof at once both of its transcendent worth^ and power. But evidences mightier than these are standing thick as stars in night's diadem, all through the universe, proclaim- ing the worth and power of that which produces thought, and adapts ends to means. By intellect divine came the earth, rolling her vast cir- cuit among the numberless hosts of the family of worlds, with all its rich and gorgeous furniture. By intellect divine came the glory-flashing magnificence of heaven ; its blazing suns lit beyond suns that roam and. shine through the measureless spaces of immensity. By intellect human came the secondary creations that mark with the chiselled lines of thought and skill the career of man — the cultivated fields, the vine-clad hills, tha mill-strewn vales, the love-lit homes, the village-decked plains, the city-girt continents, the steamer-covered streams, the wire- woven and iron-bound lands, and sail-wreathed oceans. By intellect came all the stirring, sublime, mystery-woven realities of the universe. Then is it not worthy of our attention ? And though but a feeble spark be ours, should it not be cultivated? XCIII. SHALL OUR LAURELS WITHER?— A. P. Harcoubt. From France and England America can expect nothing. Should our internal commotions and sectional animosities once carry our nation to the verge of disunion and certain destruction, we can look for no conciliatory interference on the part of these crafty powers. TVTe are now already dis- united in sentiment ; and the harmony and brotherly feel- ing, that were wont to prevail, no longer manifest them- selves, as of yore, in a love of our great and flourishing Re- public — in a determination to stand by the Union and our star-lit banner, when invaded and attacked by traitors from within and foes from without ; our hearts have grown cold, a cloud is on our brow, and we are not prepared for the com- ing storm. Already has the war whoop been raised by the crowned heads of Europe, and the cry has gone forth, that the great luminary of the Western World is on the wane ; that her 126 sterling's southern orator. light in the political heavens is beginning to grow dim ; that soon she will sink into eternal gloom, never, never to rise again. Shall it be ? Shall the eagle be stopped in his lofty flight ? Proud bird ! shall they tear from thee thy plumage ? Shall they pluck from thee that quill that is to record on the scroll of time great America's fall? Shall our laurels wither? Forbid it, Almighty God ! Forbid that the flag of a Warren, the martyr — of a Wash- ington, the hero, the sage, the patriot — that the flag which first floated to the breeze from the heights of Bunker's Hill, and which afterward streamed aloft from over Independ- ence Hall, and which now waves over twenty millions of people, the lights of the habitable globe — forbid that it should ever be lowered to a foreign foe ; but if it must be lowered, if it must be struck, great God forbid that it should be by a parricidal hand ; rather let it be by some Philip — ay, a Xerxes with his million of men ; but ere then it shall fall, Americans! — yes, you Kentuckians! — let us gather around the venerable staff, and as each raises his right hand to heaven, and clasps the flowing folds with his left, let us swear our laurels shall never wither. xcrv. MAN'S DESTINY.— G. D. Prentice. It cannot be that earth is man's only abiding-place. It cannot be that our life is a bubble cast upon the ocean of eternity, to float a moment upon its waves, and sink into nothingness. Else why is it the high and glorious aspira- tions, which leap like angels from the temple of our hearts, are forever wandering unsatisfied ? Why is it that the rain- bow and cloud come over us with a beauty that is not of earth, and then pass off to leave us to muse on their loveli- ness ? Why is it that the stars, which " hold their festival around the midnight throne," are set above the grasp of limited faculties, forever mocking us with their unapproach- able glory ? And finally, why is it that bright forms of hu- man beauty are presented to our view and taken from us : leaving the thousand streams of our affections to flow back in Alpine torrents upon our heart ? We are born for a sterling's southern orator. 127 • higher destiny than that of earth. There is a realm where the rainbow never fades, where the stars will be spread out beforeus like the islands that slumber on the ocean, and where the beautiful beings which pass before us like sha- dows will stay forever in our presence. xcv. THE LITTLE ORATOR.— Rev. T. M. Harris. Prat, how should I, a little lad, In speaking, irtake a figure ? You're only joking, I'm afraid — Do wait till I am bigger. But since you wish to hear my part, And urge me to begin it, I'll strive for praise with all my heart, Though small the hope to win it. I'll tell a tale how Farmer John A little roan-colt bred, sir, And every night and every morn He watered and he fed, sir. Said Neighbor Joe to Farmer John, " Arn't you a silly dolt, sir, To spend such time and care upon A little, useless colt, sir ?" Said Farmer John to Neighbor Joe, " I'll bring my little roan up, Not for the good he now can do, But will do when he's grown up." The moral you can well espy, To keep the tale from spoiling ; The little colt, you think, is I — I know it by your smiling. 128 sterling's southern orator. And now, my friends, please to excuse My lisping and my stammers ; . I, for this once, have done my best, And so, I'll make my manners. xcvi. POWER OF ELOQUENCE.— Tupper. Come, I will tell thee of a joy which the parasites of pleas- ure have not known, Though earth, and air, and sea have gorged all the appetites of sense. Behold, what fire is in his eye, what fervor on his cheek ! That glorious burst of winged words ! — how bound they from his tongue ! The full expression of the mighty thought, the strong, tri- umphant argument, The rush of native eloquence, resistless as Niagara, The keen demand, the clear reply, the fine poetic image, The nice analogy, the clinching fact, the metaphor bold and free, The grasp of concentrated intellect wielding the omnipo- tence of truth, The grandeur of his speech, in his majesty of mind ! Champion of the right — patriot, or priest, or pleader of the innocent cause, Upon whose lips the mystic bee hath dropped the honey of persuasion, Whose heart and tongue have been touched, as of old, by the live coal from the altar, How wide the spreading of thy peace, how deep the draught of thy pleasures ! To hold the multitude as one, breathing in measured ca- dence ; A thousand men, with flashing eyes, -waiting upon thy will ; A thousand hearts kindled by thee with consecrated fire ; Ten flaming spiritual hecatombs offered on the mount of God: And now a pause, a thrilling pause, — they live but in thy words, — sterling's southern orator. 129 Thou hast broken the bonds of self, as the Nile at its rising. Thou art expanded into them, one faith, one hope, one spirit ; They breathe but in thy breath, their minds are passive unto thine, Thou turnest the key of their love, bending their affections to thy purpose, And all, in sympathy with thee, tremble with tumultuous emotions. Verily, O man, with truth for thy theme, eloquence shall throne thee with archangels. xcvu. MY BOYHOOD.— J. G. Saxe. Ah me ! those joyous days are gone ! I little dreamt, till they were flown, How fleeting were the hours ! For, lest he break the pleasing spell, Time bears for youth a muffled bell, And hides his face in flowers ! Ah ! well I mind me of the days, Still bright in memory's flattering rays, When all was fair and new, When knaves were only found in books, And friends were known by friendly looks, And love was always true ! While yet of sin I scarcely dreamed, And every thing was what it seemed, And all too bright for choice ; When fays were wont to guard my sleep, And Crusoe still could make me weep, And Santa Claus rejoice ! When heaven was pictured to my thought (In spite of all my mother taught Of happiness serene) 130 STERLING'S SOUTHERN ORATOR. A theatre of boyish plays — One glorious round of holidays, Without a school between ! Ah me ! these joyous days are gone ; I little dreamt, till they were flown, How fleeting were the hours ! For lest he break the pleasing spell, Time bears for youth a muffled bell, And hides his face in flowers ! XCVIII. FRIENDSHIP.— Mrs. Nortok. We have been friends together, In sunshine and in shade, Since first beneath the chestnut trees In infancy we played. But coldness dwells within thy heart, A cloud is on thy brow ; We have been friends together ; Shall a light word part us now ? We have been gay together ; We have laughed at little jests ; For the fount of hope was gushing Warm and joyous in our breasts. But laughter now hath fled thy lip, And sullen glooms thy brow ; We have been gay together ; Shall a light word part us now ? We have been sad together ; We have wept with bitfer tears O'er the grass-grown graves, where slumbered The hopes of early years. The voices which were silent there Would bid thee clear thy brow; We have been sad together ; Shall a light word part us now ? sterling's southern orator. 131 XCIX. THE JUDGMENT.— Milman. The chariot ! the chariot ! its wheels roll on fire, As the Lord cometh down in the pomp of His ire ; Self-moving it drives on its pathway of cloud, And the heavens with the burthen of Godhead are bowed. The glory ! the glory ! by myriads are poured The hosts of the angels to wait on their Lord ; And the glorified saints and the martyrs are there, And all who the palm-leaf of victory wear. The trumpet ! the trumpet ! the dead have all heard ; Lo the depths of the stone-vaulted charnel are stirred ; From the sea, from the land, from the south and the north, The vast generations of men are come forth. The judgment \ the judgment ! the thrones are all set, Where the Lamb and the white-vested elders are met \ All flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord, And the doom of eternity hangs on His word. c. SONG OF MARION'S MEN.— William C. Bryant. Our band is few, but true and tried, Our leader frank and bold ; The British soldier trembles When Marion's name is told. Our fortress is the good green wood, Our tent the cypress tree ; "We know the forest round us, As seamen know the sea. We know its walls of thorny vinos, Its glades of reedy grass, 132 sterling's southern orator. Its safe and silent islands Within the dark morass. Woe to the English soldiery That little dread us near ! On them shall light at midnight A strange and sudden fear : When walking to their tents on fire They grasp their arms in vain, And they who stand to face us Are beat to earth again ; And they who fly in terror, deem A mighty host behind, And hear the tramp of thousands Upon the hollow wind. Then sweet the hour that brings release From danger and from toil ; We talk the battle over, And share the battle's spoil. Well knows the fair and friendly moon The band that Marion leads — The glitter of their rifles, The scampering of their steeds. ? Tis life our fiery barbs to guide Across the moon-lit plains, ? Tis life to feel the night wind That lifts their tossing manes. A moment in the British camp — A moment — and away Back to the pathless forest Before the peep of day. Grave men they are by broad Santee, Grave men with hoary hairs, Their hearts are all with Marion ; For Marion are their prayers. sterling's southern orator. , 133 And lovely ladies greet our band, With kindliest welcoming, With smiles like those of summer, And tears like those of spring. For them we wear those trusty arms, And lay them down no more, Till we have driven the Briton Forever from our shore. ci. THE SAVOYARD'S RETURN.— Henry K. White. Oh, yonder is the well-known spot, My dear, my long-lost, native home ; Oh, welcome is yon little cot, Where I shall rest, no more to roam. Oh, I have travelled far and wide, O'er many a distant foreign land ; Each place, each province, I have tried, And sung and danced my saraband ; But all their charms could not prevail To steal my heart from yonder vale. Of distant climes the false report Allured me from my native land, It bade me rove, my sole support My cymbals and my saraband. . The woody dell, the hanging rock, The chamois skipping o'er the heights, The plain adorned with many a flock, And, oh, a thousand more delights, That grace yon dear, beloved retreat, Have backward won my weary feet. Now safe returned, with wandering tired, No more my little home I'll leave : And many a tale of what I've seen Shall wile away the winter's eve. 131 . sterling's southern orator. Oh, I have wandered far and wide, O'er many a distant foreign land ; Each place, each province, I have tried, And sung and danced my saraband ; But all their charms could not prevail To steal my heart from yonder vale. en. TO FRIENDS IN HEAVEN.— So. Lit. Messenger. Hover around me, bright ones ! Earthly joy Must ever hold some taint of earth's alloy ; But to the glories of your perfect home Sorrow and bitterness can never come. Bright are the fields you tread, the prospects round, Illumed by His own smile — O joy profound ! But from your realms of light, oh, will not ye Come in your brightness near to pray with me ? Hover around me, dear ones ! while on earth Ye were most near and dear of mortal birth : Oh, let me not believe that, when refined By closer contact with Almighty mind, Your love hath passed away. Ah ! rather must That love be purified when freed from dust — O loved ones ! now from earth's restraints set free, Come with the love of heaven, and pray with me I Hover around me, blest ones ! ye have been Removed from suffering, from grief, and sin. The stones are fashioned here that must adorn The gorgeous temple of the great First-Born — Meet stones ye were, ye blest ones, who below Chiefly His love and service seemed to know. From earth to heaven ye looked : oh, will not ye From heaven to earth now bend, and pray with me ? Hover around me, loved ones ! loved while here, More loved in heaven's seraphic, holy sphere ! 135 Love tunes the harp of heaven, and on each note Celestial sounds of love and rapture float. No depth of earthly love can e'er compare With that which stirs the seraph's soul in prayer. Oh, may that love our hearts inspire ! And ye Blend your sweet thoughts with mine, and pray with me ! CHI. TELL ME, YE WINGED WINDS.— Chables Mackay. Tell me, ye winged winds, That round my pathway roar, Do you not know some spot Where mortals weep no more ? Some lone and pleasant dell, Some valley in the West, Where, free from toil and pain, The weary soul may rest ? The loud wind softened to a whisper low, And sighed for pity as it answered, " No !" Tell me, thou mighty deep, Whose billows round me play, Know'st thou some favored spot, Some island far away, Where weary man may find The bliss for which he sighs, Where sorrow never lives And friendship never dies ? The loud waves, rolling in perpetual flow, Stopped for a while, and sighed to answer, " No !" And thou, serenp«t moon, That with such holy face Dost look upon the earth, Asleep in night's embrace, Tell me, in all thy round Hast thou not seen some spot Where miserable man Might find a happier lot ? 136 sterling's southern orator. Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe, And a voice sweet, but sad, responded, " No !" Tell me, my secret soul, Oh, tell me, Hope and Faith, Is there no resting-place From sorrow, sin, and death ? Is there no happy spot Where mortals may be blessed, Where grief may find a balm, And weariness a rest ? Faith, Hope, and Love — best boons to mortals given, Waved their bright wings, and whispered, " Yes, in heaven /" civ. SLANDER.— Mes. Osgood. A whisper woke the air— A soft, light tone, and low, Yet barbed with shame and woe : Now might it only perish there, No further go ! Ah me ! a quick and eager ear Caught up the little meaning sound ; Another voice has breathed it clear, And so it wanders round, From ear to lip, from lip to ear, Until it reached a gentle heart, And that — it broke. It wds the only heart it found, The only heart 'twas meant to find, When first its accents woke : It reached that tender heart at last, And that — it broke. Low as it seemed to others' ears, It came a thunder crash to hers, — That fragile girl, so fair and gay, — That guileless girl, so pure and true ! sterling's southern orator. "Tis said a lovely humming-bird, That in a fragrant lily lay, And dreamed the summer morn away, Was killed but by the gun's report, Some idle boy had fired in sport ! The very sound — a death-blow came ! And thus her happy heart, that beat With love and hope so fast and sweet, When first that word Her light heart heard, It fluttered like the frightened bird, Then shut its wings and sighed, And with a silent shudder — died. cv. THE ONLY SON OF HIS MOTHER.— Mrs. Margaret J. Preston. u Oh, must he perish ? — must his breath Grow faint and fainter, and his eye Film over, till the mists of death Glaze it forever ? — must he die — My boy — my beauty ! When the blow, That struck me dumb, and laid me low, Descended through the stunning pain, That numbed my senses — crazed my brain, I felt his kisses on my brow ; I knew I was not all bereft, While only he, my boy was left : But who — but what is left me now I" Thus sat she — watching, waiting, till The latest long-drawn sigh was past, Her grief restrained, quick to fulfil Each loving office to the last. And when it all was over ; — when He did not kiss her back again, Nor lift his heavy eyelids up, In wistful tenderness, — her cup 133 sterling's southern okatok. Could hold no drop of anguish more : And very bitter was her cry ; — " A widowed, childless mother, I, With not one gleam of hope before, Beseech Thee, Father, let me die I" They stretched the sleeper on his bier, And full of tender ruth for her, The neighbors came with many a tear, To bear him to the sepulchre. Out through the city's gates they went, One lonely mourner following, bent With ashen brow and garments rent. A wild despair was in her eye, A hopeless languor marked her tread ; And still the iterated cry Rang like a dirge : " My boy is dead !" Without the gates stood Jesus : He, At far Capernaum heard her prayer, And, touched with human sympathy, Had come to meet the sufferer there. Divinest pity filled the gaze That rested on that tear-dimmed face, And His own eye grew moistened too : Then, with a tone that thrilled her through, " Nay, woman, weep no more !" He*said : And while the awe-struck bearers stood, On through the wondering multitude He came, and touched the silent dead. "Young man, I say to thee arise !" The cerecloth stirred upon the brow, A tremor flushed the fast shut eyes, And see ! the lips are moving now ! " Mother, wipe off that ashy stain ; He moves — he breathes — he lives again ! Thou art not childless, lone, undone, Take to thy widowed arms thy son : And know that He who conquers death, Reclaims the flesh, and makes it whole, And fills anew the ruined soul With life, is Christ of Nazareth !" stealing's SOUTHERN ORATOR. 139 CVI. " ETERNAL ART," TO HER SISTER, "SCIENCE." Paul H. Hatoe. u Come ! let us enter in ! Behold ! the portal gates stand open wide ; Only, from off thy spirit shake the dust Of any thought of sin Or sordid pride ; For sacred is the kingdom of my trust, By mind, and strength, and beauty sanctified !" She spoke ! and o'er the threshold of a sphere, A marvellous sphere, they passed ; From the deep bosom of the purpling air A lambent glory broke along the vast Horizon line, whence clouds like incense rolled Athwart a firmamental arc of gold And sapphire — clouds, not vapor-born, But clasping each the radiant seeds of morn, Which, sudden, the clear zenith heights attained, Burst into light, unfolding like a flower From out whose quivering heart a mystic shower Of splendor rained : A spell was hers to conquer time and space, For, from the desert grandeur of that place, A hundred temples rise ! The marble poems of the bards of old, Whereon 'twere well to look with reverent eyes, Because they body noblest aspirations, Ethereal hopes, and winged imaginations — Whether to fabled Jove their walls were raised, Or on their inner altars offerings blazed To wise Athene — or in Christian Rome, Beneath St. Peter's mighty-circling dome, A second heaven — the silver censers swing, The clear-toned choirs their hymn of rapture sing. They passed, and thousands more passed by with them ! Again Art's genius spake : " Lo ! these are they Who, through stern tribulations, 140 sterling's southern orator. Have raised to right and truth the subject nations ; Lo ! these are they Who, were the whole bright concourse swept away — Their fame's last barrier built the tide to stem Of chaos and oblivion — whelmed beneath The pitiless torrent of eternal death, Would yet bequeath to races unbegot The precepts of a faith which dieth not ; Pointing from troublous toils of time and sense, From bootless struggles^ born of impotence — To that fair realm of thought, In whose bright calm these master workmen wrought, Where the full tides of perfect music swell Up to the heavens. cvn. MONTEREY.— -Charles Fenno Hoffman. We were not many — we who stood Before the iron sleet that day, Yet many a gallant spirit would Give half his years, if he but could Have been with us at Monterey. Now here, now there, the shot was hailed In deadly drifts of fiery spray, Yet not a single soldier quailed When wounded comrades round them wailed Their dying shout at Monterey. And on, still on, our column kept Through walls of flame its withering way, Where fell the dead the living stept, Still charging on the guns which swept The slippery streets of Monterey. The foe himself recoiled aghast, When, striking where he strongest lay, We swooped his flanking batteries past, And, braving full their murderous blast, Stormed home the towers of Monterey. sterling's southern oeator. 141 Our banners o'er those turrets wave, And there our evening bugles play ; Where orange boughs above their grave Keep green the memory of the brave Who fought and fell at Monterey. We are not many — we who pressed Beside the brave who fell that day ; But who of us has not confessed He'd rather share their warrior rest Than not have been at Monterey ? CVIII. DANIEL WEBSTER.— O. W. Holmes. No gloom that stately shape can hide, No change uncrown its brow ; behold ! Dark, calm, large-fronted, lightning-eyed, Earth has no double from its mould. Ere from the field by valor won The battle smoke had rolled away, And bared the blood-red setting sun, His eyes were opened on the day. His land was but a shelving strip, Black with the strife that made it free ; He lived to see its banners dip Their fringes in the western sea. The boundless prairies learned his name, His words the mountain echoes knew, The northern breezes swept his fame From icy lake to warm bayou. In toil he lived, in peace he died, When life's full cycle was complete, Put off his robes of power and pride, And laid them at his Maker's feet. 142 sterling's southern orator. His rest is by the storm-swept waves, Whom life's wild tempests roughly tried, Whose heart was like the streaming cave Of oceans throbbing at his side. Death's cold white hand is like the snow Laid softly on the furrowed hill ; It hides the broken seams below, And leaves its glories brighter still, In vain the envious tongue upbraids ; His name a nation's heart shall keep, Till morning's latest sunlight fades On the blue tablet of the deep. CIX. THE LILY A CONFIDANTE.— Henry Timrod. Lily ! lady of the garden ! Let me press my lips to thine ! — Love must tell its story, lily, Listen thou to mine.^ Two I choose to know the secret— Thee, and yonder "wordless flute, — Dragons watch nie, tender lily, And thou must be mute. There's a maiden, and her name is — Hist ! was that a rose-leaf fell ? Look ! the rose is listening, lily, And the rose may tell. Lily-browed and lily-hearted, She is very dear to me ; Lovely ? yes, if being lovely Is resembling thee. Six to half a score of summers Make the sweetest of the " teens" — sterling's southern orator. 143 Not too young to guess, dear lily, What a lover means. Laughing girl, and thoughtful woman, I am puzzled how to woo ; Shall I praise, or pique her, lily ? Tell me what to do. " Silly lover, if thy lily, Like her sister lilies be, Thou must woo, if thou would'st wear her, With a simple plea. " Love's the lover's only magic, Honest truth the subtlest art — Lips that feign, and love that flatters, Win no modest heart. " Like the dew-drop in my bosom, Be thy guileless language, youth ! Falsehood buyeth falsehood only, Truth must purchase truth. st As thou talkest at the fireside, With the little children by ; As thou prayest in the darkness, When thy God is nigh ; " With a speech as chaste and gentle, And such meanings as become Ear of child or ear of angel, Speak, or be thou dumb." " Woo her thus, and she shall give thee, Of her heart, the sinless whole — All the girl Avithin her bosom, And her woman's soul." 144 sterling's southern orator. ex. THE CONFESSION.— Blackwood's Magazine. There's something on my breast, father, There's something on my breast ! The livelong day I sigh, father, At night I cannot rest ; I cannot take my rest, father, Though I would fain do so, A weary weight oppresseth me, The weary weight of woe ! 'Tis not the lack of gold, father, Nor lack of worldly gear ; My lands are broad and fair to see, My friends are kind and dear ; My kin are leal and true, father, They mourn to see my grief ; But, oh, 'tis not a kinsman's hand Can give my heart relief! 'Tis not that Janet's false, father, 'Tis not that she's unkind ; Though busy flatterers- swarm around, I know her constant mind. 'Tis not her coldness, father, That chills my laboring breast, — It's that confounded cucumber I've ate and can't digest ! CXI. HENRY ST. GEORGE AND BEVERLY TUCKER. St. Geoege Tucker. If, in this picture-gallery of song, Two I select from that illustrious throng, And with affection's pencil, ever warm, sterling's southern orator. 145 Touch the dim canvas of each honored form — If, rapt and pensive here too long I halt To mourn their loss, forgive the filial fault; The stream, that glides along its murmuring course, Remembers piously its parent source, And. when, exhaled, it soft ascends to heaven, And trembling hangs upon the cloud of even, 'Twill often fall in gentle dews and rain Like pious drops, upon its fount again. Brothers they were, of pure and ancient blood, Gifted, and brave, and generous, and good ; In life's arena, steadfast, bold, and calm, Without the dust, they bore the victor's palm ; Resigned the volume of their lives to clasp, The world at length falls from their slackening grasp ; And they, whom cruel death could ne'er divide, Sleep in Virginia's valley side by side. Past is their day, and if, beyond their lives, The precious influence of their deeds survives, 'Tis but the glow which, though the sun be set, Lingers in western clouds and gilds them yet. CXII. COMPETENCE.— Swift. I've often wished that I had clear, For life, six hundred pounds a year, A handsome house to lodge a friend, A river at my garden's end, A terrace walk, and half a rood Of land set out to plant a wood. Well, now I have all this and more, I ask not to increase my store ; But here a grievance seems to lie : All this is mine but till I die ; I can't but think 'twould sound more clever, To me and to my heirs forever, If I ne'er got or lost a groat By any trick or any fault ; 146 sterling's southern orator. And if I pray for reason's rules, And not, like forty other fools, As thus, " Vouchsafe, O gracious Maker ! To grant me this and t'other acre ; Or, if it be Thy will and pleasure, Direct my plough to find a treasure !" But only what my station fits, And to be kept in my right wits ; Preserve, almighty Providence, Just what you gave me, competence, And let me in these shades compose Something in verse as true as prose. CXIII. A NEW YEAR'S WISH.— So. Lit. Messenger. Stern time has turned another page In his record-book of human age — That chronicle so dark, Where every act upon life's stage — Each footstep of our pilgrimage — He left some warning mark. ii. Now, from life's 1^ree another leaf, Bright with joy's hue, or dark with grief, Has fluttered to the ground, Where in a moment, sad and brief, 'Twas gathered to his mighty sheaf In the past's garner bound. hi. The year just gone has spent its sands — Another, now, befpre thee stands Unread, unknown, and vast ; This, too, will glide from youth's strong hands Away to join the misty bands Which gather in the past. sterling's southern orator. 147 IV. And, as it passes, may it be From every care and sorrow free . May it be brighter far Than tropic sunset on the sea, Than dreamy moonlight on the lea, Or light of vesper star ! v. In its bright west may hope's fair bow In promise shed a tranquil glow To 'lumine life's swift tide ; And in its calm and happy flow May sorrows melt like falling snow Upon the ocean wide. VI. And, as this opening year drifts past. May its last days profusely cast Life's blessings over thee. As when rich autumn-leaves fall fast The brightest linger to the last, Thus may this New Year be ! cxiv. TELL AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.— J. S. Knowles. Ye crags and peaks : I'm with you once again ! I hold to you the hands ye first beheld, To show they still are free. Methinks I hear A spirit in your echoes answer me, And bid your tenant welcome to his home Again ! O sacred forms, how proud you look ! How high you lift your head into the sky ! How huge you are ! how rrlighty, and how free ! Ye are the things that tower, that shine, whose smile Makes glad, whose frown is terrible, whose forms, Robed or unrobed, do all the impi-ess wear Of awe divine. Ye guards of liberty, 148 sterling's southern orator. I'm with you once again ! I call to you With all my voice ! I hold my hands to you, To show they still are free. I rush to you As though I could embrace you ! Scaling yonder peak, I saw an eagle wheeling near its brow O'er the abyss : his broad-expanded wings Lay calm and motionless upon the air, As if he floated there without their aid, By the sole act of his unlorded will, That buoyed him proudly up. Instinctively I bent my bow ; yet kept he rounding still His airy circle, as in the delight Of measuring the ample range beneath And round about ; absorbed, he heeded not The death that threatened him. I could not shoot ! 'Twas Liberty ! I turned my bow aside, And let him soar away ! cxv. THE PAST.— -Henby Timrod. To-day's most trivial act may hold the seed Of future fruitfulness or future dearth. Oh ! cherish always every word or deed : The simplest record of thyself has worth. If thou hast ever slighted one old thought, Beware lest grief enforce the truth at last — The time .must come in which thou shalt be taught The value and the beauty of the past. Not merely as a warner and a guide " A voice behind thee " sounding to the strife, But something never to be put aside, A part and parcel of thy present life. Not as a distant and a darkened sky Through which the stqj-s peep and the moonbeams glow, sterling's southern orator. 149 But a surrounding atmosphere whereby We live and breathe, sustained 'mid pain and woe. A fairy land where joy and sorrow kiss, Each still to each corrective and relief — Where dim delights are brightened into bliss, And nothing wholly perishes but grief. Ah me ! not dies — no more than spirit dies, But in a change like death is clothed with wings, A serious angel with entranced eyes Looking to far off and celestial things. cxvi. THE FAMILY BIBLE.— Anonymous. How painfully pleasing the fond recollection Of youthful connections and innocent joy, When blessed with parental advice and affection, Surrounded with mercies, with peace from on high ! I still view the chair of my sire and my mother, The seats of their offspring are ranged on each hand, # And that richest of books, which excelled every other, That family Bible that lay on the stand ; The old-fashioned Bible, the dear, blessed Bible, The family Bible that lay on the stand. That Bible, the volume of God's inspiration, At morn and at evening could yield us delight, And the prayer of our sire was a sweet invocation For mercies by day and for safety through night. Our hymns of thanksgiving, with harmony swelling, All warm from the heart of a family band, Half-raised us from earth to that rapturous dwelling Described in the Bible that lay on the stand ; That richest of books, which excelled every other, The family Bible that lay on the stand. Ye scenes of tranquillity, long have we parted ; My hopes almost gone, and my parents no more ; 150 sterling's southern orator. In sorrow and sadness I live broken-hearted, And wander unknown on a far-distant shore. Yet how can I donbt a dear Saviour's protection, Forgetful of gifts from His bountiful hand ? Oh, let me, with patience, receive His correction, And think of the Bible that lay on the stand ; That richest of books, which excelled every * other, That family Bible that lay on the stand. CXVII. THE LIGHT OF THE AGES.— Mrs. Gelman. When nature, at her primal birth, Lay crude and wild, from chaos born, A sable pall o'erspread the earth, A " darkness felt" before the dawn. Then came the mandate, " Be there light !" Young ocean brightened in its flow; It kindled up the mountain height, And cheered the humble vale below. When man lay plunged in deeper gloom That lowered around his moral sphere, When death, within the unyielding tomb, Sealed every hope the soul held dear, The " Sun of Righteousness " arose, Gave us the Father's will to know, And, while it tinged the mountain snows, Sought and revealed the vale below. Another cycle passed away ; Light dwelt alone in learning's bowers ; Monastic shadows, dim and gray, Absorbed man's intellectual powers ; And when the sun of letters shed A fitful lustre, struggling, slow, While gleaming on the mountain head, It left the vale in mist below. sterling's southern orator. 151 But now, Christ's oriflamme, unrolled, Floats, rayed with love, o'er earth and sea ; And, breaking up mind's crusted mould, Thought springs to birth, elastic, free, And bids the School, with generous aim, Plant beacon lights along the land ; While hill and valley catch the flame, And pass the torch from hand to hand. CXVIXI. COLUMBIA, REMEMBER THY HEROES.— James G. Clark. Columbia, remember thy heroes of old, The pride of the world's brightest story ; Forget not the time when the tombstone was rolled From the sepulchred morn of thy glory. Ah, then, in his grandeur, thy Washington rose, When the last hope of freedom seemed faded ; And the legions of liberty gave to their foes A grave in the soil they invaded. And nations that slumbered in darkness and crime Awoke with a wondering devotion, To see thee burst forth from the shadows of time, Like the sun from the mist of the ocean. The wilderness sang in the beams of thy worth, And peace like a diadem crowned thee, When discord and ruin were rocking the earth, And kingdoms were reeling around thee. And now, in the power of beauty and youth, A beacon to wanderers benighted, Shall tyranny witness a stain on thy truth, And scoff at thy purity blighted ? How long must the craft of the felon and knave Pollute what thy fathers defended ? How long, at thy shrines, must the prayers of the brave With the creed of the bigot be blended ? 152 sterling's southern- orator. Columbia, remember thy heroes of yore, The pride of the world's brighter glory ; Forget not the time when they fell on thy shore, In the wild, crimson morn of thy glory. Though shrouded in darkness their bodies repose, Let their truth to thy children be given ; As the day star, when lost in the dark billow, throws Its light o'er the millions of even. cxix. PADDY'S METAMORPHOSIS.— Thomas Mooke. About fifty years since, in the days of our daddies, That plan was commenced which the wise now applaud, Of shipping off Ireland's most turbulent paddies As good raw materials for settlers abroad. Some West-Indian island, whose name I forget, Was the region then chosen for the scheme so romantic ; And such the success the first colony met, That a second soon after set sail o'er the Atlantic. Behold them now safe at the long looked for shore, Sailing in between banks that the Shannon might greet, And thinking of friends, whom, but two years before, They had sorrowed to lose, but would soon again meet. And hark ! from the shore a glad welcome there came " Arrah, Paddy from Cork, is it you, my swate boy ?" While Pat stood astounded to hear his own name Thus hailed by black creatures, who capered for joy. iC Can it possibly be ?" Half amazement, half doubt, Pat listens again ; rubs his eyes and looks steady ; Then heaves a deep sigh, and in horror yells out, " Dear me — only think — black and curly already !" Deceived by that well-mimicked brogue in his ears, Pat read his own doom in these wool-headed figures, sterling's southern orator. 153 And thought, " What a climate, in less than two years. To turn a whole cargo of Pats into niggers!" cxx. BOOKS.-A. J. C. Books, books, books, the graciousness of books ! When the world goes all awry, And the heart can only sigh, What a pleasure 'tis to fly To one's books, books, books. Books, books, books, the blessedness of books ! When w r earied out with care That seems too hard to bear, What helps the load to share Like one's books, books, books ! Books, books, books, the tenderness of books ! In the long sleepless night, When slumber quits us quite, How cheering then and bright Are our books, books, books ! Books, books, books, the usefulness of books ! 'Tis in their welcome pages We talk with buried sages Of the long bygone ages, In their books, books, books ! Books, books, books, the constancy of books ! Our friends may fall away, Our dearest hopes decay, But they never do betray, Faithful books, books, books ! Books, books, books, the everlasting Book ! Who does not wish to hear — " When we all shall appear " — His record there is clear ? In that final Book ! 154 sterling's southern orator. CXXI. LINES TO A SOUTHERN LADY.— Emeline S. Smith. When chilling winds and changing skies Proclaim that summer's reign is o'er, Our groves, though clad in rainbow dyes, Resound with gladsome songs no more ; Far off our woodland minstrels roam, To warble in a summer home, 'Tis autumn now— -the birds have fled ; Sere leaves bestrew the darkened ground ; Summer's sweet roses all are dead, And winds have such a wailing sound, They seem to breathe in every tone A requiem for the flow'rets gone. Tet, gentle maid, when late I heard Thy voice melodious echoing near, Methought again the wild-wood bird Murmured its music in my ear ; Methought the summer's warmth and bloom, Its floods of light, its soft perfume, By fairy agency had come, To bless once more my winter home. And truth, there was a fairy spell In those rich links of silvery sound ; So light they rose, so soft they fell, Our living souls were captive bound ; And from that sweet subduing chain We wished not to be free again. Thou song-bird from a southern clime, Oh, linger in our northern bowers, And in this dreary autumn time Bring back a dream of summer hours — A dream whose sweetness still shall be Type of thy music and of thee. STEKLING ? S SOUTHERN ORATOR. 155 CXXII. THE UNION AND THE CONSTITUTION.— John R. Thompson. " Oh, by the mighty shades that wander still Where Glory consecrated Bunker Hill, By those who sleep 'neath Buena Vista's slopes, By the past's greatness and the future's hopes — By every honored, unforgotten name, Linked with your dearest Capitolian fame — By the proud memories and traditions all That live forever in the classic hall Where priceless pearls fell fast from Pinkney's tongue, And Wit's bright diamonds Randolph round him flung ; Where listening Senates owned the magic sway And thrilled to hear the clarion voice of Clay ; Where Webster, through all seasons, grandly strove 'Gainst Fraud and Faction with the might of Jove ; And Reason gave you her divinest boon In the pure logic of the great Calhoun ; — By this august Triumvirate of mind, By all the lessons they have left behind, By your loved hearthstones and your altar fires, And by the sacred ashes of your sires, Your angry strifes and fierce dissensions cease, And bless the country with domestic peace ; Guard well the Union ! — Freedom's last defence And only hope of Freedom's permanence — Maintain the Constitution ! — let it stand, And shine the Pallas of this Western Land. So shall Columbia act her destined part As patroness of Learning, Labor, Art, So shall she usher in the Golden Age When War no more shall stain th' historic page ; When down the glacis childish feet shall stray, And little urchins on the bastions play ; When ivy o'er each battlement shall run And cobwebs line the chamber of the gun, While Love's warm beams shall gild the placid isles And the blue seas forever sleep in smiles !" 156 sterling's southern orator. CXXIII. THE HEART AND THE BIRD.— A. B. Meek. There is a white bird of the sea Beneath the southern sky, That ever soaring seems to be Where tossing breezes fly: No eye has ever seen him rest ; No fowler knows his secret nest ; But far away, in starry isles. That gem the dimpled wave, Where blue-eyed summer ever smiles And pearls the waters pave, 'Mid snowy shells, bright flowers above, He keeps his hidden nest of love ! My heart is like that southern bird ; Its pinions never rest Amid these scenes where naught is heard But idle song and jest. It sports around on fluttering wing, It seems a gay, unthoughted thing ; But far away it has a shrine, Hid from the vulgar gaze, Where nature's brightest beauties shine Around an angel's face, There, like that restless ocean dove, It keeps its hidden nest of love. Yes, dearest, though afar from me, Thou art my only joy — A green isle in life's sunniest sea — Far from this wild annoy, Oh, would my weary heart could fly To greet thy soft, beloved eye. When bowered in bliss, from care remote Our lives in peace and pride, Like yon sun-tinted barks should float Adown the future tide ! Bird of the ocean ! soar above ! Mine is a sweeter nest of love ! sterling's southern orator, 157 CXXIV. FUNERAL OF HENRY CLAY.— Mrs. M. B. Clarke. Toll on ! ye mournful bells, toll on ! A mighty spirit's fled ; E'en heaven itself is weeping o'er The statesman lying dead. Boom on ! boom on ! ye minute guns, And through the sounding air, Up to his noble soul's abode, A nation's sorrow bear. The eagle of our land, whose wings Spread o'er each ocean's spray, Dropped from his grasp a noble dart, When Death laid claim to Clay ! He to the Stars and Stripes belonged, No State can claim his name ; The champion of our common flag, He gained his world-wide fame. No blood-stained laurels bound his brow, He caused no tears to flow ; His was the mighty strife of mind Against his country's foe. He never trimmed his noble bark To catch the breeze of state ; He scorned to watch its shifting vane, Or for its sanction wait. His voice full oft has stilled the strife Which in our country rose, And made the children of our land To deem their brethren foes. Like Roman Curtius when the gulf Yawned in the Forum wide, He flung himself into the breach And calmed the angry tide. His eagle eye saw at a glance What course to honor led. 158 sterling's southern - orator, His mighty spirit never shrank The patriot's path to tread. Toll on ! ye mournful bells, toll on ! Your sad funereal knell Makes every ardent freeman's breast With pride and sorrow swell. We glory in the mighty mind That flashed like lightning's play, And both Americas shall weep The loss of Henry Clay. Boom on !' boom on ! ye minute guns ! As each discharge is given, A shower of sympathetic tears Falls from the arch of heaven ! cxxv. CHRISTOPHER COLUMBTTS.--James Barron Hope. ,Onb heaven-directed genius laid his hand Upon the hilt of Providence ; the brand Required the force of the human race To draw it from its scabbard's resting-place — Ages to wield it in the noble van Which gave this Western Hemisphere to man. Fain would I linger on that splendid age, To which he gave its very brightest page ; Fain sing his godlike majesty of mind, Which looked right onward, never glanced behind, While, 'neath his brow, lit with the glow of hope, It, toiling, cast the whole world's horoscope. Fain would I paint his griefs in those sad hours When all his hopes seemed like the last year's flowers : Fain follow him through all his dreary years Of pain and poverty and bitter tears ; From convent porch to regal palaoe gate, Tracing his footsteps as he charged on Fate, Which built new ramparts in his path each day Until his brow was knit — his dark locks gray. sterling's southern orator. 159 Fain would I pause at Palos, when the breeze His caravellas swept toward unknown seas ; Fain follow where his daring vessels sped, Strange tides beneath — strange planets overhead ; Fain would I dwell upon that happy day, When, on the new-found shore, he knelt to pray : That Easter-day, when, with the great seas' boom. Making the music of his mass, the tomb Gave up his dream, which now in beauty rose, Like Christ awakened after His repose. Was this the thought ! Christ's was the name he gave To that fair island smiling on the wave. cxxvi. THE MYTHOLOGY OF GREECE.— James G. Percival. Each lonely spot was hallowed then — the oak That o'er the village altar hung would tell Strange hidden things ; the old remembered well, How from its gloom a spirit often spoke ; There was not then a fountain or a cave But had its reverend oracle, and gave Responses to the fearful crowd, who came And called the indwelling deity by name. Then every snowy 4>eak, that lifted high Its shadowy cone to meet the bending sky, Stood like a heaven of loneliness and light; And as the gilt-cloud rolled its glory by, Chariots and steeds of flame stood harnessed there, And gods came forth and seized the golden reins, Shook the bright scourge, and through the boundless air Rode over starry fields and azure plains. It was a beautiful and glorious dream, Such as would kindle high the soul of song; The bard who struck his harp to such a theme Gathered new beauty as he moved along. His way was now through wilds and beds of flowers ; Rough mountains met him now ; and then, again, Gay valleys, hung with vines in woven bowers, Led to the bright waves of the purple main. 160 sterling's southern orator. All seemed one bright enchantment then ; — but now, Since the long sought for goal of truth is won, Nature stands forth unveiled with cloudless brow, On earth One Spirit of Life, in heaven One Sun. CXXVII. SENECA LAKE.— James G. Percivak On thy fair bosom, silver lake ! The wild swan spreads his snowy sail, And round his breast the ripples break, As down he bears before the gale. On thy fair bosom, waveless stream ! The dipping paddle echoes far, And flashes in the moonlight gleam, And bright reflects the polar star. The waves along thy pebbly shore, As blows the north wind, heave their foam, And curl around the dashing oar, As late the boatman hies him home. « How sweet, at set of sun, to view The golden mirror spreading wide, And see the mist of mantling blue Float round the distant mountain's side. At midnight hour, as shine the moon, A sheet of silver spreads below, And swift she cuts, at highest noon, Light clouds, like wreaths of purest snow. On thy fair bosom, silver lake ! Oh, I could ever sweep the oar, When early birds at morning wake, And evening tells us toil is o'er. sterling's southern orator. 161 CXXVIII. AFTER.— Anonymous. After the shower, the tranquil sun ; After the snow, the emerald leaves ; Silver stars when the day is done ; After the harvest, golden grain. After the clouds, the violet sky ; After the tempest, the lull of the waves ; Quiet woods when the winds go by ; After the battle, peaceful graves. After the knell, the marriage bells ; After the bud, the radiant rose ; Joyful greetings from sad farewells ; After weeping, sweet repose. After the burden, the blissful meed ; After the flight, the downy nest ; After the furrow, the waking seed ; After the shadowy river — rest. CXXIX. FEMALE PATRIOTISM.— John R. Thompson. Still Honor be to Woman ! she has shown The loftiest patriotism earth has known — Not on the hustings claiming equal rights With sterner man — ah, hatefulest of sights ! But when some noble purpose fires the heart Or bids the sympathetic feelings start; When War holds carnival, 'mid heaps of slain, With Death, on Glory's drenched and crimsoned plain, Or Pestilence in darkness walks abroad And renders desolate each doomed abode, See with what joy her holy presence fills A Norfolk's streets or Balaklava's hills ! 162 sterling's southern orator. Oh, if no strain of minstrel can avail To hymn the praise of Florence Nightingale, My rugged verse how miserably weak That nobler heroine's renown to speak, Who with the Fever waged th' unequal strife, And bore, in danger's paths, a charmed life ! A brighter page her record shall display, And every tear that she has wiped away Shall crystallize into a brilliant gem To glitter in her heavenly diadem ! Yes, Honor be to Woman ! hers the praise, When strife and tumult loud their voices raise, That piously she turns her moistened eye To where our greatest chieftain's ashes lie Beneath Mount Vernon's ever sacred sward, And seeks from insult and decay to guard The holiest spot the sun e'er shone upon — ■ The long-neglected grave of WASHINGTON ! cxxx. STANZAS ON DEATH.— Anonymous. How sweet to sleep where all is peace, Where sorrow cannot reach the breast, Where all life's idle throbbings cease, And pain is lulled to rest ; Escaped o'er fortune's troubled wave, To anchor in the silent grave ! That quiet land, where, peril past, The weary win a long repose ; The bruised spirit finds, at last, A balm for all its woes ; And lowly grief and lordly pride Lie down, like brothers, side by side. The breath of slander cannot come To break the calm that lingers there ; sterling's southern orator. 163 There is no dreaming in the tomb, Nor waking to despair ; Unkindness cannot wound us more, And all earth's bitterness is o'er. The mother — she has gone to sleep, With the babe upon her breast ; She has no weary watch to keep Around her infant's rest ; His slumbers on her bosom fair Shall never more be broken — there. How blessed — how blessed that home to gain, And slumber in that soothing sleep, From which wq never rise to pain Nor ever wake to weep ! To win our way from the tempest's roar, And reach with joy that heavenly shore ! CXXXI. AUTUMN.— Paul H. Hayne. Here, friend ! upon this lofty ledge sit down ! And view the beauteous prospect spread below, Around, above us ; in the noonday glow How calm the landscape rests ! yon distant town, Enwreathed with clouds of foliage like a crown Of rustic honor ; the soft silvery flow Of the clear stream beyond it, and the show Of endless wooded heights, circling the brown Autumnal fields alive with billowy grain ; Say ! hast thou ever gazed on aught more fair In Europe or the Orient ? what domain, (From India to the sunny slopes of Spain,) Hath beauty, wed to grandeur in the air, Blessed with an ampler charm, a more benignant reign ? 164: STERLING'S SOUTHERN" ORATOR. II. The rainbows of the heaven are not more rare, More various, and more beautiful to view, Than these rich forest rainbows dipped in dew Of morn and evening, glimmering on the air From wooded dell and mountain summit fair ; O Autumn ! wondrous painter ! every hue Of thy immortal pencil is steeped through "With essence of divinity ; how bare Beside thy coloring the poor shows of Art, Though Art were thrice inspired ; in dreams alone, (The loftiest dreams wherein the soul takes part,) Of jasper pavements, and the sapphire throne Of heaven, hath such unearthly brightness shone To flush and thrill the visionary heart ! CXXXII. BAD HABITS.— Isabella E. Bykne. Weaving silently round the soul Crawls the spider of sin ; * Who cannot break his weak control ?" Nothing but threads he can spin. Nothing but threads, thin little threads, Beautiful sunshiny strings, Round our hands, our feet, our heads ; " Who fears such bright little things ?" See, see ! that silken glistening thread! 'Tis red as it swings in the breeze ; It waves and it sways till it wraps round my head : " Who cares what father or mother has said ? I say and I'll do what I please. 5 ' See, see! another; 'tis green, but 'tis bright; It dances and tosses like fun ; It floats in the sunbeam, it bathes in the light, It winds round my hands, and it binds them tight, And I do what I would not have done. sterling's southern orator. 165 Another ; oh, that is a bright golden thread ; Ah ! 'tis strong and 'tis thick, though 'tis bright ; It catches my feet, and it draws them along, And I follow, not willing, a wild noisy throng, And they lead me far out in the night : My head, my hands, my feet are now bound ; What would I not give to be free ! I cannot unwrap them, my strength cannot break, Arid they've lost all their brightness to me. THE UNKNOWN.— So. Lit. Messenger. They found her dead, One snowy morning in the open street, Her white cheek resting on the pearly sheet Around her spread. And on her lip a peaceful smile reposed, As if in slumber life's short dream had closed. She slept the last long sleep, Death's hand had touched her heart, and she had passed, Tired and suffering, to her home at last, Leaving no friends to weep, No kindred ones to come at eve's hushed hours To sprinkle on her bosom tears and flowers. No soft and gentle hand Clasped hers w^ith tenderness, as in the night She went out meekly from this world of light Into the shadowy land. No earthly watcher lingered at her side To hear her last low whisper when she died. But did she die alone ? No, not alone, one loving heart was near, One sleepless friend bent kindly down to hear The voice of the unknown. One gentle arm sustained her drooping head, One soothing hand made soft the dying bed. 166 sterling's southern orator. And angels came With shining wings and white robes from above, Breathing sweet words of truth and hope and love, Calling her by her name. And as a lamb they bore her o'er death's foam Up to the " better land " to friends and home. cxxxiv. A SUMMER SCENE.— Dr. Isaac Watts. How fine has the day been, how bright was the sun, How lovely and joyful the course that he run, Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun, And there followed some droppings of rain ! But now the fair traveller's come to the west, His rays are all gold, and his beauties *are best ; He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest, And foretells a bright rising again. Just such is the Christian : his course he begins, Like the sun in a mist, when he mourns for his sins, And melts into tears ; then he breaks out and shines, And travels his heavenly way : But when he comes nearer to finish his race, Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in grace, And gives a sure hope, at the end of his days, Of rising in brighter array. cxxxv. MEETING OF SATAN AND DEATH.— Milton. " Whence and what art thou, execrable shape, That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated front athwart my way To yonder gates ? through them I mean to pass, That be assured, without leave asked of thee : Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of heaven." sterling's southern orator. 167 To whom the goblin full of wrath replied : " Art thou that traitor-angel, art thou he, Who first broke peace in heaven, and faith, till then Unbroken ; and in proud, rebellious arms, Drew after him the third part of heaven's sons Conjured against the Highest ; for which both thou And they, outcast from God, are here condemned To waste eternal days in woe and pain ? And reckooest thou thyself with spirits of heaven, Hell-doomed, and breath'st defiance here and scorn, Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more, Thy king and lord ? Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before." CXXXVI. WOLSEY'S SOLILOQUY.— Shakespeahe. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honors thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye : I feel my heart new opened. Oh, how wretched Is thatpoor man that hangs on princes' favors ! There is betwixt that smile he would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; 163 sterling's southern orator. And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again ! CXXXVII. THE TRUE SOURCE OF HAPPINESS.— DH. Johnson. Where, then, shall hope and fear their objects find? Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind ? Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate ? Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise, No cries invoke the mercies of the skies ? Inquirer, cease; petitions yet remain, Which Heaven may hear, nor deem religion vain. Still raise for good the supplicating voice, But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice. Safe in His power, whose eyes discern afar The secret ambush of a specious prayer, Implore His aid, in His decisions rest, Secure whate'er He gives, He gives the best. Yet when the sense of sacred presence fires, And strong devotion to the skies aspires, Pour forth thy fervors for a healthful mind, Obedient passions, and a will resigned ; For love, which scarce collective man can fill ; For patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill ; For faith, that, panting for a happier seat, Counts death kind nature's signal of retreat : These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain, These goods He grants, who grants the power to gain ; With these celestial wisdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness she does not find. sterling's southern orator. 169 cxxxviii. UNDER THE SNOW.— John H. Bonner. The brown old earth lies quiet and still Under the snow, The furrows are hid on the broken hill Under the snow, Every thing is fringed with mossy pearl, The drooping cedars bend to the ground, The rose-bush is drifted into a mound, And still from the silent sky to the ground The white flakes noiselessly whirl. The roads and fields are buried deep Under the snow, The hedges lie in a tangled heap Under the snow. And the little gray rabbits under them creep, While the twittering sparrows cunningly peep From the sheltering briers, and cosily sleep Under the snow. The rough old barn and the sheds near by, The mounted straw of the wheat and rye, Are covered with snow ; The straggling fences are softened with down, Every post is white, w^ith a beautiful crown Of drifted snow. And I think, as I sit in the gloaming here, Watching the objects disappear, How many things are folded low Under the drifts of the felling snow : There are hearts that once were full of love Under the snow ; There are eyes that glowed with the soul of love Under the snow ; There are faded tresses of golden hair ; There are locks that were bleached with the frost of care ; There are lips that once were like the rose ; There are bosoms that once were stung with woes ; 170 steeling's southeek oeatoe. There are breasts that once were true and strong ; There are forms that once were praised in song : Oh ! there's a strange and a mighty throng Under the snow. Another mound will once lie deep Under the snow, And I will with the pale ones sleep Under the snow. O God ! stream on my soul Thy grace, That in the lovelight of Thy face I may rejoice when death shall place My pulseless heart and body low Under the snow ! CXXXIX. KING EICHAED.—So. Lit. Messenger. While in captivity lie wrote the Sirvente : La I nus horns pris ne diva , raison : of which the following is a translation. If a poor prisoner may not tell his wrong But in the plaintive dialect of grief, He may beguile his weary soul with song. Friends have I ; but they yield me no relief. For want of ransom these two winters drear I pine imprisoned here. Let them all know : — my men, my barons proud, English or Norman, or my Gascons bold, There is not one so poor in all the crowd Whose dungeon to unbar I'd spare my gold : Yet none shall I reproach with words severe, Though pining captive here. A captive hath no friend : all human ties Break in the hour of trial and of need. Men love their treasure more than him who lies Far and forgotten : yet let them take heed ! How tarnished their fair honor would appear If I should perish here ! stealing's southern orator. 171 Friends whom I loved, and whom my heart loves still, Trust me, that heart, whate'er its faults, was true ; Silver and gold, as chance and fortune will Their transient vicissitudes pursue : But to you all the unfaltering faith is clear Of the lone captive here. You, my proud foes, whose hearts have grown so vain, The day of retribution is at hand. Wait for the end ; for we shall meet again. Ay, tell them so, Caryl and Readybrand, My troubadours, who mourn with grief sincere The captive pining here. CXL. SOLITUDE.— Kobeut Pollok. Pleasant were many scenes, but most to me The solitude of vast extent, untouched By hand of art, where nature sowed herself, And reaped her crops ; whose garments were the clouds ; Whose minstrels brooks ; whose lamps the moon and stars ; Whose organ-choir the voice of many waters; Whose banquets morning dews ; whose heroes storms ; Whose warriors mighty winds; whose lovers flowers; Whose orators the thunderbolts of God ; Whose palaces the everlasting hills ; Whose ceiling heaven's unfathomable blue; And from whose rocky turrets battled high Prospect immense spread out on all sides round, Lost now beneath the welkin and the main, Now walled with hills that slept above the storm. Most fit was such a place for musing men, Happiest sometimes when musing without aim. It was, indeed, a wondrous sort of bliss The lonely bard enjoyed when forth he walked, Unpurposed ; stood, and knew not why ; sat down, And knew not where ; arose, and knew not when ; Had eyes, and saw not ; cars, and nothing heard ; 172 sterling's southern orator, And naught— sought neither heaven nor earth — sought naught ; Nor meant to think ; but ran meantime through vast Of visionary things, fairer than aught That was ; and saw the distant tops of thoughts, Which men of common stature never saw. CXLI. TO MY MOTHER.— William R. Wallace. Thou wert my teacher, where the dark wood, bending O'er the glad waters, wooed the soft blue air; And there thy voice with winds and waters blending For thy soul's treasure breathed a fervent prayer — The starry poems of creation shining On the broad page of heaven's bright mystic dome, Whilst in the shade of its dim light reclining Thou pictured'st forth the spirit's final home. Oh, for that hour again when, softly stealing In the dim twilight from all stranger eyes, I marked thee weeping, and, together kneeling By a lone grave, looked on the glorious skies — Dreaming we saw the husband, sire, imploring For us amid the white-robed seraph-band, That we at last might bow with him adoring Among the armies of the " Better Land." But now deep wrongs to wild remembrance calling, Close my young soul to sympathy and love, Like murky clouds, black, stern, and thickly falling, Where God's bright rainbow glittered once above. Here ! here ! forever here we feel the fire, Unquenched by blood-drops of the heart and frame, Nor wealth nor tall ambition's glory can aspire To ease the spirit of its torturing flame. Yet unto thee, dear mother, when a- weary With the world's strife, would I a boy return, sterling's southern orator. 173 And, like a child lost in the forest dreary, Weep o'er the dust of Memory's holy urn— • And with thee kneel beneath the sphered air, And know that, as of old, our God watched o'er us there. CXLII. TIME.— a. D. Prentice. Remorseless Time ! Fierce spirit of the glass and scythe! What power Can stay him in his silent course, or melt His iron heart to pity ? On, still on He presses, and forever. The proud bird, The condor of the Andes, that can soar ' Through heaven's unfathomable depths, or brave The fury of the northern hurricane, And bathe his plumage in the thunder's home, Furls his broad wings at nightfall, and sinks down To rest upon his mountain crag. But Time Knows not the weight of sleep or weariness, And night's deep darkness has no chain to bind His rushing pinions. Revolutions sweep O'er earth like troubled visions o'er the breast Of dreaming sorrow ; cities rise and sink Like bubbles on the water ; fiery isles Spring blazing from the ocean, and go back To their mysterious caverns ; mountains rear To heaven their bald and blackened cliffs, and bow Their tall heads to the plain ; new empires rise, Gathering the strength of the hoary centuries, And rush down like the Alpine avalanche, Startling the nations ; and the very stars, Yon bright and burning blazonry of God, Glitter awhile in their eternal depths, And, like the Pleiad, loveliest of their train, Shoot from their glorious spheres, and pass away To darkle in the trackless void. Yet Time, Time the tomb-builder, holds his fierce career. Dark, stern, all-pitiless, and pauses not, Amid the mighty wrecks that strew his path, 174 sterling's southern orator. To Sit and muse, like other conquerors, Upon the fearful ruin he has wrought. CXLIII. EYE'S LAMENT.—MiLTOtf. . . . Adam at the news Heart-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood, That all his senses bound ; Eve, who unseen Yet all had heard, with audible lament Discovered soon the place of her retire. " O unexpected stroke, worse than of death ! Must I thus leave thee, Paradise ? thus leave Thee, native soil ! these happy walks and shades, Fit haunt of gods ? where I had hope to spend, Quiet though sad, the respite of that day That must be mortal to us both. O flowers, That never will in other climate grow, My early visitation, and my last At even, which I bred up with tender hand From the first opening bud, and gave ye names ! Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount ? Thee lastly, nuptial bower ! by me adorned With what to sight or smell was sweet ! from thee How shall I part, and whither wander down Into a lower world ; to this obscure And wild ? how shall we breathe in other air Less pure, accustomed to immortal fruits ?" CXLIV. MAN.— Young. How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful is man ! How passing wonder He who made him such ! Who centred in our make such strange extremes, sterling's southern orator. 175 From different natures marvellously mixed, Connection exquisite of distant worlds ! Distinguished link in being's endless chain ! Midway from nothing to the Deity ! A beam ethereal, sullied and absorpt ! Though sullied and dishonored, still divine ! Dim miniature of greatness absolute ! An heir of glory ! a frail child of dust : Helpless immortal ! insect infinite ! A worm ! a god ! I tremble at myself, And in myself am lost. At home, a stranger, Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast, And wondering at her own. How reason reels ! Oh, what a miracle to man is man ! Triumphantly distressed ! what joy ! what dread ! Alternately transported and alarmed ! What can preserve my life ! or what destroy ! An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave ; Legions of angels can't confine me there. CXLV. THE BETTER LAND.— Mrs. Hemans. "I hear thee speak of the better land ; Thou call'st its children a happy band : Mother ! oh, where is that radiant shore ? Shall we not seek it, and weep no more ? Is it where the flower of the orange blows, And the fireflies glance through the myrtle boughs ?" " Not there, not there, my child." "Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange, bright birds on their starry wings Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ?" "Not there, not there, my child." 176 sterling's southern orator. " Is it far away in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold, Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand ? Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ?" " Not there, not there, my child." " Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy ; - Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair ; Sorrow and death may not enter there, Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom ; For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb, It is there, it is there, my child.' 5 CXLVI. THE REMOVAL.— Anonymous. ■ A nervous old gentleman, tired of trade, By which, though, it seems, he a fortune had made ; Took a house 'twixt two sheds, at the skirts of the town, Which he meant, at his leisure, to buy and pull down. This thought struck his mind when he viewed the estate ; But, alas ! when he entered he found it too late ; For in each dwelt a smith : — a more hard-working two Never doctored a patient or put on a shoe. At six in the morning, their anvils, at work, Awoke our good squire, who raged like a Turk : " These fellows," he cried, a such a clattering keep, That I never can get above eight hours of sleep." From morning till night they keep thumping away — No sound but the anvil the whole of the day : His afternoon's nap, and his daughter's new song, Were banished and spoiled by their hammers' ding-dong. STERLING'S SOUTHERN ORATOR. t 177 He offered each Vulcan to purchase his shop ; But, no ! they were stubborn, determined to stop : At length (both his spirits and health to improve) He cried, " I'll give each fifty guineas to move." u Agreed !" said the pair ; "that will make us amends." u Then come to my house and let us part friends : You shall dine ; and we'll drink on this joyful occasion, That each may live long in his new habitation." He gave the two blacksmiths a sumptuous regale — He spared not provisions, his wine, nor his ale ; So much was he pleased with the thought that each guest Would take from him noise, and restore him to rest. " And now," said he, " tell me, where mean you to move— I hope to some spot where your trade will improve ?" " Why, sir," replied one, with a grin on his phiz, " Tom Forge moves to my shop, and I move to his !" CXLVII. HOPE.— Campbell. At summer's eve, when heaven's aerial bow Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below, Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky ? Why do those hills of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ? 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain with its azure hue. Thus, with delight, we linger to survey The promised joys of life's unmeasured way ; Thus, from afar, each dim-discovered scene More pleasing seems than all the past has been, And every form that fancy can repair From dark oblivion glows divinely there. What potent spirit guides the raptured eye To pierce the shades of dim futurity ? 178 sterling's southern orator. Can wisdom lend, with all her boasted power, The pledge of joy's anticipated hour ? Or if she holds an image to the view, 'Tis nature pictured too severely true. With thee, sweet Hope, resides the heavenly light That pours remotest rapture on the sight ; Thine is the charm of life's bewildered way, That calls each slumbering passion into play. Eternal Hope ! when yonder spheres sublime Pealed their first notes to sound the march of time, Thy joyous youth began — but not to fade. When all the sister planets have decayed — When, wrapped in fire, the realms of ether glow, And heaven's last thunder shakes the world below — Thou, undismayed, shalt o'er the ruins smile, And light thy torch by nature's funeral pile. CXLVIII. THE BEREFT.— Mary A. Miller. Thy bitter Cup sure now is full, O stricken one ! " Not yet, not yet, chastened and much beloved By Him who ever puts it to thy lips !" One heart through all had suffered with her own. On him she leaned her weary throbbing head, And he would gently soothe — stilling the tumult In his breast lest it might add to hers. Oh, How sweet a thing it is for woman's heart To trust ! To feel that one there is who loves Her for her very weakness ; whose strength supports In every hour of need. How like a plant Torn rudely from its long accustomed stay, Her heart will lie in dust, refusing still All other props when he is gone. The cold White tapering shaft by which she stands and leans Her aching temples now will tell you all, More than her tongue in such an hour as this Could tell. And near her is that new-made grave, STERLING'S SOUTHERN" ORATOR. 179 Which but a little while before into Its faithful charge received the fairest flower, That ever bloomed to die ! O Fanny, loved And lost ! e'en now I see thee as thou wert, When last I gazed upon thy face. The dark, Rich shining folds of soft brown hair fell o'er Thy pillow then, and cast a shadow soft, Upon a brow as Parian marble white. And just as I have seen some autumn flower, Touched by wintry frost, grow fairer in Its early doom and fall in brighter hues Than those it wore at first, so Fanny passed Away. Upon her cheek the hectic rose Brightened each day until its crimson leaves Fell softly in an early grave. And I Had thought to see her, trembling, shrink whene'er The hour of parting came. For how, oh, how Could one so young, guarded with such care, such Tenderness and love, unflinching meet The King of Terrors ! Weak was my judgment ; Her faith I did not know ; for, with a smile Which told of joy ecstatic, she gently Breathed "All, all is peace !" and died. CXLIX. HONOR TO OUR WORKMEN.— H. Clay Preuss. Whom shall we call our heroes, To whom our praises sing ? The pampered child of fortune The titled lord or king ? They live by others' labor, Take all and nothing give : The noblest types of manhood Are they who work to live. Who spans the earth with iron, And rears the palace dome ? 180 sterling's soutpiern orator. Who fashions for the rich man The comforts of his home ? It is the patient toiler — All honor to him, then ! The true wealth of a nation Is in her working-men. For many barren ages Earth hid her treasures deep, And all her giant forces Seemed bound as in a sleep ; Then Labor's "anvil chorus" Broke on the startled air, And lo ! the earth in rapture Laid all her riches bare ! 3 Tis toil that over nature Gives man his proud control ; And purifies and hallows The temple of his soul ; It scatters foul diseases, With all their ghastly train, Puts iron in the muscle, And crystal in the brain. The Grand Almighty Builder, Who fashioned out the earth, Hath stamped His seal of honor On Labor from her birth. In every angel flower That blossoms from the sod, Behold the master touches, The handiwork of God ! Then, honor to our workmen, Our hardy sons of toil — The heroes of the workshop And monarchs of the soil. sterling's southern orator. 181 CL. AMERICAN ARISTOCRACY.— J. G. Saxe. Of all the notable things on earth, The queerest one is pride of birth Among our " fierce democracy !" A bridge across a hundred years, Without a prop to save it from sneers, Not even a couple of rotten peers — A thing for laughter, fleers and jeers, Is American aristocracy ! English and Irish, French and Spanish, Germans, Italians, Dutch, and Danish, Crossing their veins until they vanish In one conglomeration ! So subtle % tinge of blood, indeed, No Heraldry Harvey will ever succeed In finding the circulation. Depend upon it, my snobbish friend, Your family thread you can't ascend, Without good reason to apprehend You may find it waxed at the other end By some plebeian vocation ! Or, worse than that, your boasted line May end in a loop of stronger twine, That plagued some worthy relation ! CLI. THE SUNNY SOUTH— THE LAND WE LOVE. The sunny South ! the sunny South ! The land that gave us birth ; Where brightest hopes have cheered our youth- The land of generous worth. 182 sterling's southern orator. The sunny South ! though cast in gloom, Still land of beauteous flowers, Exhaling fragrance o'er our doom With sweet, refreshing powers. The sunny South ! now almost mute. Still land of precious store, Where nature yields her choicest fruit With sweetness crimsoned o'er. The sunny South ! awake ! awake ! Rise, like your mountains, rise ! The birds sing sweetly for your sake, Beneath bright, genial skies. The sunny South ! be high your aim — Adorn your golden prime ; Unconquered minds you still may claim, And make your lives sublime The sunny South! heroic, grancf! Where high-souled men did dare To bleed and die ! — a noble band — For home, and for the fair. The sunny South ! let virtues blend In thee all lands above ; Then God propitious smiles will lend, And bless the land we love. OLII. THE LITTLE BOY THAT DIED.—Joshua H. Robinson. I am all alone in my chamber now, And the midnight hour is near, And the fagot's crack and the clock's dull tick Are the only sounds I hear ; And over my soul, in its solitude, Sweet feelings of sadness glide ; For my heart and my eyes are full when I think Of the little boy that died. sterling's southern orator. 183 I went one night to my father'^ house — Went home to the dear ones all, And softly I opened the garden gate, And softly the door of the hall. My mother came out to meet her son, She kissed me, and than she sighed, And her head fell on my neck, and she wept For the little boy that died. And when I gazed on his innocent face, As still and cold he lay, And thought what a lovely child he had been, And how soon he must decay : u O death, thou lovest the beautiful," In the woe of my spirit I cried ; For the sparkling eyes and the forehead were fair Of the little boy that died ! Again I will go to my father's house, Go home to the dear ones all, And sadly I'll open the garden gate, And sadly the door of the hall : I shall meet my mother, but never more With her darling by her side ; But she'll kiss me and sigh and weep again For the little boy that died. I shall miss him when the flowers come In the garden where he played ; I shall miss him more by the fireside, When the flowers have all decayed ; I shall see his toys and his empty chair, And the horse he used to ride ; And they will speak with a silent speech, Of the little boy that died. I shall see his little sister again, With her playmates about the door, And I'll watch the children in their sports As I never did before ; And if in the group I see a child That's dimple and laughing-eyed, I'll look to see if it may not be The little boy that died. 181 sterling's southern orator. We shall all go home to our Father's house — To our Father's house in the skies, Where the hope of our souls shall have no blight, And our love no broken ties ; We shall roam on the banks of the River of Peace, And bathe in its blissful tide ; And one of the joys of our heaven shall be The little boy that died. And therefore, when I am sitting alone, And the midnight hour is near, When the fagot's crack and the clock's dull tick Are the only sounds I hear, Oh, sweet o'er my soul in its solitude Are the feelings of sadness that glide, Though my heart and my eyes are full when I think Of the little boy that died. CLIII. THE DEATH OF WABREK— Epes Sabgent. When the war-cry of liberty rang through the land, To arms sprang our fathers the foe to withstand ; On old Bunker Hill their intrenchments they rear, When the army is joined by a young volunteer. " Tempt not death !" cried his friends ; but he bade them good-by, Saying, " Oh, it is sweet for our country to die !" The tempest of battle now rages and swells, 'Mid the thunder of cannon, the pealing of bells ; And a light, not of battle, illumes yonder spire — Scene of woe and destruction ; — 'tis Charlestown on fire ! The young volunteer heedeth not the sad cry, But murmurs, " 'Tis sweet for our country to die !" With trumpets and banners the foe draweth near ; A volley of musketry checks their career ! With the dead and the dying the hill-side is strewn, And the shout through our lines is, " The day is our own !" STERLING'S SOUTHERN" ORATOR. 185 " Not yet," cries the young volunteer, " do they fly ! Stand Arm ! — it is sweet for our country to die !" Now our powder is spent, and they rally again ; " Retreat," says our chief, " since unarmed we remain !" But the young volunteer lingers yet on the field, Reluctant to fly, and disdaining to yield. A shot ! Ah ! he falls ! but his life's latest sigh Is, " "lis sweet, oh, 'tis sweet for our country to die !" And thus Warren fell ! Happy death ! noble fall ! To perish for country at Liberty's call ! Should the flag of invasion profane evermore The blue of our seas or the green of our shore, May the hearts of our people reecho the cry, " 'Tis sweet, oh, 'tis sweet for our country to die I" CIiIV. ROBERT EMMET.— Akonymous. Oh, cold is the grave where he silently slumbers, Where naught but the wild bird his requiem sings ; There sad let the minstrel-boy breathe the wild numbers Of grief o'er the plaintive harp's sorrowing things. Calm, calm is his sleep, and unsullied his glory, In the shade of the laurels his martyrdom won, And long let his name be emblazoned in story — Green Isle of the ocean ? thy patriot son. Oh, sweet be his rest, while in sorrow we wail him, And mourn o'er his fate in our tremulous songs ! Green Erin ! oh, soft let thy bards proudly hail him As the hero who bled for thy desolate wrongs ! Twine, twine the sad harp with cypress and willow, That shade, with their foliage, his mouldering urn, Bedewed with the tear-drops that bathe his cold pillow, Where sleep the lone relics of him whom we mourn. With naught but the verdure that decks his cold bosom, And springs through the damp sod that covers his breast, 186 sterling's southern orator. Or the fragrant perfume of the wild heather blossom, In the blaze of his glory, oh, there let him rest ! But his spirit has fled to a happier heaven — Where the bright shades of heroes meet never to part : Oh, write not his epitaph — let it be graven By gratitude deep on each patriot heart. Sweet harp of my country ! let thy sorrowing numbers Breathe o'er the cold grave of him whom we weep, And hallow with music the spot where he slumbers, And wake the wild anthem of grief o'er his sleep. Then- calm be his rest — let him dwell in his glory, In the shade of the laurels his martyrdom won! Oh, long shall his name be recorded in story, Green Island of song, as thy patriot son ! CLV. HAGAR IN THE WILDERNESS.— N. P. Willis. He gave to her the water and the bread, But spoke no word, and trusted not himself To look upon her face ; but laid his hand, In silent blessing, on the fair-haired boy, And left her to her lot of loneliness. Should Hagar weep ? May slighted woman turn, And, as a vine the oak hath shaken off*, Bend lightly to her tendencies again ? Oh, no ! by all her loveliness, by all That makes life poetry and beauty, no Make her a slave ; steal from her cheek the rose, By needless jealousies ; let the last star Leave her a watcher by your couch of pain ; Wrong her by petulance, suspicion, all That makes her cup of bitterness — yet give One evidence of love, and earth has not An emblem of devotedness like hers. But, oh, estrange her once, it boots not how, By wrong or silence, any thing that tells A change has come upon your tenderness — sterling's southern orator. 187 And there is not a high thing out of heaven Her pride o'ermastereth not. She went her way with a strong step and slow ; Her pressed lip arched, and her clear eye undimmed, As it had been a diamond, and her form Borne proudly up, as if her heart breathed through. Her child kept on in silence, though she pressed His hand till it was pained ; for he had caught. As I have sairoduct of fate, chance, or necessity ; without design ; without govern- ment ; without a God : its inhabitants born, none knows why ; and destined to go, none knows whither. Of duty, virtue, worship, acceptance with God, and the re- ward of obedience, they know, and choose to know, noth- ing. To them the moral universe is a chaos. The Gospel, looking on this mass of confusion, has said, "Let there be light ; " and there is light, ' 246 sterling's southern orator. CXCIV. THE SURPRISE OF DEATH.— Massillon. The surprise which you have to fear is not one of those rare, singular events which happen to but a few unhappy persons, and which it is more prudent to disregard than to provide for. It is not that an instantaneous, sudden death may seize you — that the thunder of heaven may fall upon you — that you may be buried under the ruins of your houses — that a shipwreck may overwhelm you in the deep ; nor do I speak of those misfortunes whose singularity ren- ders them more terrible, but at the same time less to be apprehended. It is a familiar event ; there is not a day but furnishes you with examples of it ; almost all men are surprised by death ; all see it approach when they think it most distant ; all say to themselves, like the fool in the Gospel : " Soul, take thine ease, thou hast much goods laid up for many years." Thus have died your neighbors, your friends, almost all those of whose death you have been informed; all have left you in astonishment at the suddenness of their depart- ure. You have sought reasons for it in the imprudence of the person while sick, in the ignorance of physicians, in the choice of remedies ; but the best and indeed the only rea- son is, that the day of the Lord always cometh by sur- prise. The earth is like a large field of battle where you are every day engaged with the enemy ; you have happily es- caped -to-day, but you have seen many lose their lives who promised themselves to escape as you have done. To-mor- row you must again enter the lists : who has assured you that fortune, so fatal- to others, will always be favorable to you alone ? And since you must perish there at last, are you reasonable in building a firm and permanent habitation upon the very spot which is destined to be your grave ? Place yourselves in whatever situation you please, there is not a moment of time in which death may not come, as it has to many others in similar situations. There is no action of renown which may not be termi- nated by the eternal darkness of the grave : Herod was cut sterling's SOUTHERN ORATOR. 247 off in the midst of the foolish applauses of his people. No public day which may not finish with your funeral pomp : Jezebel was thrown headlong from the window of her pal- ace the very day that she had chosen to show herself with unusual ostentation. No delicious feast which may not bring death to you : Belshazzar lost his life when seated at a sumptuous banquet. ISTo sleep which may not be to you the sleep of death : Holofernes, in the midst of his army, a conqueror of kingdoms and provinces, lost his life by an Israelitish woman when asleep in his tent. ISTo crime which may not finish your crimes : Zimri found an infamous death in the tents of the daughters of Midian. No -sick- ness which may not terminate your days : you very often see the slightest infirmities resist all applications of the healing art, deceive the expectations of the sick, and sud- denly turn to death. In a word, imagine yourselves in any circumstances of life wherein you may ever be placed, and you will hardly be able to reckon the number of those who have been sur- prised by death when in like circumstances ; and you have no warrant that you shall not meet with the same fate. You acknowledge this ; you own it to be true ; but this avowal, so terrible in itself, is only an acknowledgment which custom demands of you, but which never leads you to a single precaution to guard against the danger. cxcv. THE BIBLE ABOVE ALL PRICE.— Rev. Edward Payson. In the fabulous records of pagan antiquity we read of* a mirror endowed with properties so rare that, by looking into it, its possessor could discover any object which he wished to see, however remote ; and discover with equal ease persons and things above, below, behind, and before him. Such a mirror, but infinitely more valuable than this fictitious glass, do we really possess in the Bible. By em- ploying this mirror in a proper manner, we may discern objects and events, past, present, and to come. Here we may contemplate the all-enfolding circle of the Eternal Mind ; and behold a most perfect portrait of Him 248 sterling's southern orator. whom no mortal eye hath seen, drawn by his own unerring hand. Piercing into the deepest recesses of eternity, we may behold Him, existing independent and alone, previous to the first exertion of His creating energy. We may see heaven, the habitation of His holiness and glory, " dark with the excessive brightness" of His presence; and hell, the prison of His justice, with no other light than that which the fiery billows of His wrath cast, " pale and dread- ful," serving only to render u darkness visible." Here, too, we may witness the birth of the world which we inhabit ; stand, as it were, by its cradle ; and see it grow up from infancy to manhood under the forming hand of its Creator. We may see light at His summons starting into existence, and discovering a world of waters without a shore. Controlled by His word, the waters subside ; and islands and continents appear, not as now, clothed with ver- dure and fertility, but sterile and naked as the sands of Arabia. Again He speaks ; and the landscape appears, uniting the various beauties of spring, summer, and Autumn ; and extending further than the eye can reach. Still all is silent ; not even the hum of the insect is heard ; the stillness of death pervades creation; till, in an instant, songs burst from every grove ; and the startled spectator, raising his eyes from the carpet at his feet, sees the air, the earth, and the sea filled with life and activity in a thousand various forms. By opening this volume, we may, at any time, walk in the garden of Eden with Adam ; sit in the ark with Noah ; share the hospitality or witness the faith of Abraham ; as- cend the mount of God with Moses ; unite in the secret devotions of David ; or listen to the eloquent and impas- sioned address of St. Paul. Nay, more; we may here con- verse with Him who spake as never man spake ; participate with the spirits of the just made perfect in the employments and happiness of heaven. Destroy this volume, as the enemies of human happiness have vainly endeavored to do, and you render us profoundly ignorant of our Creator ; of the formation of the world which we inhabit ; of the origin and progenitors of our race ; of our present duty and future destination ; and con- sign us through life to the dominion of fancy, doubt, and conjecture. sterling's southern orator. 249 Destroy this volume, and you rob us of the consolatory expectation, excited by its predictions, that the stormy cloud, which has so long hung over a suffering world, will at length be scattered ; you forbid us to hope that the hour is approaching, when nation shall no more lift up sword against nation ; and righteousness, peace, and holy joy shall universally prevail ; and allow us to anticipate noth- ing but a constant succession of wars, revolutions, crimes, and miseries, terminating only with the end of time. Destroy this volume, and you deprive us, at a single blow, of religion, with all the animating consolations, hopes, and prospects which it affords ; and leave us nothing but the liberty of choosing (miserable alternative !) between the cheerless gloom of infidelity and the monstrous sha- dows of paganism ; you unpeople heaven ; bar forever its doors against the wretched posterity of Adam ; restore to the king of terrors his fatal sting ; bury hope in the same grave w r hich receives our bodies ; consign all who have died before us to eternal sleep or endless misery ; and allow us to expect nothing at death but a similar faith. In a word, destroy this volume, and you take from us at once every thing which prevents existence from becoming of all curses the greatest. You degrade man to a situation from which he may look with envy to " the brutes that perish." CXCVI. THE DEATH OF HON. HUGH L. WHITE.— W. C. Preston. I do not know, Mr. President, whether I am entitled to the honor I am about to assume in seconding the resolu- tions which have just been offered by the senator from Tennessee, in honor of his late distinguished colleague ; and yet, sir, I am not aware that any one present is more entitled to the melancholy honor, if it belongs to long acquaintance, to sincere admiration, and to intimate intercourse. If these circumstances do not entitle me to speak, I am sure every senator will feel, in the emotions which swell his own bosom, an apology for my desire to relieve my own, by bearing testimony to the virtues and talents, the long ser- vices and great usefulness, of Judge White. 250 sterling's southern orator. My infancy and youth were spent in a region contiguous to the sphere of his earlier fame and usefulness. As long as I can remember any thing, I remember the deep confidence he had inspired as a wise and upright judge, in which sta- tion no man ever enjoyed a purer reputation, or established a more implicit reliance in his abilities and honesty. There was an antique sternness and justness in his character. By a general consent he was called Cato. Subsequently, at a period of our public affairs very analogous to the present, he occupied a position which placed him at the head of the financial institutions of East-Tennessee. He sustained them by his individual character. The name of Hugh L. White was a guarantee that never failed to attract confidence. Institutions were sustained by the credit of an individual, and the only wealth of that individual was his character. From this more limited sphere of usefulness and reputation, he was first brought to this more conspicuous stage as a member of an important commission on the Spanish treaty, in which he was associated with Mr. Tazwell and Mr. King. His learning, his ability, his firmness, and industry im- mediately extended the sphere of his reputation to the boundaries of the country. Upon the completion of that duty, he came into this Senate. Of his career here, I need not speak. His grave and venerable form is even now be- fore us — that air of patient attention, of grave delibera- tion, of unrelaxed firmness. Here his position w T as of the highest — beloved, respected, honored ; always in his place — always prepared for the business in hand — always bringing to it the treasured reflections of a sedate and vigorous un- derstanding. Over one department of our deliberations he exercised a very peculiar control. In the management of our complex and difficult relations with the Indians we all deferred to him, and to this he addressed himself with unsparing labor, and with a wisdom, a patient benevo- lence that justified and vindicated the confidence of the Senate. In private life he was amiable and ardent. The current of his feelings was warm and strong. His long familiarity with public affairs had not damped the natural ardor of his tem- perament. We all remember the deep feeling with which he so recently took leave of this body, and how profoundly that feeling was reciprocated. The good-will, the love, the respect which we bestowed upon him then now give depth 251 and energy to the mournful feelings with which we offer a solemn tribute to his memory. cxovn. THE MILITARY GENIUS OF WASHINGTON. R. M. T. Hunter. Such were the means with which he wrested a mighty empire from the most powerful nation on earth. If then, as I have said before, military genius is to be measured by what it accomplished, need we fear the comparison between Washington and the most distinguished captains of the world ? If I chose, I might run the parallels between Washington and the great Frederick, or the still greater Napoleon, and show, by comparing their achievements with their means, that the proportional success of Washington was, perhaps, greater than either. They made war on a larger scale, their manoeuvres were grander, their battles mightier and far more imposing ; yet neither of them produced results from their military operations so important in their probable effects upon the future destiny of man, or so likely to be permanent or enduring. Both of them possessed large means, and neither respected moral restraints or barriers, if it was necessary to free them for military success, and the same may be said of nearly all the great captains of the world, with the exception of Washington. Upon his mili- tary escutcheon there rests neither stain nor blot. Amongst the shields of all the great military chiefs, Washington's needs neither name nor motto to identify, for it is to be known by its spotless brightness. CXCVIII. DEATH OP WILLIAM WIRT.— D. Webster. It is announced to us that one of the oldest, one of the ablest, one of the most distinguished members of this bar, lias departed this mortal life. William Wirt is no more! 252 sterling's southern orator He lias this day closed a professional career, among the longest and the most brilliant which the distinguished members of the profession in the United States have at any time accomplished. Unsullied in every thing which regards professional honor and integrity, patient of labor, and rich in those stores of learning which are the reward of patient labor and patient labor only, and, if equalled, yet certainly allowed not to be excelled in fervent, animated, and per- suasive eloquence, he has left an example which those who seek to raise themselves to great heights of professional eminence will hereafter emulonsly study. Fortunate, in- deed, will be the few who shall imitate it successfully. As a public man, it is not our peculiar duty to speak of Mr. Wirt here. His character in that respect belongs to his country, and to the history of his country. And, sir, if we were to speak of him in his private life, and in his social relations, all we could possibly say of his urbanity, his kindness, the faithfulness of his friendships, and the warrnth of his affections, would hardly seem sufficiently strong and glowing to do him justice, in the feeling and judgment of those who, separated now forever from his embraces, can only enshrine his memory in their bleeding hearts. Nor may we, sir, more than allude to that other relation which belonged to him, and belongs to us all : that high and paramount relation which connects man with Ids Maker ! It may be permitted us, however, to have the pleasure of recording his name as one who felt a deep sense of religious duty, and who placed ah his hopes of the future in the truth and in the doctrines of Christianity. CXCIX. THE SURE ROAD TO SUCCESS.— William Gaston. Deeply rooted principles of probity, confirmed habits of industry, and a determination to rely on one's own ex- ertions constitute, then, the great preparation for the dis- charge of the duties of man, and the best security for performing them with honor to one's self and benefit to other:-. But, it may be asked, what is there in such a life STERLING S SOUTHERN ORATOR. 253 of never-ending toil, effort, and privation, to recommend it to the acceptance of the young and the gay ? Those who aspire to heroic renown may, indeed, make up their minds to embrace these " hard doctrines;" hut it may be well questioned, whether happiness is not preferable to great- ness, and enjoyment more desirable than distinction. Let others, if they will, toil up "the steep where fame's proud temple shines afar," Ave choose rather to sport in luxurious ease and careless glee in the valley below. It is, indeed, on those who aspire to eminence that these injunctions are in- tended to be pressed with the greatest emphasis, not only because a failure in them would be more disastrous than in others, but because they are exposed to greater and more numerous dangers of error. But it is a sad mistake to sup- pose that they are not suited to all, and are not earnestly urged upon all, however humble their pretensions or mod- erate their views. Happiness as well as greatness, enjoy- ment as well as renown, have no friends so sure as integrity, diligence, and independence. We are not placed here to waste our days in wanton riot or inglorious ease, with appetites perpetually gratified and never palled, exempted from all care and solicitude, with life ever fresh and joys ever new. He who has fitted us for our condition, and assigned to us its appropriate duties, has not left His work unfinished, and omitted to provide a penalty for the neglect of our obligations. Labor is not more the duty than the blessing of man. Without it, there is neither mental nor physical vigor, health, cheerfulness, nor animation ; neither the eagerness of hope, nor the capacity to enjoy. Every human being must have some object to engage his atten- tion, excite his wishes, and rouse him to action, or he sinks, a prey to listlessness. For want of proper occupations, see strenuous idleness resorting to a thousand expedients — the race-course, the bottle, or the gaming-table, the frivolities of fashion, the debasements of sensuality, the petty con- tentions of envy, the grovelling pursuits of avarice, and all the various distracting agitations of vice. Call you these enjoyments? Is such the happiness which it is so dreadful to forego ? "Vast happiness enjoy thy gay allies! A youth of follies, an old age of cares, Young yet enervate ; old yet never wise ; Yav pastes their vigor, and their mind impairs. 254 sterling's southern orator. Vain, idle, dissolute, in thoughtless ease, Reserving woes for age, their prime they spend ; All wretched, hopeless to the evil days, With sorrow to the verge of life they tend ; Grieved with the present, of the past ashamed ; They live, and are despised ; they die, no more are named." cc. INTEMPERANCE.— E. Everett. Next come the ravages of this all-destroying vice on the health of its victims. You see them resolved, as it were, to anticipate the corruption of their natures. They cannot wait to get sick and die. They think the worm is slow in his approach, and sluggish at his work. They wish to re- convert the dust, before their hour comes, into its primitive deformity and pollution. My friend called it a partial death. I would rather call it a double death, by which they drag about with them, above the grave, a mass of diseased, decaying, aching clay. They will not only commit suicide, but do it in such a way as to be the witnesses and con- scious victims of the cruel process of self-murder; doing it by degrees — by inches; quenching the sight, benumbing the brain, laying down the arm of industry to be cut off; and changing a fair, healthy, robust frame for a shrinking, suffering, living corpse, with nothing of vitality but the power of suffering, and with every thing of death but its peace. Then follows the wreck of property — the great object of human pursuit; the temporal ruin, which comes, like an avenging angel, to waste the substance of the intemperate; which crosses their threshold, commissioned to plague them with all the horrors of a ruined fortune and blasted pros- pect ; and passes before their astonished sight, in the dread array of affairs perplexed, debts accumulated, substance squandered, honor tainted — wife, children, cast upon the mercy of the world — and he, who should have been their guardian and protector, dependent for his unearned daily bread on those to whom he is a burden and a curse. Bad as all this is, much as it is, it is neither the greatest nor the worst part of the aggravations of the crime of in- sterling's southern orator. 255 temperance. It produces consequences of still more awful moment. It first exasperates the passions, and then takes off from them the restraints of the reason and will, mad- dens and then unchains the tiger, ravening for blood; tramples all the intellectual and moral man under the feet of the stimulated clay; lays the understanding, the kind affections, and the conscience in the same grave with pros- perity and health ; and, having killed the body, kills the soul! CCI. THE CLOSE OF WASHINGTON'S LIFE. — Willis G. Clahk. But the crowning glory of "Washington's course was its close. Nothing could be more glorious than such a life but such a death. Encircled by his family, w r atched by eyes that loved him, and attended with tender ministra- tions, his body parted from his soul, and that immortal guest of his earthly tabernacle ascended to heaven. As that hour approached, his contentment and peace w T ere indescribable. He saw, if his thoughts were then momen- tarily of earth, through the long vista of coming years, the grandeur and beauty of a new republic, made free by his hand ; teeming with all kind of riches, and filling with a virtuous and well-governed people. How beautiful a pros- pect ! We read, of late, of the death of a king of Europe, W'ho, when on his dying pillow, caused a mirror to be placed near his bed, that he might see his army defile in their glittering uniforms before him; an insubstantial pic- ture — mere shadows on glass, showing, in a most strik- ing emblem, how the glory of this world passeth away. But Washington had retired from his armies; throughout the land, " Glad Peace was tinkling 1 in the farmer's bell, And singing with the reaners : " and he had no regret in his hour of departure. Can we scarcely refrain from allowing to that hour the unutterable splendor of an apotheosis ? lie had fought his 256 sterling's southern orator. warfare ; he had left his testimony for the rights of men and obedience to Heaven ; and is it too much to imagine him looking, at his last moment, toward heaven, with his dying eyes, and exclaiming with chastened rapture : " What means yon blaze on high ? The empyrean sky, Like the rich veil of some proud fane, is rending ; I see the star-paved land, Where all the angels stand, Even to the highest height, in burning rows ascending ; Some with their wings outspread, And bowed the stately head, As on some errand of God's love departing, Like flames from evening conflagration starting ; The heralds of Omnipotence are they, And nearer earth they come, to waft my soul away ! " con. CHRISTIANITY.— Bev. B. M. Palmer, D.D. Nov/, in glowing contrast with all this, consider the in- fluence of Christianity as a religion of simple facts. It opens with the grand announcement that God is ; and to all presumptuous inquiries into His essence, the rebuke comes with a voice of thunder from His pavilion, " Canst thou, by searching, find out God ? Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection ? It is high as heaven, what canst thou do ? Deeper than hell, what canst thou know ? The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea." If men would inquire into the generation of the universe, it turns the eye of faith, beyond the whole series of outward phenomena, to God's infinite power, and contemplates creation as a great incomprehensible fact : " Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear." It does not suffer a metaphysical trinity like the Hindoo, Buddhist, or Platonic to be spun from human speculations, but baptizes us into the name of the one God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. It deals in no alTegories of incarnate deities, but declares sterling's southern orator. 257 as fact, " The Lord was made flesh, and dwelt amongst us, and we beheld His glory." It reveals God, not as a blind fate, working concealed behind necessary laws of nature, but God moving up and down in human history, " doing His pleasure among the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of earth." It proclaims an historical Christ, who lived and wept and died among men, and who now reigns " a Prince and a Saviour at the rio;ht hand of the Majesty in the heavens." It has a philosophy, indeed, which reason' s golden reed shall take an eternity to measure, for the length and the breadth and the height of it are equal : a philosophy whose depth shall not be plumbed this side the gates of heaven. Yet, as a religion, its basis is the testimony of God, ac- crediting the facts which are level to the peasant and the sage alike. Both accept it upon the same grounds, and by the same faith in a divine testimony. Thus Christianity is competent to be, what paganism is not, a catholic reli- gion for man as man, embracing within its comprehension, sympathy, and holy fellowship all ranks of social condition. CCIII. THE HEROES OF MOORE'S CREEK.— Joshua G. Wright. And now, my countrymen, my mission is well-nigh accom- plished. I have read to you from that bright but bloody page in our country's history, which tells of the trials and the triumphs of those who made the tented field the scene of their glory. Gladly would I turn the leaf and pass to that page whereon is written the not less glorious story of those civic heroes who, in the revolutionary councils of the State, gave form and texture to our government, and have made our annals radiant with their wisdom and their gal- lantry. Right gladly would I present to your admiring gaze your Hooper and your Harnett, and other u bright par- ticular stars" of your section, and of your State, who shone out so brilliantly from the darkness which then brooded over our political firmament. But the waning hour which your kindness has allowed me warns me to forbear. 258 sterling's southern orator. Suffice it, then, to say that even such as I have feebly sketched to you were the men who lived in the heroic age of our land — an age illustrated by deeds worthy of the proudest epic the historic muse can chant. Standing, as we do, far removed from that day of doubt and danger, and reaping, as we are, a rich harvest of blessings from that tree of liberty which they planted in this good land, and wa- tered by their blood, little do we know of the terrors and the trials which they braved and bore in upholding the holy cause of liberty. I tell you, my countrymen, that, if such men had lived in the foregone ages of antiquity, their deeds would have made them demigods, and their fame would have carried them to the proudest places in the Pantheon of history. Shall we, then, dishonor by forgetfulness that " breed of noble bloods," who alike in camp and* council so gloriously championed the cause of our country ? Shall we, like degenerate sons, bastardize the blood of such sires by the disloyalty of ingratitude ? One by one they have gone down to the dust they rescued from oppression ; but from every sepulchral sod which covers their ashes, me- thinks I hear a voice calling upon us to commemorate their deeds, and to cherish their memories. I catch that call and bear it to you this day, my countrymen. By all the glorious memories of the past, by all the cheering anticipations of the future, I conjure you to perpetuate the renown of your illustrious dead, and to make classic the scenes of their toils and their triumphs. CCIV BRITISH AGGRESSION.— James H. Hammond. Sir, I am like the gentleman from Georgia in one respect. The officers of the English government have perpetrated acts upon our commerce, on the high seas, which we cannot permit. These resolutions seem, under one interpretation of them, to imply that it is our wish to enter into negotia- tions with Great Britain about the right of search or right of visitation, and to require of her an open and express abandonment of that right. I do not want any negotiations with Great Britain, or any discussions with Great Britain, sterling's southern orator. 259 about the right of search or right of visitation. That is a subject which is exhausted ; our minds are made up on that question ; and we do not wish that the government of Eng- land should understand that we consider the question on our part as open for any argument. We have made up our minds on it. We only wish to negotiate with her about these acts. When she refuses to make reparation for them, then we will decide whether they are of consequence or importance enough, either to our honor or our interest, to make them cause of war. Great Britain may be perfectly willing to renounce these acts, to disavow them ; and that is all we have a right to demand. What her reason may be for the commission of these acts is entirely unimportant to us. Whether she has done them under any supposed emergency, whether she has done them because she feels authorized to do them in virtue of any right of search or visitation to which she may pretend, is a matter of indiffer- ence to us. We may say to her : " Hold your opinions, but forbear to do those acts which are injurious to us and for which we must make war ; that is all we ask." She is fully authorized, so far as I am concerned, to maintain her pretensions to visitation and search until time shall wear them out and obliterate them. I will not quarrel with her for an opinion ; I will not go to war with her for a difference of opinion ; but when she undertakes to perform acts under those opinions, those acts I am concerned with, and those acts I must resist or submit to, as it best suits me. I want no discussion about the right of visitation or the right of search, and I should think it unworthy of this government to enter into any negotiation on that subject. I care not upon what grounds she may found her pretensions. All I ask of her is, to forbear such action as is injurious to my country; and when she has done that, she may weigh as she pleases, in her national pride before the world, all these sovereign rights of hers about visitation and search on the high seas, to the nations who please to submit to them. I want to negotiate about these acts, these acts merely, and no further negotiation than to inform Great Britain of the acts that have been perpetrated or performed by her officers on our coast, and to know of her whether she is willing to make that reparation which this country thinks it is entitled to. I want an answer on that point — no more negotiation about it, unless it relates to 'the simple facts that are 260 STERLING'S SOUTHERN" ORATOR. brought in question. Was the attack made ? Under what circumstances was it made ? With what aggravations, or with what circumstances of mitigation, was it made ? These are the only topics of negotiation between us. I want no more learning, I want no more diplomacy, upon the ques- tion of visitation. I will not ask Great Britain for a re- nunciation of that, because I care nothing about it. Upon whatever pretensions, high or low, ancient or modern, you find a right to stop our ships engaged in lawful commerce on the high seas, that thing we will not submit to. As long as you entertain these opinions, and hold them as opinions merely, we will not quarrel with you about them, however erroneous we may think them ; but the moment you attempt to act on that or any other pretence, and to perform acts injurious to us, we will resist those acts. ccv. DEATH OF HENRY CLAY.— J. J. Breckinridge. Mr. Speaker, the signs of woe around us, and the general voice, announce that another great man has fallen. Our consolation is, that he was not taken in the vigor of his man- hood, but sank into the grave at the close of a long and illustrious career. The great statesmen who have filled the largest space in the public eye, one by one are passing away. Of the three great leaders of the Senate, one alone remains, and he must follow soon. We shall witness no more their intellectual struggles in the American forum; but the monuments of their genius will be cherished as the common property of the people, and their names will con- tinue to confer dignity and renown upon their country. Not less illustrious than the greatest of these w T ill be the name of Clay — a name pronounced with pride by Americans in every quarter of the globe ; a name to be remembered while history shall record the struggles of modern Greece for freedom, or the spirit of liberty burn in the South-Ameri- can bosom : a living and immortal name — a name that would descend to prosterity without the aid of letters, borne by tradition from generation to generation. Every memorial of such a man will possess a meaning and a value to his sterling's southern orator. 261 countrymen. His tomb will be a hallowed spot. Great memories will cluster there, and his countrymen, as they visit it, may well exclaim : " Such graves as his are pilgrim shrines, Shrines to no creed or code confined ; The Delphian vales, the Palestines, The Meccas of the mind." CCVI. THE DEATH OF DANIEL WEBSTER.— L. Preston. Daniel Webster is dead. He died without ever having been elevated to the Presidency of the nation. Camillus, the second founder of Rome, never enjoyed the consulate; but he was not less illustrious because he was not rewarded by the fasces and the consular purple. Before the lustre of Webster's renown, a merely presidential reputation must grow pale. He has not only left a reputation of unsurpass- ed lustre in the Senate, but he will also pass down to pos- terity as the ablest and most profound jurist of his day. As an orator, he had not, as has been correctly observed, the vehemence of Demosthenes nor the splendor of Cice- ro ; but still Daniel Webster was an orator — an orator marked by the characteristics of the Teutonic race — bold, massive, and replete with manly force and vigor. His writings are marked by a deep philosophy which will cause them to be read when the issues that evoked them have passed away, and the splendor of an imagination, almost as rich as that of Burke, will invest them with attractions alike for the political scholar and the man of letters. We should not deplore the death of Webster. It is true the star has shot from the sphere it illuminated, and is lost in the gloom of death; but he sank full of years and hon- ors, after he had reached the verge of human life, and be- fore his majestic intellect was dimmed or his body bowed down by old age. He did not sink into his grave, like Marl- borough, amid the mists of dotage; but he went while his intellect was unclouded, and the literary remembrances of his youth came thronging to the dying bed of their votary. Napoleon, when he was expiring at^St. Helena, muttered 262 STERLING'S SOUTHERN- ORATOR. disconnected words of command and battle, that showed his turbulent mind still struggled in imaginary conflicts ; but gentler spirits brought to the death-bed of the states- man of Marshfield more consoling memories as he mur- mured, " The curfew tolls the knell of parting day ;" and all the tender and mournful beauties of that inimitable elegy clustered around his soul. CCVII. AN ELOQUENT PERORATION.— Reyerdy Johnson. Is the cause one that justifies or excuses a refusal to associ- ate politically with Northern brethren ? If it is, where will it lead ? No sane man can believe that such legislation can now be obtained. If not, the remedy, and the only one left to the South, unless she is false to her professed convictions of duty, and acts the mere braggart, is secession from Congress, and of course from the Union. Is this mere theoretical, abstract question — the most abstract, as truly said by Governor Cobb, ever presented for political discus- sion — to sunder the ties which have so long and gloriously kept us together and made us a nation, the wonder and admiration of the world ? May the memory and spirit of our fathers forbid it ! May the hope of freedom throughout Christendom not be blasted by it ! May so foul a dishonor never be suffered to tarnish the American name ! Oh ! that Choate and Webster were living to animate the hearts of their countrymen with their own patriotic fire, and in- voke them, as they surely would, to gather around the Union, and upon its altar swear perpetual allegiance to it. Oh, that they were now here to fill these walls once more, in this their country's trial, with their lessons of wisdom and duty, and to commend them to national approval by their almost superhuman eloquence. But the hope is vain. Let us therefore, stimulated by the memories of the great dead, nerve ourselves to the struggle. Let us, standing by the rights of all under the constitution, maintain those rights sterling's southern orator. 263 with untiring devotion and with scrupulous good faith. Let us do all we can to restore our ancient harmony, our former fraternity, and, discarding all sectional prejudices, demonstrate to the world that we recognize as country- men the whole people of the United States, that we know but one country, that which is now covered by one glori- ous ensign, of all the stripes and the stars, and that we will now and forever support the government formed by our fathers, for the common defence and general welfare, and to secure to them and their posterity the blessings of liberty forever. Let us, in the words of a statesman, a native of your own noble State, and whose whole life was distinguished by eminent services, adhere to this our pur- pose with inflexible resolution, as to the horns of the altar. Instil its principles with unwearied perseverance into the minds of our children, bind our souls and theirs to the National Union, as the cords of life are centred in the heart, and we surely then will u soar with rapid wing to the sum- mit of human glory." CCVIII. DAVIE AND MOORE.— Akch. D. Muhphey. Two individuals, who received their education during the war, (Revolution,) were destined to keep alive the rem- nant of our literature and prepare the public mind for the establishment of this university, (the University of North- Carolina.) These were William R. Davie and Alfred Moore. Each of them had endeared himself to his country by taking an active part in the latter scenes of the war ; and when pub- lic order was restored and the courts of justice were opened, they appeared at the bar, where they quickly rose to emi- nence, and for many years shone like meteors in North-Caro- lina. They adorned the courts in which they practised, gave energy to the laws, and dignity to the administration of justice. Their genius was different, and so was their eloquence. Davie took Lord Bolingbroke for his model, and Moore, Dean Swift; and each applied himself with so much diligence to the study of his model, that literary men could 264 sterling's southern orator, easily recognize in the eloquence of Davie the lofty, flow- ing style of Bolingbroke ; and in that of Moore, the plain- ness and precision of Swift. They roused the ambition of parents and their sons ; they excited emulation among ingenuous youth ; they depicted in glowing colors the necessity of establishing a public school or university, in which the young men of the State should be educated. The General Assembly resolved to found a university. I was present in the House of Commons when Davie address- ed that body upon the bill granting a loan of money to the trustees for erecting the buildings of this university ; and although more than thirty years have since elapsed, I have the most vivid recollections of the greatness of his manner and the power of his eloquence on that occasion. In the House of Commons he had no rival, and upon all great questions which came before that body his eloquence was irresistible. The genius and intellectual habits of Moore fitted him for the bar rather than a deliberative assembly. Public opinion was divided upon the question whether he or Davie excelled at the bar. Moore was a small man, neat in his dress, and graceful in his manners ; his voice was clear and sonorous, his perceptions quick, and his judgment almost intuitive ; his style was chaste, and his manner of speaking animated. Having adopted Swift as his model, his language was always plain. The clearness and energy of his mind enabled him, almost without an effort, to disen- tangle the most intricate subject, and expose it in all its parts to the simplest understanding. He spoke with ease and with force, enlivened his discourses with flashes of wit, and, where the subject required it, with all the bitter- ness of sarcasm. His speeches were short and impressive ; when he sat down, every one thought he had said every thing that he ought to have said. Davie was a tall, elegant man in his person, graceful and commanding in his man- ners; his voice was mellow and adapted to the expression of every passion ; his mind comprehensive, yet slow in its operations, when compared with his great rival. His style was magnificent and flowing ; and he had a greatness of manner in public speaking which suited his style, and gave to his speeches an imposing effect. He was a laborious student, arranged his discourses with care, and where the subject suited his genius, poured forth a torrent of elo- quence that astonished and enraptured his audience. They stehlixg's southern orator. 265 looked upon him with delight, listened to his long, harmo- nious periods, caught his emotions, and indulged the ecstasy of feeling which fine speaking and powerful eloquence alone can produce. He is certainly to be ranked among the first orators, and his rival, Moore, among the first advocates, which the American nation has produced. ccix. SUFFERINGS OF THE SOUTH.— G. Dawson. Especially did the South suffer in the loss of her young men, " the rose and expectancy of the fair young state." " The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are serest ; But our flowers were in flushing When the blighting was nearest. The hand of the reaper Plucks the ears that are hoary ; But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory/' Stripped of their fortunes, suddenly reduced from afflu- ence to penury; turned houseless into the world ; driven, as it were, forth like dumb cattle to the fields, to take upon their shelterless heads the pitiless peltings of the elements, and peltings more pitiless still of want and woe ; forced, as some were, to hear from the lisping lips of their famishing little ones, cries for bread, often when they had not a crumb to give them — I ask you, fellow-citizens, when you remem- ber all this, and, moreover, that thousands of those who suffered thus were as innocent as angels in heaven of hav- ing any thing to do with the bringing on the war, have they not suffered enough? Must that heart not be an obdurate one that will not respect such burdens ? Can it be possible that it can be in the heart of the Northern peo- ple to wish to see us suffer any more ? I do not believe it. My faith is as firm as adamant in the great popular heart of the North. I am not one of those who sneer at the heart. I prefer to sympathize with that eloquent writer who said : 12 266 sterling's southern orator. " The velvet moss will grow upon the sterile rock, the mistle- toe flourish on the withered branch, the ivy cling to the mouldering ruin, and the pine and cedar remain fresh and fadeless through all the mutations of the dying years ; and, heaven be praised ! something green, something beautiful to see and grateful to the soul, will, in the coldest and in the darkest hour of fate, still twine its tendrils round the broken arches and crumbling altars of the desolate temples of the human heart." And so we will find it, if we will trust it. I have heard often applied to it such hard names as " iron," "steel," " flint," "marble," and "rock;" but if you will study its generous impulses, " Each, cliord its various tone, Each spring its separate "bias," I think you will find that, if it is a rock, it is a great JEolian rock-harp, strung with a thousand and one sensitive strings, and that, when over them the warm breath of affec- tion floats, forth music will gush, as water did from that rock in the wilderness when it was smitten by the rod of Moses. When Douglas was attempting to carry the heart of Bruce, in a silver case, to the Holy Land to bury it, he was attacked by Turks ; and when the result of the fight was becoming doubtful, he took the silver case containing the heart and threw it among the ranks of the enemy, say- ing : " Go forward, brave heart t)f Bruce, and I will follow as I have always done !" Now, if the conservative leaders will take the great throbbing heart of the Northern people and throw it among the ranks of the Radicals, it will go forward, and, if they will follow, the constitution will tri- umph. ccx. MEMORIAL OF THE YOUNG MEN OF PHILADELPHIA. S. L. Southard. With but few of them am I personally acquainted, and must rely, in what I say of them, upon what I know of those few, and upon the information received from others, sterling's southern orator. 267 which I regard as sure and safe. And on these I venture to assure the Senate that no meeting of young men can be collected, in any portion of our wide country, on any occa- sion, containing more intelligence, more virtuous purpose, more manly and honorable feeling, more decided and ener- getic character. What they say they think. What they resolve they will accomplish. Their proceedings were ar- dent and animated — their resolutions are drawn with spirit ; but are such as, I think, may be properly received and re- spected by the Senate. They relate to the conduct of the executive— to the present condition of the country — to the councils which now direct its destinies. They admit that older and more mature judgments may better understand the science of government and its practical operations, but they act upon a feeling, just in itself and valuable in its effects, that they are fit to form and express opinions on public measures and public principles, which shall be their own guide in their present and future conduct ; and they express a confident reliance on the moral and physical vigor and untamable love of freedom of the young men of the United States to save us from despotism, open and avowed, or silent, insidious, and deceitful. They were attracted, or rather urged, sir, to this meeting, and to the expression of their feelings and opinions, by what they saw around, and knew of the action of the executive upon the currency and prosperity of the country. They have just entered, or are about entering, on the busy occupations of manhood, and are suddenly surprised by a state of things around them new to their observation and experience. Calamity had been a stranger in their pathway. They have grown up through their boyhood in the enjoyments of present com- fort, and the anticipations of future prosperity — their se- niors actively and successfully engaged in various occupa- tions of the community, and the whole circle of employ- ments open before their own industry and hopes — the in- stitutions of their country beloved, and their protecting influence covering the exertions of all for their benefit and happiness. In this State they saw the public prosperity, with which alone they were familiar, blasted, and for the time destroyed. The whole scene, their whole country was changed; they witneSed fortunes filling, homesteads ruined, merchants failing, artisans broken, mechanics impoverished, all the employments ' on which they were about to enter 268 sterling's southern orator. paralyzed; labor denied to the needy, and reward to the industrious; losses of millions of property and gloom set- tling where joy and happiness before existed. They felt the sirocco pass by and desolate the plains where peace, and animation, and happiness exulted. ccxi. GENERAL SAMUEL HOUSTON.— Thomas H. Benton. Just in its origin, valiant and humane in its conduct, sacred in its object, the Texian revolt has illustrated the Anglo-Saxon character, and gives it new titles to the re- spect and admiration of the world. It shows that liberty, justice, -valor — moral, physical, and intellectual power — discriminate that race wherever it goes. Let our America rejoice, let Old England rejoice, that the Brazos and Colorado, new and^strange names — streams far beyond the western bank of the " Father of Floods " — have felt the impress, and witnessed the exploits of a people sprung from their loins, and carrying their language, laws, and customs, their Magna Charta and its glorious privileges, into new regions and far distant climes. Of the individuals w^ho have purchased lasting renown in this young war, it would be impossible, in this place, to speak in detail, and in- vidious to discriminate ; but there is one among them whose position forms an exception, and whose early associations with myself justify and claim the tribute of a particular notice. I speak of him whose romantic victory has given to the Jacinto that immortality in grave and serious history which the diskos of Apollo had given to it in the fabulous pages of the heathen mythology. General Houston was born in the State of Virginia, county of Rockbridge ; he was appointed an ensign in the army of the United States, during the late war with Great Britain, and served in the Creek campaign under the banners of Jackson. I was the lieutenant-colonel of the regiment to which he belonged, and the first field officer to whom #»e reported. I then marked in him the same soldierly and gentlemanly qualities which have since distinguished his eventful career; frank, sterling's southern orator. 269 generous, brave; ready to do or to suffer whatever the obli- gation of civil or military duty imposed ; and always prompt to answer the call of honor, patriotism, and friendship. Sin- cerely do I rejoice in his victory. It is a victory without alloy, and without a parallel, except at New-Orleans. It is a victory which the civilization of the age and the honor of the human race required him to gain ; for the nineteenth cen- tury is not the age in which a repetition of the Goliad mo- tives could be endured. Nobly has he answered the requi- sition ; fresh and luxuriant are the laurels which adorn his brow. ccxn. EULOGY ON HENRY CLAY.— Rev. C. M. Butleu, D.D., Chap- lain U. S. Senate. A great mind, a great heart, a great orator, a great career, have been consigned to history. She will record his rare gifts of deep insight, keen discrimination, clear statement, rapid combination, plain, direct, and convincing logic. She will love to dwell on that large, generous, mag- nanimous, open, forgiving heart. She will linger with fond delight on the recorded and traditional stories of an elo- quence that was so masterful and stirring, because it was but himself struggling to come forth on the living words — because, though the words were brave and strong, and beautiful and melodious, it was felt that behind them there was a soul braver, stronger, more beautiful, and more melo- dious than language could express. She will point to a ca- reer of statesmanship which has, to a remarkable degree, stamped itself on the public policy of the country, and reached, in beneficent, practical results, the fields, the looms, the commercial marts, and the quiet homes of all the land, where his name was with the departed fathers, and is with the living children, and will be, with successive generations, an honored household word. I feel, as a man, the grandeur of this career. Bat as an immortal, with this broken Avreck of mortality before me, with this scene as the " end-all " of human glory, I feel that 270 sterling's southern orator. no career is truly great but that of him who, whether it he illustrious or obscure, lives to the future in the ^present, and linking himself to the spiritual world, draws from God the life, the rule, the motive, and the reward of all his labor. So would that great spirit which has departed say to us, could he address us now. So did he realize in the calm and meditative close of life. I feel that I but utter the les- sons which, living, were his last and best convictions, and which, dead, would be, could he speak to us, his solemn ad- monitions, when I say that statesmanship is then only glori- ous when it is Christian / and that the man is then only safe and true to his duty and his soul when the life which he lives in the flesh is the life of faith in the Son of God, CCXIII. VIRGINIA.— D. W. Vookhees. Virginia teaches no doubtful lesson on the subject of her devotion to the Constitution and the Union. Happy are they who sit at her feet and learn wisdom from her pre- cepts ! She is rich in historical renown. She rocked the cradle of the Union and defended the infant Hercules from the grasp of the serpent. Within her bosom repose the ashes of those most illustrious in the cause of liberty since the song of Miriam arose as a song of deliverance on the banks of the Red Sea. The curious traveller threads his way amongst the tombs of Westminster Abbey, and on either hand sleep kings, conquerors, princes, poets, states- men, historians, and philosophers. In that solemn pile ge- nius rests from its brilliant triumphs and its exquisite sor- rows, and eloquence and learning hallow the spot with the glory of intellectual excellence. But the modest eminence of Mount Vernon and the quiet heights of Monticello con- tain more precious dust than was ever treasured away in the " storied urn" of human greatness or the royal sepulchre of kings. The soil of this ancient and revered commonwealth is rich with the shrines of the mighty. Her children have been the tall spirits of the earth, and every mountain is full of thrilling memories. The drama of the Revolution closed sterling's southern orator. 271 within her borders. The spirit of American liberty here first took assurance of safety, and a permanent existence. But the historian who records the various and exalted glo- ries of Virginia will find in her loyalty and devotion to the Union and the Constitution as it now is something of more priceless value, a jewel of more radiant lustre, than any of the historical glories with which she is so richly decorated. Whatever hereafter may be the policy reluctantly adopted by Virginia, no one can charge her with a willing and ready desertion of the established order of things. ccxiv. PLEA FOR THE UNION— 1850.— H. Clay. Look at all history — consult her pages, ancient or mod- ern ; look at human nature ; look at the contest in which you would be engaged in the supposition of war following upon the dissolution of the Union, such as I have sug- gested ; and I ask you if it is possible for you to doubt that the final disposition of the whole would be some despot treading down the liberties of the people — the final result would be the extinction of this last and glorious light which is leading all mankind, who are gazing upon it, in the hope and anxious expectation that the liberty which prevails here will, sooner or later, be diffused throughout the whole of the civilized world. Sir, can you lightly contemplate these consequences? Can you yield yourself to the tyr- anny of passion, amid' dangers which I have depicted in colors far too tame, of w T hat the result would be if that direful event, to which I have referred, should ever occur ? Sir, I implore gentlemen, I adjure them, whether from the South or the North, by all that they hold dear in this world — by all their love of liberty — by all their veneration for their ancestors — by all their regard for posterity — by till their gratitude to Him w^ho has bestowed on them such unnumbered and countless blessings — by all the duties which they owe to mankind — and all the duties which they owe to themselves, to pause, solemnly to pause at the edge of the before the fearful and dangerous leap be taken 272 sterling's southern orator. into the yawning abyss below, from which none who ever take it shall return in safety. Finally, Mr. President, and in conclusion, I implore, as the best blessing which heaven can bestow upon me, upon earth, that, if the direful event of the dissolution of the Union is to happen, I shall not survive to see the sad and heart-rending spectacle. ccxv. FUNERAL ADDRESS AT THE GRAVE OF ELISHA MITCH- ELL, D.D.— Rt. Rev. James H. Otey, D.D. But what has convened this vast assembly ? What has brought the people from their homes as far as the eye can reach from this proud eminence over all the land below, to gather here in solemn silence — seriousness impressed on every countenance, and reverence enthroned on every brow? The dwellers in vales and on the mountain-tops are here. The husbandman has left his plough ; the artisan his tools ; the professional man his office; the merchant has quit the busy mart of trade; the man of science has closed the doors of his study ; the student has laid aside his books to come hither! "The bridegroom has come forth from his chamber, and the bride from her closet," the fathers and mothers of the land are here ! " Young men and maidens, "old men and children ; " and .the ministers of the sanctuary are here to do honor to this occasion, and in this place, no " unfit audience chamber of heaven's King," to consecrate the spot, as far as the act of man may, " to deathless fame ! " No martial music breaks upon the hearing, stirring the hearts of men, and gathering armed hosts in the serried ranks of battle; no sound of the trumpet nor voice of prophet has collected this mighty concourse of living men ! I never saw such an assembly ; I never expect to see the like again ! I never read of any thing in history approach- ing its equal, or its parallel, except the gathering of the hosts of Israel on Mount Carmel at the call of Elijah ! In the physical features of the scene here presented to the eye, the proportions of grandeur and beauty more than equal those of Carmel. The moral grandeur of the object, and sterling's southern orator. 273 of the assembly gathered by Elijah, far surpass ours. In- deed, they were never equalled in our world except when God descended upon Sinai, and, surrounded by terrible em- blems of power and glory, proclaimed His law to His people. But what has moved us, as by the spirit of one man, to be here to-day! From the banks of the majestic Missis- sippi in the west, and from the shores where thunders the Atlantic wave in the east, we have met on this midway ground. For what ? To do homage to goodxess, my countrymen ! Some of us to pay the tribute of our love in tears to the memory of one who was as dear to us as a father ! Many of us who in years long past could appro- priate the language of the prophet in behalf of Israel, and say, " My Father ! thou art the guide of my youth." All of us to testify our appreciation of merit, and by one act to link forever the honored name of Elisha Mitchell with this monarch of mountains. Here, then, and to-day, we commit to the ground all that remains of his perishable body. Here, in the face of heaven, in the light of yonder sun, whose radiance beams brightly on this spot when darkness veils the world below, and the storm-cloud with its fringes of fire girdles the mountain waist ; in the name of truth, honor, and justice; by right of prior discovery; by merit of being the first to claim the honor of actual measurement and mathematical determination; by virtue of labors en- dured with unremitting patience, and terminated only by * death ; we consecrate this mountain by the name of Mt. Mitchell, and we call upon you to speak your approval, and say Amen ! Yes, we consecrate it — a monument raised to the memory of Dr. Elisha Mitchell, to a fame, " Unwasting, deathless, and sublime, That will remain while lightnings quiver, Or stars the hoary summits climb, Or rolls the thunder chariot of Eternal Time." CCXVI. BRITISH REFUGEES.— Patrick Henhy. Ixstead of refusing permission to the refugees to return, it is your true policy to encourage immigration to this country by every means in your power. Sir, you must 274 STERLING S SOUTHERN ORATOR. have men. You cannot get along without them. Those heavy forests of timber, under which your lands are groan- ing, must be cleared away. Those vast riches which cover the face of your soil, as well as those which lie hid in its bosom, are to be developed and gathered only by the skill and enterprise of men. Your timber must be worked up into ships, to transport the productions of the soil, and find the best markets for them abroad. Your great want is the want of men; and these you must have, and will have speedily, if you are wise. Do you ask how you are to get them ? Open your doors, sir, and they will come. The population of the Old World is full to overflowing. That population is ground, too, by the oppressions of the governments under which they live. They are already standing on tiptoe upon their native shores, and looking to your coasts with a wishful and long- ing eye. They see here a land blessed with natural and political advantages, which are not equalled by those of any other country on earth ; a land on which a gracious Provi- dence hath emptied the horn of abundance; a land over which peace hath now stretched forth her white wings, and where content and plenty lie down at every door. They see something still more attractive than this. They see a land in which Liberty has taken up her abode ; that Liberty whom they had considered as a fabled goddess, ex- isting only in the fancies of the poets. They see her here, a real divinity; her altars rising on every -hand, throughout these happy States ; her glories chanted by three millions of tongues ; and the whole region smiling under her blessed influence. Let but this celestial goddess, Liberty, stretch forth her fair hand toward the people of the Old World, tell them to come, and bid them welcome, and you will see them pouring in from the north, from the south, from the east, and from the west. Your wilderness will be cleared and settled, your deserts will smile, your ranks will be filled, and you will soon be in a condition to defy the powers of any adversary. But gentlemen object to any accession from Great Bri- tain, and particularly to the return of the British refu- gees. Sir, I feel no objection to the return of those deluded people. They have, to be sure, mistaken their own inter- ests most wonderfully, and most woefully have they suf fered the punishment due to their offences. But the rela- sterling's southern orator. 275 tions which we bear to them and to their native country are now changed. Their king hath acknowledged our inde- pendence. The quarrel is over. Peace hath returned, and found us a free people. Let us have the magnanimity to lay aside our antipathies and prejudices, and consider the subject in a political light. They are an enterprising, moneyed people. They will be serviceable in taking oft* the surplus produce of our lands, and supplying us with necessaries during the infant state of our manufactures. Even if they be inimical to us in point of feeling and principle, I can see no objection, in a political view, to making them tributary to our advantage. And as I have no prejudices to prevent my making use of them, .so I have no fear of any mischief they can do us. Afraid of them ! What, sir, shall we, who have laid the proud British lion at our feet, now be afraid of his whelps f CCXVII. EEMEDY FOE SECTIONAL HOSTILITY.— G. Dawson. Between the people of the North and the people of the^ South, there are certain bonds of sympathy which are deli- cate and holy, and, under proper culture, may be made to expand and grow, widen and deepen, until they will hold in their strong clasp every heart in the wide land, and bind us affectionately together. One of these bonds is our afflic- tions, our common sorrows. The South was not the only sufferer in the war. The North lost many of her bravest and noblest sons. Even amid the storm of battle, death seemed ever aiming his fatal shafts at bright marks. Therefore let the North and the South meet as friends in affliction, having common griefs, sacred griefs. Let us consign to oblivion's bottomless gulf the past with all of its trials and troubles, hatreds and hor- rors, and let us teach our lips the language of love and not that of strife. Let us recur as seldom as possible to themes mutually distasteful and disagreeable, and let our allusions to those who have fallen on either side always be respectful and kind. Every man who fell fighting where his conscience 276 sterling's southern orator. told him duty called him, won a name that generations yet to be born will honor, and let us not desecrate the ashes of these brave martyrs by the rude trampling of unholy feet. " On fame's eternal camping ground Their silent tents are spread ; Let glory guard with, solemn round The bivouac of the dead." Woman is earth's angel. She is the morning star of man's infancy, the day star of his manhood, and the evening star of his old age. This is her golden opportunity to play an angel's part in her country's salvation. Let but the daugh- ters of the North and the daughters of the South meet with their floral offerings annually on some great national me- morial day on the fields where our heroes " fought their last battle and sleep their last sleep," and let their flowers mingle their fragrance as they fall together with their tears upon the lowly pillows of the loved and lost. Let them kneel together there, and let their prayers for the welfare of their common country rise, as it were, on the wings of one breath, and soar to heaven ; angels will be waiting at the portals of the skies to bear them to the footstools of the great white throne. God will hear and answer them, and fraternal feeling will revisit this riven land, man will recog- nize again in man his brother, sectional prejudice will pass gradually away, radicalism will be rebuked, and peace and prosperity, harmony and happiness, will crown a national glory and grandeur without a parallel in the annals of ages. CCXVIII. MONUMENT TO HENRY CLAY.— T. F. Maeshall. The friends of Henry Clay meditate the construction of a monument to mark the spot where repose the remains of that frail tenement which once held in his fiery soul. It will be honorable to them, and will form a graceful orna- ment to the green woods which surround the city of which he had himself been so long the living ornament, but it will be useless to him or to his fame. He trusted neither sterling's southern orator. 277 himself nor his fame to mechanical hands or perishable materials. They may lay their pedestals of granite — they may raise their polished columns till they pierce and flout the skies — they may cover their marble pillars all over with the blazonry of his deeds, and trophies of his triumphant genius, and surmount them with images of his form wrought by the cunningest hands — it matters not — he is not there. The prisoned eagle has burst the bars and soared away from strife, and conflict, and calumny. He is not dead — he lives. I mean not the life eternal in yon other world of which religion teaches ; but here on earth he lives the life which men call fame — that life the hope of which forms the solace of high ambition, which sheers and sustains the brave and wise and good, the champions of truth and human kind, through all their labors — that life is his beyond all chance or change, growing, expansive, quenchless as time and human memory. He needs no statue — he desired none. It was the image of his soul he wished to perpetuate, and he has stamped it himself in lines of flame upon the souls of his countrymen. Not all the marbles of Carrara, fashioned by the sculp- tor's chisel into the mimicry of breathing life, could convey to the senses a likeness so perfect of himself as that which he has left upon the minds of men. He carved his own statue ; he built his own monument. In youth he laid the base broad as his whole country, that it might well sustain the mighty structure he had designed. Heroically through life he labored on the colossal shaft. In 1850, the last year of the first half of the nineteenth century, he prepared the healing measures which bear his name ; and as the capitol, well-proportioned and in perfect keeping with the now finished column, crowned his work, he saw that it was good and durable, sprang to its lofty and commanding summit, and, gazing from that lone height upon a horizon which embraced all coming time, with eternity for his background, and the eyes of the whole world riveted upon his solitary figure, consented there and thus to die. 278 sterling's southern orator. COXIX. INTEMPERANCE OF PARTY.-— William GASTON Intemperance of party, wherever found, will never meet with an advocate in me. It is a most calamitous scourge to our country — the bane of social enjoyment, of individual justice, and of public virtue — unfriendly to the best pursuits of man, his interest, and his duty ; it renders useless or even pernicious the highest endowments of intellect, and the noblest disposition of the soul. But, sir, whatever may be the evil necessarily inherent in its nature, its ravages are the most enormous and desolating when it is seated on the throne of power, and vested with the attributes of rule. I mean not to follow the gentleman over the classic ground of Greece, Carthage, and Rome to refute his theory, and show that not to vehement opposition, but to the abuse of factions and intolerant power, their doom is to be attrib- uted. Nor will I examine some more modern instances of republics whose destruction has the same origin. The thing is no longer matter of discussion ; it has passed into a set- tled truth in the science of political philosophy. One who, on a question of historical deduction, of political theory, is entitled to high respect, has given us an admirable sum- mary of the experience of republics on this interesting inquiry. Mr. Madison says : " By faction, I understand a number of citizens, whether amounting to a majority or minority of the whole, who are united and actuated by some common impulse of passion or of interest, adverse to the rights of other citizens, or to the permanent and aggregate interests of the community. If a faction consists of less than a majority, relief is supplied by the republican prin- ciple, which enables the majority to defeat its sinister views by regular vote. It may clog the administration, it may convulse the society ; but it will be unable to execute and mask its violence under the forms of the constitution. When a majority is included in a faction, the form of popular gov- ernment, on the other hand, enables it to sacrifice to its ruling passion or interest both the public good and the rights of other citizens. To secure the public good and private rights against the dangers of such a faction, and, at the same time, to preserve the spirit and form of popular sterling's southern orator. 279 government, is, then, the great object to which our inquiries are directed." If this doctrine were, then, to be collected from the history of the world, can it be doubted, since the experience of the last twenty-five years ? Go to France, once revolutionary, now imperial France, and ask her whe- ther factious power or intemperate opposition be the more fatal to freedom and happiness ? Perhaps, at some moment when the eagle eye of her master is turned away, she may whisper to you to behold the demolition of Lyons or the devastation of La Vendee. Perhaps she will give you a written answer. Draw near to the once fatal lamp-post, and by its flickering light read it as traced in characters of blood that flowed from the guillotine : " Faction is a demon ! faction out of power is a demon enchained ! faction vested with the attributes of rule is a Moloch of destruction !" ccxx. ADAMS AND JEFFERSON.— J. Story. Yes, Adams and Jefferson are gone from us forever — gone, as a sunbeam to revisit its native skies — gone, as this mortal to put on immortality. Of them, of each of them, every American may exclaim : " Ne'er to the chambers where the mighty rest, Since their foundation came a nobler guest, Nor e'er was to the bowers of bliss conveyed A fairer spirit or more welcome shade." We may not mourn over the departure of such men. We should rather hail it as a kind dispensation of Providence, to affect our hearts with new and livelier gratitude. They were not cut off in the blossom of their days, while yet the vigor of manhood flushed their cheeks, and the harvest of glory was ungathered. They fell not as martyrs fall, seeing only in dim perspective the salvation of their country. They lived to enjoy the blessings earned by their labors, and to realize all their fondest hopes had desired. The in- firmities of life stole slowly and silently upon them, leaving still behind a cheerful serenity of mind. In peace, in the bosom of alfection, in the hallowed reverence of their coun- 280 sterling's southern orator. trymen, in the full possession of their faculties, they wore out the last remains of life, without a fear to cloud, with scarcely a sorrow to disturb its close. The joyful day of our jubilee came over them with its refreshing influence. To them, indeed, it was u a great and good day." The morning sun shone with softened lustre on their closing eyes. Its evening beams played lightly on their brows, calm in the dignity of death. Their spirits escaped from these frail tenements without a struggle or a groan. Their death was gentle as an infant's sleep. It was a long, linger- ing twilight, melting into the softest shade. Fortunate men, so to have lived, and so to have died. Fortunate, to have gone hand in hand in the deeds of the revolution. Fortunate, in the generous rivalry of middle life. Fortunate, in deserving and receiving the highest honors of their country. Fortunate, in old age to have rekindled their ancient friendship with a holier flame. Fortunate, to have passed through the dark valley of the shadow of death together. Fortunate, to be indissolubly united in the memory and affections of their countrymen. Fortunate, above all, in an immortality of virtuous fame, on which history may with severe simplicity write the dying encomium of Pericles, " No citizen, through their means, ever put on mourning." CCXXI. RETRIBUTIVE JUSTICE.— T. Corwin. I have read much and read somewhat of this gentleman Terminus. Alexander was a devotee of this divinity. We have seen the end of him and his empire. It was said to be an attribute of this god that he must always advance and never recede. So both republican and imperial Rome be- lieved. It was, as they said, " their destiny." And indeed for a while it seemed even so. Roman Terminus did ad- vance. Under the eagles of Rome he was carried from his home on the Tiber to the furthest east, on the one hand, and to the far west, among the then barbarous tribes of western Europe, on the other. But at length the time came when sterling's southern orator. 281 retributive justice had become a " destiny. 5 ' The despised Gaul calls out to the contemned Goth, and Attila, with his Huns, answers back the battle-shout to both. The a blue- eyed nations of the North," in succession or united, pour forth their countless hosts of warriors upon Rome and Rome's advancing god, Terminus. And where now is she, the " Mistress of the world" ? The spider weaves his web in her palaces, the owl sings his watch-song in her towers ! Teutonic power now lords it over the servile remnant, the miserable memento of old and once omnipotent Rome ! Sad, very sad, are the lessons which Time has written for us. Through and in them all I see nothing but the inflexible execution of that old law which ordains as eternal that cardinal rule, " Thou shalt not covet they neighbor's goods, nor any thing which is his f Since I have lately heard so much about the dismemberment of Mexico, I have looked back to see how, in the course of events, which we call " Providence," it has fared with other nations who engaged in this work of dismemberment. I see that, in the latter half of the eighteenth century, three powerful nations, Russia, Austria, and Prussia, united in the dismemberment of Po- land. They said, too, as you say, " It is our destiny." They wanted " room." Doubtless each of these thought, with his share of Poland, his power was too strong ever to fear in- vasion or even insult. Did they remain untouched and in- capable of harm ? Alas, no ! Far, very far from it. Re- tributive justice must fulfil its destiny too. A very few years pass off, and we hear of a new man, a Corsican lieu- tenant, the self-named " armed soldier of democracy" — Napo- leon. He ravages Austria, covers her land with blood, drives the northern Caesar from his capital, and sleeps in his palace. Austria may now remember how her power trampled upon Poland. But has Prussia no atonement to make ? You see this same Napoleon, the blind instrument of Providence, at work there. The thunders of his can- non at Jena proclaim the work of retribution for Poland's wrongs ; and the successors of the Great Frederick, the drill-sergeant of Europe, are seen flying across the sandy plain that surrounds their capital, right glad if they may escape captivity or death. But how fires it with the Auto- crat of Russia? Is he secure in his share of the spoils ot Poland? No. Suddenly we«see six hundred thousand armed men inarching to Moscow. Blood, slaughter, and 282 sterling's southern orator. desolation spread abroad over the land, and finally the con- flagration of the old commercial metropolis of Russia closes the retribution she must pay for her share in the dismember- ment of her weak and impotent neighbor. A mind prone to look for the judgment of Heaven in the doings of men cannot fail to see in Napoleon's march to Moscow the providence of God. When Moscow burned, it seemed as if the earth was lighted up, that the nations might behold the scene. As that mighty sea of fire gathered, and heaved and rolled upward, higher and yet higher, till its flames licked the stars, and fired the whole heavens, it did seem as though the God of the nations was writing, in characters of flame, on the front of His throne, that doom which shall fall upon the strong nation who tramples in scorn upon the weak. And what fortune awaits him, the appointed executor of this work, when it was all done ? He too conceived the notion that " his destiny" pointed onward to universal dominion. France was too small. Europe, he thought, should bow down before him. But as soon as this idea took possession of his soul, he too become powerless. His Terminus must recede too. Right there, while he wit- nessed the humiliation, and doubtless meditated the subjuga- tion of Russia, He who holds the winds in His fist gathered the snows of the North and blew them upon his six hundred thousand men. They fled — they froze — they perished ! And now the mighty Napoleon, who had resolved on universal dominion, he too is summoned to answer for the violation of that ancient law, " Thou shalt not covet any thing which is thy neighbor's." How is the mighty fallen ! He, beneath whose proud footstep Europe trembled, is now an exile at Elba, and finally a prisoner on the rock of Saint Helena ; and there, on a barren island, in an unfrequented sea, in the crater of an extinguished volcano, there is the death-bed of the mighty conqueror ! All his " annexations" have come to this. His last hour is now come ; and he, the " man of destiny," he who had rocked the world as with the throes of an earthquake, is now powerless — still. Even as the beggar, so he died. On the wings of a tempest that raged with unwonted fury, up to the throne of the only Power that controlled him while he lived, went the fiery soul of that wonderful warrior, another witness to the existence of that eternal decree, that they who do not rule in righteous- ness shall perish from the earth. He has found "rooin" sterling's southern orator. 283 at last. And France, too, she has found " room." Her ct eagles" now no longer scream along the banks of the Dan- ube, the Po, and flhe Boristhenes. They have returned home, to their old eyrie, between the Alps, the Rhine, and the Pyrenees. CCXXII. THE SOUTH— 1850.— Jefferson Davis. The son of a revolutionary soldier, attachment to this Union was among the first lessons of my childhood. Bred to the service of my country, from boyhood to mature age I wore its uniform. Through the brightest portion of my life I was accustomed to see our flag, historic emblem of the Union, rise with the rising and fall with the setting sun. I look upon it now with the affection of early love, and seek to maintain and preserve it by a strict adherence to the Constitution from which it had its birth, and by the nurture of which its stars have come so much to outnumber its orig- inal stripes. Shall that flag, which has gathered fresh glory in every war, and become more radiant still by the con- quest of peace — shall that flag now be torn by domestic fac- tion, and trodden in the dust by petty sectional rivalry ? Shall we of the South who have shared equally with you all your toils, all your dangers, all your adversities, and who equally rejoice in your prosperity and your fame, shall we be denied those benefits guaranteed by our compact, or gathered as the common fruits of a common country ? If so, self-respect requires that we should assert them, and, as best we may, maintain that which we could not surrender without losing your respect as well as our own. If, sir, this spirit of sectional aggrandizement shall cause the disunion of these States, the last chapter of our history will be a sad commentary upon the justice and the wisdom of our people. That this Union, replete with blessings to its own citizens, and diffusive of hope to the rest of mankind, should fall a victim to a selfish aggrandizement and a pseudo- philanthropy, prompting one portion of the Union to war upon the domestic rights and peace of another, would be a deep reflection on the good sense and patriotism of our day and generation. 284 sterling's southern orator. Sir, I ask Northern senators to make the case their own ; to carry to their own fireside the idea of such intrusion and offensive discrimination as is offered t weave bright garlands in my careless child- hood's hours : 18 410 STERLING'S SOUTHERN" ORATOR. Oft she laughed and answered gayly : " In our land you've learned to twine Sunbeam wreaths, and round my spirit may they never cease to shine — Lead me where thou wilt, my only, where thy home is, shall T>e mine." IX. Now my home is in her country — I will hasten back again, She alone can give me pleasure, she alone can soothe my pain : Change has broken, rudely broken, mem'ry's sweet and holy i . spell — There are dirges on the night winds, in my heart there sounds a knell ; Hark ! there spoke a mocking spirit, " Twelve o'clock, and : all is well." CCCXIII. DREAMS OP MY CHILDHOOD.— Anonymous. Dreams of my childhood that from me have fled, And left me alone in this visionless life, Take with you, too, the pale forms of your dead, CNTo memories leave to embitter the strife : Dream-land! in thee I must wander no more ! Tade from my soul to Oblivion again ! Leave me to struggle on Life's dreary shore, Till death bears me on to the main. Are the soft airs awakened that so long have slept ? Whence are these whispers so pensive and low ? They start the warm tears that once happiness wept, They soften my soul to a passionate glow : Far away from the dwellings of cold-hearted men Let me wander once more to the glade, Where the rose- light of Fancy may sparkle again O'er the heart that is drooping in shade. sterling's southern orator. 411 Hark to the stream with its ripples at play ! • Hark to the whispering trees ! They weave tjieir low song through the long, sunny day, And murmur it soft to the breeze ; The sunbeams are dancing o'er leaf and o'er flower, The 4ew-drops are sparkling in light, The clouds which but darkened the morning an hour Are melting away from the sight. The insects are humming, the forest is gay As it echoes the carol of birds, Who pour out their thanks for the bright summer day In a song too enchanting for words ; The voices of waters, the murmur of bees, The flowers, and the soft sunny light, Have floated away like a song on the breeze, Or the day fading into the night. Visions of youth ! say why have ye come ? Why have ye wakened this sad heart to pain ? Brought ye the light but to deepen the gloom ? Waked ye lost joys to recall them again? Dreams of my childhood, that from me have fled, Leave me to toil on Life's desolate shore — Take with you, too, the cold forms of your dead, Bring back the visions of youth — never more. cccxiv. ITALY r — Edwaud Choat Pinkkey. Know'st thou the land which lovers ought to choose ? Like blessings there descend the sparkling dews, In gleaming streams the crystal rivers run, The purple vintage clusters in the sun ; Odors of flowers haunt the balmy breeze, Rich fruits hang high upon the verdant trees ; And vivid blossoms gem the shady groves, Where bright-plumed birds discourse their careless loves. Beloved ! speed we from this sullen strand Until thy light feet touch that green shore's yellow sand. 412 sterling's southern orator. Look seaward thence, and naught shall meet thine eye But fairy isles like paintings on the sky ; And flying fast and free before the gale, m The gaudy vessel with its glancing sail ; And waters glittering in the glare of noon, Or touched with silver by the stars and moon, Or flecked with broken lines of crimson light, When the far fisher's fire affronts the night. Lovely as loved ! toward that smiling shore Bear we our household gods to fix for evermore. It looks a dimple on the face of earth, The seal of beauty and the shrine of mirth, Nature is delicate and graceful there, The place's genius feminine and fair : The winds are awed, nor dare to breathe aloud, The air seems never to have borne a cloud, Save where volcanoes send to heaven their curled And solemn smokes, like altars of the world. Thrice beautiful ! to that delightful spot Carry our married hearts, and be all pain forgot. There Art, too, showers, when Nature's beauty palls, Her sculptured marbles and her pictured walls ; And there are forms in which they both conspire To whisper themes that know not how to tire ; The speaking ruins in that gentle clime Have but been hallowed by the hand of time, And each can mutely prompt some thought of flame — The meanest stone is not without a name Then come, beloved ! hasten o'er the sea To build our happy hearth in blooming Italy. cccxv. SONG OF THE STARS.— W. C. Bryant. When the radiant morn of creation broke, And the world in the smile of God awoke, And the empty realms of darkness and death Were moved through their depths by His mighty breath, sterling's southern orator. 413 And orbs of beauty and spheres of flame Froip. the void abyss by myriads came, In the joy of youth, as they ^arted away Through the widening wastes of space to play, Their silver voices in chorus rang ; And this was the song the bright ones sang : " Away, away ! through the wide, wide sky — The fair blue fields that before us lie — Each sun, with the worlds that round us roll, Each planet, poised on her turning pole, With her isles of green, and her clouds of white, And her waters that lie like fluid light. " For the Source of glory uncovers his face, And the brightness o'erflows unbounded space ; And we drink, as we go, the luminous tides In our ruddy air and our blooming sides. Lo ! yonder the living splendors play : Away, on our joyous path away ! " Look, look ! through our glittering ranks afar, In the infinite azure, star after star, How they brighten and bloom as they swiftly pass ! How the verdure runs o'er each rolling mass ! And the path of the gentle winds is seen, Where the small waves dance, and the young woods lean, " And see, where the brighter day-beams pour, How the rainbows hang in the sunny shower ; And the morn and the eve, with their pomp and hues, Shift o'er the bright planets, and shed their dews ; And, 'twixt them both, o'er the teeming ground, With her shadowy cone, the night goes round. c< Away, away ! — in our blossoming bowers, In the soft air wrapping these spheres of ours, In the seas and fountains that shine with morn, See, love is brooding, and life is born, And breathing myriads are breaking from night, To rejoice, like us, in motion and light. 414 sterling's southern orator. " Glide on in your beauty, ye youthful spheres, To weave the dance that measures the years : Glide on, in the glory and gladness sent To the furthest wall of the firmament — The boundless visible smile of Him, To the veil of whose brow our lamps are dim." cccxvi. THE MOTHER OF WASHINGTON.— Mrs. Sigottcney. Long hast thou slept unnoted ! Nature stole In her soft ministry around thy bed, And spread her velvet coverings, violet-gemmed, And pearled with dews. She bade bright Summer bring Gifts of frankincense, with sweet song of birds; And Autumn cast his yellow coronet Down at thy feet ; and stormy Winter speak Hoarsely of man's neglect. But now we come To do thee homage, mother of our chief ! Fit homage — such as honoreth him who pays. Methinks we see thee, as in olden time — Simple in garb, majestic and serene, Una wed by " pomp and circumstance," in truth Inflexible, and with a Spartan zeal Repressing Vice, and making Folly grave. Thou didst not deem it woman's part to waste Life in inglorious sloth, to sport awhile Amid the; flowers or on the summer wave, Then fleet like the epbemeron away — Building no temple in her children's hearts, Save to the vanity and pride of life, Which she had worshipped. Of the might that clothed The " Patpr Patriae" — of the deeds that won, A nation's liberty and earth's applause, sterling's southern orator. 415 Making Mount Vernon's tomb a Mecca haunt For patriot and for sage while time shall last — What part was thine, what thanks to thee are due, Who, 'mid his elements of being, wrought With no uncertain aim — nursing the germs Of godlike virtue in his infant mind ? We know not-^Heaven can tell ! Rise, noble pile, And show a race unborn who rests below ; And say to mothers* what a holy charge Is theirs— -with what a kingly power their love Might rule the fountains of the new-born mind ; Warn them to wake at early dawn, and sow Good seed before the world doth sow its tares — Nor in their toil decline — that angel hands May put the sickle in, and reap for God, And gather to His garner. Te, who stand, With thrilling breast and kindling cheek, this morn, Viewing the tribute that Virginia pays To the blest mother of her glorious chief; Ye, w^hose last thought upon your nightly couch, Whose first at waking, is your cradled son — What though no dazzling hope aspires to rear A second Washington — or leave your name Wrought out in marble with your country's tears Of deathless gratitude ; yet may ye raise A monument above the stars — a soul Led by your teachings and your prayers to God. CCCXVII, ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA.— Gen. W. H. Lytle. I am dying, Egypt, dying, Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast, And the dark Plutonian shadows Gather on the evening blast. 416 sterling's southern orator. Let thine arm, O Queen ! support m Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear — Hearken to the great heart secrets Thou, and thou alone, must hear. Though my scarred and veteran legions Bear their eagles high no more, Though my wrecked and scattered galleys Strew dark Actium's fatal shore, Though no glittering guards surround me Prompt to do their master's will, I must perish like a Roman, Die the great Triumvir still. Let not Caesar's servile minions Mock the lion thus laid low ; 5 Twas no foeman's hand that felled him, 'Twas his own that struck the blow. Dead ! then pillow on thy bosom, Ere his star shall lose its ray, Him who, drunk with thy caresses, Madly flung a world away. Should the base plebeian rabble Dare assail my fame at Rome, Where the noble spouse Octavia Keeps within her widowed home, Seek her ; say the gods have told me — Altars — augurs — circling wings— That her blood, with mine commingled, Yet shall mount the throne of kings. And for thee, star-eyed Egyptian, Glorious sorceress of the Nile, Light the path to Stygian horrors With the splendors of thy smile ; Give the Caesar crowns and arches, Let his brow the laurel twine — I can scorn the Senate's triumph Triumphing in love like thine. Ti A . I am dying, Egypt, dying — Hark ! the insulting foeman's cry. sterling's southern orator. 417 They are coming ! quick ! my falchion ! Let me front them ere I die ! Ah, no more amid the battle Shall my heart exulting swell ! Isis and Osiris guard thee, Cleopatra! Rome! farewell! | CCCXVIII. HUGH MILLER.— St. George Tucker. Oh, 'tis a noble sight to see the mint! Rending the iron fetters that would bind — Like Samson, straining every nerve to be A victim with his conquerors, or free ! Read the sad story of Cromarty's son Who perished e'er his glorious race was run : 'Twas his to vindicate the heavenly word, And turn on error's self her boasted sword ; To bring to man, like Moses from the mount, Tables of stone, and read their strange account, And find upon the granite and the clod The footprints of the true and only God. 'Tis thus, though error, like the cloud of even, May for a moment veil the face of heaven, At length, illumined, by the radiance pure, It gilds the glory that it would obscure. No need of storied monument or bust To tell where sleeps the noble Miller's dust ; A prouder stone perpetuates his name, A nobler epitaph records his fame ; Where'er the rocky volume spreads its page, Or fossil letters teach the world her age, Where'er the sea has left her trail of shells, Or proud Geology her story tells, Fair Science finds his name upon the stone, And proudly points to Miller as her son. 418 sterling's southern orator. Then tell me not that he is only great Who rides the battle or who rules the state ; Science presents a chaplet purer far Than civic crown or laurel wreath of war. He, who to man's advancement bends his mind, And is the benefactor of his kind, Builds for himself a more exalted fame, And myriads bless who do not know his name. cccxix. DEATH OF DR. E. K. KANE.— John Esten Cooke. Wha*t plumes are these ? Sad mourners sweeping like the wings of night Over the dark waves of the wide Balize, . Where the great waters sink into the main? What wail of pain Strikes the bent ear — what sombre sight Looms on the waters, where the ocean breeze Ripples the sad, deep seas? Well, rest is sweet ! The low drums beat, The waters waft their burden to the shore : The sobs and echoing feet Of thousands mingle with the cannon's roar : But he is still — his victories are o'er, The still white face will fill with joyous pride no more ! So, take our sailor ! 'Twas a bitter cup Held to his lips by One who rules us all, Thus in the flush of youth and fame to fall. Hear the low moan of muffled drums ! And bugles wailing in the ears of night ! This is Elisha Kane, Victor in more than human wars, The noblest of our noble tars, The young, bright champion who, not in vain, Nor led by sordid gain, But kindling with heroic pride And calm disdain Of danger, when a brother sailor called, ■ Braved the stern winter unappalled — sterling's southern orator. 419 Vexed with his keel the far mysterious main, The Arctic wide — To come at last, his conflicts o'er, His labor done, A wounded hero to the Southern shore, Where, calm as sinks the splendid tropic sun, He in his glory died ! And thus the hero comes With the deep thunder of the muffled drums — Thus under ebon plumes, Dim plumes that sweep Like vultures fluttering o'er a place of tombs, Sleeping his final sleep — Thus is it that the bravest of our tars Comes sailing from the deep ! So ! let the muffled drums Herald the warrior as he comes ! The wild, sad bugles chaunt a nation's loss ! The loss of one who on the Spanish plain As in the dark floes of the Northern main Was ever foremost in his country's wars ! A nation's loss ! The loss of one who, after cruel pain, After he bore our banner to the stars, Under the chill Bear and the glittering Wain, Came, fainting in the conflict, to lie down — A warrior overthrown — Beneath the bright stars of the Southern Cross ! cccxx. DEITY.— So. Lit. Messenger. Pause, O mortal pilgrim ! pressing with restless footsteps Onward through light and shadow, unknowing aught of thy journey — Pause to contemplate the glory of Him, Supreme and Om- niscient, Whose works declare Him Creator; whose goodness de- clares Him Father. Sweet as the dews of Hermon is the thought of heaven and angels, 420 sterling's southern orator. Communings with the unseen are the oases of life's desert. Ere He leaned o'er the void of chaos with mighty hand up- lifted, And showered like drops of amber the worlds down the in- finite spaces, Thy soul in His thought existed, His will ordained thy being, And ages smiled through the silence and echoed in music, The Father ! But a drop to the mighty ocean, a star to worlds unnum- bered, A rose to a boundless Eden, is our knowledge of Him, the Eternal. He hath written His name on each sunbeam, on cloud and rainbow and blossom, And the voice of the wave and zephyr murmur its music forever. like the sweets of the scented lily inwove with its fragrant whiteness, Or the radiant gleam of jewels that clings to each scattered fragment, His Spirit pervades all nature, its life and inseparate essence. As the heaven stretcheth about us its tent of delicate azure From the verge of the misty horizon to fathomless depths of ether, Thus ever above and beyond us, yet bending down to our weakness, Enfolding us all in its beauty, is His calm, unsearchable Presence ! As the sunlight turns for our footsteps the dust to a visible glory, Twines buds on the thorny hedges, and gems with the showering rain-drops , Even so, to each trusting spirit, the manifest love of the Father Wakes blossoms for life's drearer deserts, and edges with gold the shadows, And turns the tears of sorrow to beauteous pearls immortal. None watcheth the changes of Nature without some meas- ure of worship — Even the delicate snow -flake, on. the page of its dainty whiteness, Bears record of God as surely as the shine of ancient Arctu- rus. stealing's southern orator. 421 The heart observant of beauty yields tribute by contempla- tion, And the lip that praiseth the daisy unconscious hath blessed its Maker. In the bl^sh of rosy morning, when she leans with her yel- low tresses Down o'er the brow of the mountain, and twines their gold with the shadows ; In the deepened glory of noontide when calm pervadeth all nature, And Earth, like a child aweary, seems dreaming amid her flowers ; When Day with her fading roses lies dead in the arms of Twilight, While shadows gather like mourners, and stars throng swift like angels ; In the solemn hush of the midnight, through changes of time or season, Let thy soul acknowledge His presence who rules in the heaven of heavens. Majestic beyond all language are His visible works and wonders ; Yet these are the alphabet only to the volume Jehovah hath written. Pause then, O mortal nilgrim. ! let thy spirit adore Him un- ceasing — Let it lie with the daisies in meekness, yet soar to the Throne in devotion. Praise for His infinite Wisdom that teacheth all ages know- ledge — Praise for His Will Supreme that guideth the star and the rose-leaf; Praise for His wondrous Omniscience that readeth the soul's recesses, Its doubt, and sin, and sorrow ; its pain and voiceless con- trition ; Praise for His boundless Compassion that clasps a world to His bosom- ■ Praise for His love unfathomed that knows no shadow of turning — Praise for the grandeur of Being, in that thou art made in His linage ! 422 sterling's southern orator cccxxi. THE WAYSIDE CROSS ON THE ALPS.— W. T. Wallis. On the Swiss mountains — when I wandered there — In the wild, awful passes all alone, A little cross of iron, cold and bare, Rose oft, before me, from some wayside stone. Strange, uncouth names they bore — a holy sign Traced by rude hands upon a rustic scroll, And, blotted by the snows, a piteous line, Begging our prayers for the poor sleeper's soul. Some traveller it was, perchance, whose doom The torrent or the avalanche had sped ; Mayhap was buried there some peasant, w T hom The hunted chamois o'er the cliff had led ; His simple thoughts had never crossed the sea, From whose far borders to his grave I came : Yet, as a brother, called he unto me, And my heart's echo gave him back the name ! Peace to thy spirit, Brother ! I had felt The quick'ning of the blood that wanderers feel At thought of home and country. I had knelt At altars where the nations came to kneel ; But knew I never in its depth — till when Thy lonely shrine besought me for my prayer — The sense of kindred with all sons of men — One love, one hope, God's pity everywhere ! Thus from its scroll, thou gentle Christmas-tide, Thy cross— uplifted o'er the wastes of time — Speaks to earth's pilgrims, in His name who died, Good- will and peace and brotherhood sublime ! And, unto them that hail thee, chiefly worth Are the glad wreaths thou twinest round the year,' For that thou bidd'st our human hearts go forth, .. Wherever love can warm or kindness cheer. Up the bleak heights of daily tdil we press, Too busy with our journey and our load, STERLING'S SOUTHEKtf ORATOR. 423 To heed the lmrried grasp, the brief caress, The brother fainting on that weary road. Then, welcome be the hours and thoughts and things, That win us from ourselves a little while, To that sweet human fellowship, which brings The only human joy unstained of guile ! CCCXXII. SPRING TIME.— By Rev. John C. M'Cabe. There's dew on the leaf and bright stars in the sky, And the winds woo the sweet bursting flowers ; The May moon looks forth with a half-dreaming eye On this beautiful green earth of ours. The music of waves gently breaks on the ear, And the night bird hymns softly his strain To his wild serenade to his mistress so dear, And sweet echo repeats it again. 5 Tis morn ; and the breeze down the valley is heard, As it wanders the flowers among ; The hedge seeems alive as bird answers to bird, In gushes of beautiful song. The forest looks glad, as the tall nodding trees, Like an army of Robin Hood's men, With Lincoln green coats, wave their arms to the breeze, And whisper, " Sweet Spring's come again !" It has come ! In its smiles see all nature rejoice ! It has come ! on the flower-gemmed hill Its footsteps are heard, and its musical voice May be caught in the murmuring rill. It has come ! o'er the earth waves its glorious wing ! And Thy name, Gracious Father, we praise, That the beauty, the gladness, the brightness of spring Are rich blessings to gladden our days. But spring time is transient — the summer's hot breath Will dry up the rivulet's flow ; 424 sterling's southern orator. And autumn will follow, that season of death To forest and flowers that blow ; And dirge-chaunting winter above them shall moan, As she wraps them in shrouds cold and white, And the winds sing their requiem in low mournful tone, As they march through the valleys by night. But that sleep shall be broken ! bright spring shall again Gently breathe o'er the slumberer's dream ; Her voice shall break forth from the hill and the plain, And be heard in the song of the stream. jSo the righteous may slumber — God watches their dust, O'er their cold graves the tempests may break, Yet their sleep is the sleep of the holy and just, And they shall in beauty awake ! CCCXXIII. MY HOME IS THE WORLD.— Thomas H. Bayly. Speed, speed, my fleet vessel ! the shore is in sight, The breezes are fair, we shall anchor to-night. To-morrow, at sunrise, once more I shall stand On the sea-beaten shore of my dear native land. Ah ! why does despondency weigh down my heart ? Such thoughts are for friends who reluctantly part ; I come from an exile of twenty long years — Yet I gaze on my country through fast falling tears. I see the hills purple with bells of the heath, And my own happy valley that nestles beneath, And the fragrant white blossoms spread over the thorn That grows near the cottage in which I was born. It cannot be changed — no, the clematis climbs O'er the gay little porch, as it did in old times ; And the seat where my father reclined is still there — But where is my father ? — oh, answer me, where ? sterling's southern orator. 425 My mother's own casement, the chamber she loved, Is there — overlooking the lawn where I roved ; She thoughtfully sat with her hand o'er her brow, As she watched her young darling : ah, where is she now ? And there is my poor sister's garden : how wild Were the innocent sports of that beautiful child ! Her voice had a spell in its musical tone, And her cheeks were like roses : ah, where is she gone ? No father reclines in the clematis seat ! No mother looks forth from the shaded retreat ! No sister is there, stealing slyly away, Till the half-suppressed laughter betrayed where she lay ! How oft in my exile, when kind friends were near, I've slighted their kindness, and sighed to be here ! How oft have I said, " Could I once again see That sweet little valley, how blest should I be !" How blest — oh, it is not a valley like this, That unaided can realize visions of bliss ; For voices I listen ; and then I look round For the light steps that used to trip after the sound. But see ! this green path : I remember it well — 'Tis the way to the church — hark the toll of the bell ! Oh, oft, in my boyhood, a truant I've strayed To yonder dark yew-tree, and slept in its shade. But surely the pathway is narrower now ! No smooth place is left 'neath the dark yew-tree bough ! O'er tablets inscribed with sad records I tread, And the home I have sought — is the home of the dead ! And was it to this I looked forward so long, And shrank from the sweetness of Italy's song ? And turned from the dance of the dark girl of Spain ? And wept for my country again and again ? And was it for this to my casement I crept To gaze on the deep when I dreamed as I slept ? 426 sterling's southern orator. To think of fond meetings, the welcome, the kiss, The friendly hand's pressure ! ah, was it for this ? When those who so long have been absent, return To the scenes of their childhood, it is but to mourn ; Wounds open afresh that time nearly had healed, And the ills of a life at one glance are revealed. Speed, speed, my fleet vessel ! the tempest may rave- There's a calm for my heart in the dash of the wave. Speed, speed, my fleet vessel ! the sails are unfurled ; Oh. ask me not whither — my home is the world ! cccxxiv. PILGRIMAGE OF THE HUGUENOTS FROM FRANCE TO SOUTH-CAROLINA.— W. T. Grayson. Sad the long look the parting exile gave To France receding on the rising wave ! Her daisied meads shall smile for him no more, Her orchards furnish no autumnal store. With memory's eye alone the wanderer sees The vine-clad hills, the old familiar trees, The castled steep, the noon-clay village shade, The trim quaint garden where his childhood played; No more he joins the labor of the fields, Or shares the joy the merry vintage yields ; Gone are the valley homes by sparkling streams, That long shall murmur in the exile's dreams ; And temples where his sires were wont to pray With stern Farel and chivalrous Mornay — Scenes with long-treasured memories richly fraught. Where Sully counselled, where Coligni fought, And Henri's meteor plume in battle shone, A beacon light to victory and a throne. These all are lost, but, smiling in the West, Hope, still alluring, calms the anxious breast, And dimly rising through the landward haze, New forms of beauty court the wistful gaze : .sterling's southern orator. 427 The level line of strand that brightly shines Between the rippling waves and dusky pines ; A shelving beach that sandy hillocks bound, With clumps of palm and fragrant myrtle crowned ; Low shores with margins broad of marshy green, Bright winding streams the grassy wastes between ; Wood-crested islands that o'erlook the main Like dark hills rising on a verdant plain ; Trees of new beauty, climbing to the skies, With various verdure, meet his wondering eyes ; Gigantic oaks, the monarchs of the wood, Whose stooping branches sweep the rising flood, And, robed in solemn draperies of moss, To stormy winds their proud defiance toss ; Magnolias bright with glossy leaves and flowers, Fragrant as Eden in its happiest hours ; The gloomy cypress towering to the skies, The maple loveliest in autumnal dyes, The palm armorial with its tufted head, Vines over all in wide luxuriance spread, And columned pines, a mystic wood, he sees, That sigh and whisper to the passing breeze. cccxxv. GREECE.— Estelle A. Lewis. Shrine of the gods ! mine own eternal Greece, When shall thy weeds be doffed — thy mourning cease ? Thy gyves that bind thy beauty rent in twain, And thou be living, breathing Greece again ? Grave of the mighty ! hero, poet, sage, Whose deeds are guiding stars to every age ! Land unsurpassed in glory or despair, Still in thy desolation thou art fair. Low in sepulchral dust lies Pallas' shrine, Low in sepulchral dust thy fanes divine, And all thy visible self: yet o'er thy clay Soul beauty lingers, hallowing decay. 428 sterling's southern orator. Not all the ills that war entailed on thee, Not all the blood that stained Thermopylae, Not all the desolation traitors wrought, Not all the woe and want invaders brought, Not all the tears that slavery could wring From out thy heart of patient suffering, Not all that drapes thy loveliness in night, Can quench thy spirit's never-dying light ; But, hovering o'er the last of gods enshrined, It beams a beacon to the march of mind, An oasis to sage and bard forlorn, A guiding star to centuries unborn. For thee I mourn — thy blood is in my veins — To thee by consanguinity's strong chains I'm bound, and fain would die to make thee free; But, oh, there is no liberty for thee ! Not all the wisdom of thy greatest one, Not all the bravery of Thetis' proud son, Not all the weight of Phoebus' ire, Not all the magic of the Athenian's lyre, Can ever bid thy tears or mourning cease, Or rend one gyve that binds thee, lovely Greece. Where Corinth weeps beside Lepanto's deep, Her palaces in desolation sleep, Seated till dawn on moonlit columns, I Have sought to probe eternal Destiny ! I've roamed, fair Hellas, o'er thy battle-plains, And stood within Apollo's ruined fanes, Invoked the spirits of the past to wake, Assist with swords of fire thy chains to break ; But only from the hollow sepulchres, Murmured, " Eternal slavery is hers !" And on thy bosom I have laid my head And poured my soul out — tears of lava shed ; Before thy desecrated altars knelt, To calmer feelings felt my sorrows melt, And gladly with thee would have made my home; But pride and hate impelled me o'er the foam, To distant lands and seas unknown to roam. sterling's southern orator. 429 CCCXXVI. CHARACTER OF HENRY CLAY.— J. R. Underwood. Mr. President, I have availed myself of Doctor Johnson's paraphrase of the epitaph on Thomas Harmer, with a few al- terations and additions, to express in borrowed verse my ad- miration for the life and character of Mr. Clay, and, with this heart-tribute to the memory of my illustrious colleague, I conclude my remarks : Born when Freedom her stripes and stars unfurled, When Revolution shook the startled world — Heroes and sages taught his brilliant mind To know and love the rights of all mankind. " In life's first bloom his public toils began, At once commenced the senator and man ; In business dext'rous, weighty in debate, Near fifty years he labored for the state. In every speech persuasive wisdom flowed, In every act refulgent virtue glowed ; Suspended faction ceased from rage and strife, To hear his eloquence and praise his life. Resistless merit fixed the members' choice, Who hailed him Speaker with united voice." His talents ripening with advancing years, His wisdom growing with his public cares ; A chosen envoy, war's dark horrors cease, The tides of carnage turn to streams of peace; Conflicting principles, internal strife, Tariff and slavery, disunion rife, All are compromised by his great hand, And beams of joy illuminate the land: Patriot, Christian, husband, father, friend, Thy work of life achieved a glorious end ! 430 sterling's southern orator. cccxxvii. THE WANTS OF MAN.— J. Q. Adams. :,i Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long ;" 'Tis not with me exactly so, But 'tis so in the song. My wants are many, and, if told, Would muster many a score ; And were each wish a mint of gold, I still should long for more. What first I want is daily bread, And canvass-backs and wine ; And all the realms of nature spread Before me when I dine. Four courses scarcely can provide My appetite to quell, With four choice cooks from France, beside, To dress my dinner well. What next I want, at heavy cost, Is elegant attire : Black sable furs for winter's frost, And silks for summer's fire, And cashmere shawls, and Brussels lace My bosom's front to deck, And diamond rings my hands to grace, And rubies for my neck. And then I want a mansion fair, A dwelling-house, in style, Four stories high, for wholesome air — A massive marble pile ; With halls for banquets and for balls, All furnished rich and fine ; With stabled studs in fifty stalls, And cellars for my wine. sterling's southern orator. 431 I want a garden and a park, My dwelling to surround — A thousand acres, (bless the mark !) With walls encompassed round — Where flocks may range and herds may low, And kids and lambkins play, And flowers and fruits commingled grow, All Eden to display. • I want, when summer's foliage falls, And autumn strips the trees, A house within the city's walls, For comfort and for ease. But here, as space is somewhat scant, And acres somewhat rare, My house in town I only want To occupy — a square. I want a steward, butler, cooks, A coachman, footman, grooms, A library of well-bound books, And picture-garnished rooms ; Correggios, Magdalen, and Night, The matron of the chair ; Guido's fleet coursers in their flight, And Claudes at least a pair. I want a cabinet profuse Of medals, coins, and gems ; A printing-press, for private use, Of fifty thousand ems ; And plants, and minerals, and shells ! Worms, insects, fishes, birds ! And every beast on earth that dwells, In solitude or herds. 432 sterling's southern orator. cccxxviii. THE SAME— Continued. I wantt a board of burnished plate, Of silver and of gold ! Tureens of twenty pounds in weight, With sculpture's richest mould ; Plateaus, with chandeliers and lamps, Plates, dishes — all the same ; And porcelain vases, with the stamps Of Sevres, Angouleme, And maples, of fair glossy stain, Must form my chamber doors, And carpets of the Wilton grain Must cover all my floor ; My walls, with tapestry bedecked, Must never be outdone ; And damask curtains must protect Their colors from the sun. And mirrors of the largest pane From Venice must be brought ; And sandal-wood, and bamboo cane, For chains and tables bought : On all the mantel-pieces, clocks Of thrice-gilt bronze must stand, And screens of ebony and box Invite the stranger's hand. I want (who does not want ?) a wife, Affectionate and fair, To solace all the woes of life, And all its joys to share ; Of temper sweet, of yielding will, Of firm yet placid mind, With all my faults to love me still, With sentiment refined. sterling's southern orator. 433 And as Time's car incessant runs, And Fortune fills my store, I want of daughters and of sons From eight to half a score ; I want (alas ! can mortal dare Such bliss on earth to crave ?) That all the girls be chaste and fair — The boys, all wise and brave. And when my bosom's darling sings, With melody divine, A pedal harp of many strings Must with her voice combine. A piano exquisitely wrought Must open stand, apart, That all my daughters may be taught To win the stranger's heart. My wife and daughters will desire Refreshment from perfumes, Cosmetics for the skin require, And artificial blooms. The civet fragrance shall dispense And treasured sweets return ; Cologne revive the flagging sense, And smoking amber burn. And when at night my weary head Begins to droop and doze, A southern chamber holds my bed, For nature's soft repose ; With blankets, counterpanes, and sheet, Mattress, and bed of down, And comfortables for my feet, And pillows for my crown. 19 434: sterling's southern orator, cccxxix. THE SAME— Continued. I want a warm and faithful friend To cheer the adverse hour, Who ne'er to flatter will descend, Or bend the knee to power ; A friend to chide me when I'm wrong, My inmost soul to see ; And that my friendship prove as strong For him as his for me. I want a kind and tender heart, For others' wants to feel ; A soul secure from fortune's dart, And bosom armed with steel ; To bear divine chastisement's rod, A mingling in my plan, Submission to the will of God With charity to man. I want a keen, observing eye, An ever-listening ear, The truth through each disguise to spy, And wisdom's voice to hear ; A tongue to speak at virtue's need, In heaven's sublimest strain ; And lips the cause of man to plead, And never plead in vain. I want uninterrupted health Throughout my long career, And streams of never-failing wealth, To scatter far and near ; The destitute to clothe and feed, Free bounty to bestow ; Supply the helpless orphan's need, And soothe the widow's woe. I want the genius to conceive, The talents to unfold, sterling's southern orator. 435 Designs, the vicious to retrieve, The virtuous to uphold ; Inventive power, combining skill, A persevering soul, Of human hearts to mould the will, And reach from pole to pole. I want the seals of power and place, The ensigns of command, Charged by the people's unbought grace To rule my native land. Nor crown nor sceptre would I ask But from my country's will, By day, by night, to ply the task Her cup of bliss to fill. I want the voice of honest praise To follow me behind, And to be thought in future days The friend of human kind; That after ages, as they rise, Exulting may proclaim, In choral union to the skies, • Their blessings on my name. These are the wants of mortal man ; I cannot want them long ; For life itself is but a span And earthly bliss a song. My last great want, absorbing all, Is, when beneath the sod, And summoned to my final call, The mercy of my God. And oh, while circles in my veins Of life the purple stream, And yet a fragment small remains Of nature's transient dream, My soul, in humble hope unscared, Forget not thou to pray That this thy want may be prepared To meet the Judgment Day, 436 sterling's southern orator. ccoxxx. THE MET-TA-WEE*— Emeline S. Smith. Long hours we had journeyed o'er meadow and mountain : The sunbeams were fervid, the way-side was drear ; And our souls felt athirst for some pure, sparkling fountain, Whose wave might refresh, and whose beauty might cheer. Overwearied and faint, in the twilight's soft splendor We happily chanced a lone valley to see, Through whose tranquil breast, like a thought pure and tender, Flowed tunefully onward the bright Met-ta-wee. Oh, never, methinks, a more beautiful vision Appeared to the eyes of the weary and worn! 'Twas a fairy oasis— a spot more Elysian, Than those that 'mid sands of the desert are born. The birds hovering o'er it, poised long on light pinions, Enamored their forms in that mirror to see ; And winds, rushing forth from their mystic dominions, Breathed low as they crept by the calm Met-ta-wee. Cloud-figures, angelic, hung over its bosom ; Tall willows like lovers bent low at its side ; 'Twas kissed o'er and o'er by each rosy-lipped blossom That leaned in mute tenderness down to its tide. How fondly we lingered to gaze on that river! To quaff its pure nectar — for all flowing free — How weariness fled, and how Care's fitful fever Was soothed by the charms of the bright Met-ta-wee. That moment so dear, and that scene so beguiling, Come back oftentimes to my fancy again : I see, o'er the landscape, a soft sunset smiling ; I see the green hills and the flower-vestured plain. * This pretty Indian name is given to a beautiful little stream that traces its devious course through a valley in the northern part of the State of New-York. sterling's southern orator. 437 The pure azure sky and the first star of Even, Beaming o'er me, in holiest beauty I see, And lo ! as I gaze, there's another bright heaven Far down in the breast of the calm Met-ta-wee. Time speeds on his pathway — and still, as he's flying, Our joy-lighted moments he shakes from his glass; But the brightest and dearest emit, while they're dying, A beam that illumines the rest as they pass. These sparks of enjoyment are Memory's treasure ; She hoards them — she keeps them from dark changes free — Oh, long may she cherish the sweet dream of pleasure We dreamed on the banks of the bright Met-ta-wee. cocxxxi. COUSINS.— Winthrop M. Praed. Had you ever a Cousin, Tom ? Did your cousin happen to sing? Sisters we've all by the dozen, Tom, But a cousin's a different thing ; And you'd find, if you ever had kissed her, Tom, (But let this be a secret between us,) That your lips would have been in a blister, Tom, For they are not of the sister genus. There is something, Tom, in a sister's Up, When you give her a good-night kiss, That savors so much of relationship, That nothing occurs amiss ; But a cousin's lip if you once unite With yours, in the quietest way, Instead of sleeping a wink that night, You'll be dreaming the following day. And people think it no harm, Tom, With a cousin to hear you talk; And no one feels any alarm, Tom, At a quiet, cousinly walk ; 438 sterling's southern orator. But, Tom, you'll soon find what I happen to know, That such w r alks often go into straying, And the voices of cousins are sometimes so low, Heaven only knows what you'll be saying ! And then there happened so often, Tom, Soft pressures of hands and fingers, And looks that were moulded to soften, Tom, And tones on which memory lingers ; That long ere the walk is half over, those strings Of your heart are all put in play, By the voice of those fair, demi- sisterly things, In not quite the most brotherly way. And the song of a sister may bring to you, Tom, Such tones as the angels woo, But I fear if your cousin should sing to you, Tom, You'll take her for an angel, too ; For so curious a note is that note of theirs, That you'll fancy the voice that gave it Has been all the while singing the national airs, Instead of the Psalms of David. I once had a cousin who sung, Tom, And her name may be nameless now, But the sound of those songs is still young, Tom, Though we are no longer so : 'Tis folly to dream of a bower of green When there is not a leaf on the tree ; But 'twixt walking and singing, that cousin has been, God forgive her ! the ruin of me. And now I care naught for society, Tom, And lead a most anchorite life, For I've loved myself into sobriety, Tom, And out of the wish for a wife ; But oh, if I said but half what I might say, So sad were the lesson 'twould give, That 'twould keep you from loving for many a day, And from cousins — as long as you live. sterling's southern orator. 439 cccxxxii. VIRGINIA.— Makia G. Buchanan. Virginia ! linked with thy pure name Are records of bright deeds ; The soul with answering thoughts of flame Glows while the scroll she reads; Along the line her vision runs, Dazzling with triumphs of thy sons, Who, brave as lions in the field, Are lite the dove in lady's bower; They never know what 'tis to yields Save to Love's sovereign power ; And then the eye, which in the storm Of battle kindled like the sun, Now falls as soft on beauty's form, As his, when his proud pathway run, With softest light its glance is turned Upon the scenes which with'ring burned Beneath his mid-day glow. Ah ! yes, the bright Spirit of Chivalry, Which poured its light on the ages dark, Which rode o'er their billows triumphantly, (Enshrined in its wondrous bark, Along the dark waters it fearlessly bore The golden freight of its priceless store, Virtues undying spark, It bad rescued from 'mid the ashes cold Of ignorance, error, and ills untold,) No sooner had heard of thy new-found land Than he steered for the sun-bright shore, And moored his bark on the Virgin strand, And gave thee that golden store ! And linked, Virginia, with thy name Are thoughts of festal glee ; How clearly the heart-warming flame Of Hospitality In thy old manor-houses shone — 'Twas like a beacon star — The weary traveller wand'ring lone Glad hailed it from afar : 44:0 sterling's southern orator. And still upon thy hearths it burns With lustre as of old ; Still to its light the traveller turns, * Amid the night-winds cold, And never finds its guiding ray- Has shone to wilder or betray ! Virginia ! Yes, thou art indeed A Gem of clearest light, How well-earned is thy glorious meed, Brightest where all are bright ! Rich fruitage of the deathless seed Which Virtue, Genius, Valor cast Forth 'mid thy vales and mountains vast, With freely generous hand ; And, now j when centuries have past Over thy honored land, When heard is thy unsullied name, Leaps up the spirit's warmest flame ! CCCXXXIII. BENEDICT ARNOLD.— W. Gilmore Simms. Yes, long shall our country, recalling The deeds thou hast done, speak thy name, And though from thy proud station falling, All shall not be lost in thy shame ! While she tells how thy crime had betrayed her To the rage of the reckless invader, Shall she also repeat the proud story, Where thy gallantry led her to glory. Yet, alas ! even valor redeems not The life once delivered to shame ; The hero we love, it beseems not, That one shadow should darken his fame ! lie must neither know falsehood, nor falter, But as pure as the fire on the altar, He must speed in his garments of whiteness, To tUe highest, from brightness to brightness. sterling's southern orator. 441 Oh, the madness of soul, that, when holy, And proud were the deeds thou hadst done, Could win thee to worship so lowly And lose thee the green laurels won ! Those left on thy brow do not grace thee, They but show how thy treasons debase thee ; Yet thou might'st have gone down to the ages, The glory, not shame, on our pages. Ah ! well shall it be for our nation, If but one of its bright lights be gone; Stricken out from the height of its station, In the hour when most proudly it shone ! Thy fame as thy shame shall we cherish, Since they teach us how glory may perish ; And our young shall be tutored to name thee, While they loathe the foul deeds that beshame thee. CCOXXXIV. SHIPWRECK BY DRINK.— Thomas Heywood. This gentleman and I Passed but just now your next neighbor's house, Where, as they say, dwells one young Lionel, An unthrift youth ; his father now at sea : And there this night was held a sumptuous feast. In the height of their carousing, all their brains Warmed with the heat of wine, discourse was offered Of ships and storms at sea : when suddenly, Out of his giddy wildness, one conceives The room wherein they quaffed to be a pinnace, Moving and floating, and the confused noise To be the murmuring winds, gusts, mariners : That their unsteadfast footing did proceed From rocking of the vessel. This conceived, Each one begins to apprehend the danger, And to look out for safety. Fly, saith one, Up to the main-top, and discover. He 442 sterling's southern orator. Climbs by the bed-post to the tester, there Reports a turbulent sea and tempest towards ; And wills them, if they'll save their ship and lives, To cast their lading overboard. At this All fall to work, and hoist into the street, As to the sea, what next came to their hand, Stools, tables, tressels, trenches, bedsteads, cups, Pots, plate, and glasses. Here a fellow whistles ; They take him for the boatswain : one lies struggling Upon the floor, as if he swam for life : A third takes the bass-viol for the cock-boat, Sits in the bellow on't, labors, and rows ; His oar the stick with which the fiddler played : A fourth bestrides his fellow, thinking to 'scape (As did Arion) on the dolphin's back, Still fumbling on a gittern. The rude multitude, Watching without, and gaping for the spoil Cast from the windows, went by th' ears about it ; The constable is called t' atone the broil ; Which done, and hearing such a noise within Of imminent shipwreck, enters the house, and finds them In this confusion : they adore his staff*, And think it Neptune's trident ; and that he Comes with his Tritons (so they called his watch) To calm the tempest and appease the waves: And at this point we left them. cccxxxv. THE WOES OF MODERN GREECE.— H. T. Farmer. Alas ! thy land is now a land of woe ; Thy muse is crowned with Druid mistletoe. See the lorn virgin with dishevelled hair, To distant climes in 'wildercd haste repair; Chill desolation seeks her favored bowers, Neglect, that mildew, blasts her cherished flowers; The spring may bid their foliage bloom anew, The night may dress them in her fairy dew ; sterling's southern orator. 443 But what shall chase the winter-cloud of pain, And bid her early numbers breathe again ? What spring shall bid her mental gloom depart ? 'Tis always winter in a broken heart. The aged Patriarch seeks the sea-beat strand, To leave — forever leave his native land ; No sun shall cheer him with so kind a beam, No fountain bless him with so pure a stream ; Nay, should the exile through Elysium roam, He leaves his heaven when he leaves his home. But we may deeper, darker truth unfold, Of matrons slaughtered, and of virgins sold, Of shrines polluted by barbarian rage, Of gray locks rifled from the head of age, Of pilgrims murdered, and of chiefs defied, Where Christians knelt, and Sparta's heroes died. Once more thy chiefs their glittering arms resume, For heaven, for vengeance, conquest or a tomb ; With fixed resolve to be forever free, Or leave all Greece one vast Thermopylae. Columbia, rise ! A voice comes o'er the main, To ask thy blessing, nor to ask in vain ; Stand forth in bold magnificence, and be For classic Greece what France was once for thee. So shall the gods each patriot bosom sway, * And make each Greek the hero of his day. But, should thy wisdom and thy valor stand On neutral ground- — oh, may thy generous hand Assist her hapless warriors, and repair Her altars, scathed by sacrilege and care ; Hail all her triumphs, and her ills deplore, Nor let old Homer's manes beg once more. 444 steeling's southern orator. CCCXXXViL THE AMERICAN EAGLE.— -Southern Religious Telegraph. Bird of the cliff! thou art soaring on high; Thou hast swept the dense cloud from thy path in the sky ; Thou hast breasted the storm in thy heavenward flight. And fixed thy bright eye on the fountain of light; Thou hast braved the keen flash of the lightning in sport, And poised thy strong wing where the thunders resort ; Thou hast followed the stars in their pathways above, And chased the wild meteors wherever they rove. Bird of the forest! thou lov'st the deep shade, Where the oak spreads its boughs in the mountain and glade, Where the thick-clustered ivy encircles the pine, And the proud elm is wreathed by the close-clinging vine ; Thou hast tasted the dew of the untrodden plain, And followed the streams as they roll to the main ; Thou hast dipped thy swift wing in the feathery spray, Where the earth-quaking cataract roars on its w^ay. Bird of free skies ! thou hast sailed on the cloud, Where the battle raged fierce, and the cannon roared loud ; Thou hast swooped to the earth when the foeman was slain, And waved thy wide wing o'er the blood-sprinkled plain; Thou hast soared where the banner of freedom was borne ; Thou hast gazed at the far dreaded lion in scorn ; Thy beak has been wet in the blood of our foes, When the home of the bra ye has been left to repose. Bird of the clime in which liberty dwells, Nurse the free soul in thy cliff-sheltered dells ! Hover above the strong heart in its pride, Whisper of those who for freedom have died ! Bear up the free-nurtured spirit of man, Till it soar, like thine own, through its earth-bounded span, Waft it above, o'er the mountain and wave — Spread thy free wing o'er the patriot's grave. sterling's southern orator. 445 cccxxxvti. CALHOUN.— W. Gilmore Simms. Nations themselves are but the monuments Of deathless men, whom the Divine intents Decree for mighty purposes. They rise Superior, by their mission from the skies, To thoughts of self; and, in self-sacrifice, Assert the race ; guide, fashion, and inform, Direct for conquest, gather from the storm, And build in strength ! Their powerful arms maintain The realm of Peace, and consecrate her reign By Justice, Truth, Protection. They defend The land that gave them being, and commend Her virtues to the love of other climes, That else had lapsed from weaknesses to crimes, And so, to ruin ! They foresee the fate, And arm against the danger ere too late ; Meet the assailing foeman at the wall, And nobly conquer, or as nobly fall. Their lives, devote to patriot service, teach How best to build the tower and man the breach ; Their hands, outstretched in blessing rites, have made The nations safe and sacred in their shade ! We rear our humble column to the name Of one who led our power and won us fame ! Whose wondrous genius, with Ithuriel spear, Hath made the crouching fiend start up in fear; Smote the foul reptile, even where he lay Coiled round our altar, poisoning still his prey ; Expelled the foe that threatened as a fate, And saved from loss the sacred shield of state ! 446 sterling's southern orator. His lips spoke lightnings ! His immaculate thought From seraph source divinest fervors caught ; His fiery argument, with eagle rush, Spelled mightiest senates into trembling hush ; While the great billowy thunders, echoing still, With rolling surges round the Sacred Hill, Strike with sharp terrors into nerveless awe The insidious enemies of Right and Law ! Even to the last, still battling in the van, For the great truths and natural rights of man, He died in harness, in the thick of strife, His very death a triumph — like his life ! The great fall from us. We have need to fear, When voice like his no longer thrills the ear ! When, in the Senate, owls and mousing things Creep to high places which were made for wings, 'Tis need we should do homage, and implore Great shoulders, such as his white mantle bore ! 'Tis reverence brings the prophet. If we praise The perished virtue, and its altar raise, We may recall the genius, lost too soon, And find, 'mong other sons, a new Calhoun ! CCOXXXVIII. SHAVING.— Anonymous. His eye was stern and wild ; his cheek Was pale and cold as clay ; Upon his tightened lip a smile Of fearful meaning lay : He mused awhile, but not in doubt ; No trace of doubt was there ; It was the steady, solemn pause Of resolute despair. sterling's southern orator. 447 Once more he looked upon the scroll, Once more its words he read ; Then calmly, with unflinching hand, Its folds before him spread. I saw him bare his throat — and seize The blue, cold-gleaming steel, And grimly try the tempered edge He was so sure to feel ! A sickness crept upon my heart, And dizzy swam my head ; I could not stir, I could not cry, I felt benumbed and dead. Black, icy horrors struck me dumb, And froze my senses o'er ; I closed my eyes in utter fear, And strove to think no more. Again I looked : a fearful change Across his face had passed : He seemed to rave : on cheek and lip A flashy foam was cast. He raised on high the glittering blade ; Then first I found a tongue : " Hold ! madman ! stay the frantic deed !" I cried, and forth I sprung : He heard me, but he heeded not : One glance around he gave : And ere I could arrest his hand, He had — begun to shave. 448 sterling's southern orator. cccxxxix. DARKNESS.— Byron. I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars Did wander, darkling, in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind, and blackening, in the moonless air; Morn came and went — and came, and brought no day; And men forgot their passions, in the dread Of this their desolation ; and all hearts Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light. Some lay down, And hid their eyes, and wept ; and some did rest Their chins upon their clinched hands, and smiled ; And others hurried to and fro, and fed Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up, With mad disquietude, on the dull sky, The pall of a past world ; and then again, With curses, cast them down upon the dust, And gnashed their teeth and howled. The wild birds shrieked, And, terrified, did flutter on the ground, And flap their useless wings : the wildest brutes Came tame, and tremulous ; and vipers crawled And twined themselves among the multitude, Hissing, but stingless — they were slain for food. The meager by the meager were devoured ; # Even dogs assailed their masters — all save one, And he was faithful to a corse, and kept The birds, and beasts, and famished men at bay, Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead Lured their lank jaws ; himself sought out no food, But, with a piteous and perpetual moan, And a quick, desolate cry, licking the hand Which answered not with a caress — he died. The crowd was famished by degrees ; but two Of an enormous city did survive, And they were enemies; they met beside The dying embers of an altar- place, sterling's southern orator. 449 Where had been heaped a mass of holy things, For an unholy usage : they raked up, And, shivering, scraped, with their cold, skeleton hands, The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath Blew for a little life, and made a flame, Which was a mockery : then they lifted Their eyes, as it grew lighter, and beheld Each other's aspects; saw, and shrieked, and died. Even of their mutual hideousness they died, Unknowing who he was upon whose brow Famine had written fiend. The world was void ; The populous and the powerful was a lump — Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless ; A lump of death — a chaos of hard clay. The rivers, lakes, and ocean, all stood still, And nothing stirred within their silent depths : Ships, sailorless, lay rotting on the sea, And their masts fell down piecemeal ; as they dropped, They slept, on the abyss, without a surge : The waves were dead ; the tides were in their grave ; The moon, their mistress, had expired before ; The winds were withered in the stagnant air, And the clouds perished : darkness had no need Of aid from them ; she was the universe. CCCXL. DREAMING— NOT ACHIEVING.— So. Lit. Messenger. A youth sat by a river's side, A river running with its tide, Swelling swift, and swelling wide, In onward current to the main. And on its surface floated there, With banners waving in the air, Full many a fabric tall and fair, All floating downward to the main. And as he gazed with dreamy eyes, And saw the radiant fabrics rise, 450 sterling's southern orator. With banners flaunting to the skies, He shook his head in bitter scorn. "Ha ! radiant forms, in vain ye rise, In vain your banners flaunt the skies, Your splendor dims — your glory dies — Ye'll never see the Immortal Morn. " Ye'll never bear the beating rain : Ye'll never reach the mighty main, Ye are but ' castles built in Spain :' Ye'll never see the Immortal Morn. 'Tis I could build a stalwart form, That would outride the wintry storm, And, sailing ever free from harm, At last would see the Immortal Morn." And thus he wraps him in his pride, And lays him by that river's side, To wait some future fortune's tide, Then launch his fabric on the stream. But still the waters ever flow, The swelling tides still come and go, The fabrics still glide down below, And he still builds one in a dream. Year after year fast flies away, The sun of life hath passed mid-day, And weary casts a western ray, But he still dreams of battles won. Though Genius sat upon his brow, And lit his soul with fancy's glow, 'Tis all in vain forever now — His dream is o'er — his life is done ! Need I tell that river's name, By which he lay, and dreamed of Fame, Until his dream became his shame ? That river's called the Stream of Life. And those fabrics floating there, With banners waving in the air, Are all the work of mental care, Wrought amid the world's great strife. sterling's southern orator. 451 CCCXLI. AMBITION.— N. P. Willis. What is ambition ? 'Tis a glorious cheat. It seeks the chamber of the gifted boy, And lifts his humble window, and comes in. The narrow walls expand, and spread away Into a kingly palace, and the roof Lifts to the sky, and unseen fingers work The ceiling with rich blazonry, and write His name in burning letters over all. And ever as he shuts his 'wildered eyes, The phantom comes, and lays upon his lips A spell that murders sleep, and in his ear Whispers a deathless word, and on his brain Breathes a fierce thirst no waters will allay. He is a slave henceforth. His days are spent In chaining down his heart, and watching where To rise by human weakness. His nights Bring him no rest in all their blessed hours ; His kindred are forgotten or estranged ; Unhealthful fires burn constant in his eye ; His lip grows restless, and its smile is curled Half into scorn ; till the bright, fiery boy, That 'twas a daily blessing but to see, His spirit was so birdlike and so pure, Is frozen, in the very flush of youth, Into a cold, care-fretted, heartless man. And what is its reward ? At best, a name ! Praise — when the ear has grown too dull to hear; Gold — when the senses it should please are dead ; Wreaths — when the hair they cover has grown gray ; Fame — when the heart it should have thrilled is numb ; All things but love — when love is all we want : And close behind comes death, and ere we know That even these unavailing gifts are ours, He sends us, stripped and naked, to the grave. 452 sterling's southern orator. CCCXLII. THE ANTHEM OF HEAVEN.— Philo Henderson. Through the dark realm of chaos ere the morning of Time, The strains of an anthem pealed onward sublime ; Swelling up from the harps of angels on high, Unechoed they swept down the dim, starless sky. The sun, moon, and earth, and stars were not there, To catch the grand strains of that heavenly air ; But on, ever on, through dim chaos and night, They bent their grand, solemn, and measureless flight. "When God by His word spoke in being the earth, Those strains, echoed back, sung in heaven its birth ; And sun, moon, and stars, beneath Jehovah's glance, In beautiful order wheeled into the dance. And now, where the furthest bright tremulous star, On the horizon's verge, drives its silvery car, The strains of that anthem are reechoed back As that star to their music pursues its bright track. The sky-piercing mountain, the shadowy vale, The cloud that unfurls its white vapory sail, The flower that blooms by the cataract's roar, And ocean along its lone desolate shore, Adoringly feel and respond to those tones ; And the proud heart of man their sweet influence owns, When they swell on the wings of the dark tempest's might, Or breathe through the calm of the weeping twilight. To their music in time the wide universe sweeps, In its grand, stately march through unlimited deeps, From the loveliest star to which Chaldeans prayed To the insect that winds his small horn in the shade. When the archangel's trump, with its loud pealing strain, Shall wake their long sleepers from mountain and plain, sterling's southern orator. 453 The strains of that hymn will swell higher and higher, And blend with the roar of Time's funeral pyre. Then onward, sublimely unanswered, once more Through the dim, starless sky they will sweep as of yore, And forever bend down their long measureless flight Through the dim, rayless regions of chaos and night. CCCXLIII. MORNING.— J. M. Loyejoy. The morning is the hour of thought, and he Who walks her earthly paths will often find Himself alone with God — her purity So flow along the heart and brace the mind, That, as she doth into his being wind, The soul will mount with her the blue domain, Pass o'er the shining towers, and, unconfined, With angel feet roam o'er the heavenly plain, Pluck life's unfading flowers and truth immortal gain The mocking-birds begin the morning's song In murmurs soft and sweet, as flows the rill ; Now, like a holy chant, it rolls along Through ancient vaulted woods, increasing till All up and down the scale the anthems trill ; The lord of song in his green gallery sings, While o'er the vale and up the dusky hill, From her resounding rock, the Echo flings Through all her silver pipes the joy that round her rings. The dawn expands, and now the rolling sea Pours o'er the morning-star its waves of light, That, lingering long, and twinkling, seemed to bo A diamond's point, uniting day and night ; The trees, half gilt, that soar the pasture's height, Come down to hide the vale with shadows deep And shut the dreamy farm-house from the sight, Where now and then the playful breezes creep, To shake the drowsy elms, that ever murmuring keep. 454 sterling's southern orator. O lovely morning ! lovely as the soul Of beauty's eye ! how sweet thy dawning ray Unveils thy face, till thy full glories roll Along the blue ; the roses all at play Upon thy shining bosom ; thou dost lay Thy ruby twinkling fingers on the dews, Profusely fling thy gorgeous gems away, While flower and shrub give back to thee thy hues, And glow with light and life, thy presence doth infuse. But half uprisen appears the glorious sun ; The liquid streams o'er yon smooth hill-top flow, Chasing the shadow, down the dark side run, Have passed the horse, and reached the vale below, Round which the river makes a silver bow ; The water-lilies shake their starry gold ; Only their modest green the alders show ; But there the blackbirds morning converse hold — ■ Hark ! how with winged words their fiery hearts unfold. The spirit-stirring sun ascends his throne, And bids the world arouse itself once more; Back, from his flaming front, the clouds have flown, And now man, bird, and insect pass before His beaming countenance. The old woods roar To nature's echoing footsteps — how she flings Her glowing eye to heaven — away doth soar To meet exultant Morning, where she springs, With hope upon her brow and splendor on her wings. The earth comes forth, in robes of grandeur drest, Worthy to be the day-god's bridal queen ; The dew, upon her dark green velvet vest, That looks as if a shower of gems had been. The deep blue sky, the far-off village sheen, The graceful spires that soar like shafts of light, The summer fruit-trees blushing o'er the green, Display themselves, so beautiful and bright, The whole enchantment seems to the beholder's sight. sterling's southern orator. 455 CCCXLIV. WASHINGTON— FROM "ARNOLD AND ANDRE." George H. Calvert. Washington Doth know no other language than the one We speak ; and never did an English tongue Give voice unto a larger, wiser mind. You'll task your judgment vainly to point out, Through all this desp'rate conflict, in his plans A flaw, or fault in execution. He In spirit is unconquerable, as In genius perfect. Side by side I fought With him in that disastrous enterprise Where rash young Braddock fell ; and there I marked The vet'ran's skill contend for mastery With youthful courage in his wondrous deeds. "Well might the bloody Indian warrior pause, Amid his massacre confounded, and His baffled rifle's aim, till then unerring, Turn from " that tall young man," and deem in awe That the Great Spirit hovered over him ; For he, of all our mounted officers, Alone came out unscathed from that dread carnage To guard our shattered army's swift retreat. For years did his majestic form hold place Upon my mind, stamped in that perilous hour, In th' image of a strong-armed friend, until I met him next as a resistless foe. 'Twas at the fight near Princeton. In quick march, Victorious o'er his van, onward we pressed ; When, moving with firm pace, led by the Chief Himself, the central force encountered us. One moment paused the opposing hosts — and then The rattling volley hid the death it bore ; Another — and the sudden cloud, uprolled, Displayed, midway between the adverse lines, His drawn sword gleaming high, the Chief 1 — as though That crash of deadly music, and the burst Of sulphurous vapor, had from out the earth 456 sterling's southern orator. Summoned the god of war. Doubly exposed, He stood unharmed. Like eagles tempest-borne Rushed to his side his men ; and had our souls And arms with twofold strength been braced, we yet Had not withstood that onset. Thus does he Keep ever with occasion even step — Now, warily before our eager speed Retreating, tempting us with battle's promise, Only to toil us with a vain pursuit ; Now, wheeling rapidly about our flanks, Startling our ears with sudden peal of war, And fronting in the thickest of the fight The common soldier's death, stirring the blood Of faintest hearts to deeds of bravery By his great presence ; and his every act, Of heady onslaught as of backward march, From thoughtful judgment first inferred. CCCXLV. THE COLOR-BEARER.-— Mrs. M. J. Preston. The shock of battle swept the lines, The wounded men and slain Lay thick as lie in summer fields The ridgy swaths of grain. The deadly volleys belched their fire, The raking cannon pealed ; The lightning-flash of bayonets Went glittering round the field. On rushed the gallant " Twenty-fourth" Against the bristling guns, Whose blaze could daunt or dazzle them No more than could the sun's. It mattered not though heads went down, Though stately steps were staid — Though rifles dropt from bleeding hands, And ghastly gaps were made. sterling's southern orator. 457 " Close up !" was still the stern command, And with unwavering tread They held right on, though well they knew They tracked their way with dead. As fast they pressed, with laboring breath, Clinched teeth, and knitted frown, The sharp and sudden cry rang out, "The color-bearer's down!" Quick to the front sprang eagerly The youngest of the band, And caught the flag still tightly held Within the fallen hand. With cheer he reared it high again, Yet claimed an instant's pause To lift the dying man, and see Whose pallid face it was. " Forward !" the captain shouted loud, Still " Forward !" and the men Caught madly up the shrill command And shrieked it out again. But moveless stood the fair-faced boy Without a foot's advance, Until the captain shook his arm, And roused him from his trance. His home had flashed upon his sight, That blest and sunny spot ; He did not hear the crashing shells, Nor heed the hissing shot. He saw his mother wring her hands, He heard his sister's cries ; And tears were on his girl-like cheeks, And grief was in his eyes. The touch dissolved the spell — he knew, He felt the fearful stir ; He raised his head, and softly said, " He was my brother, sir !" .458 sterling's southern orator. Then grasping firm the crimson flag, He flung it free and high, While patriot passion staunched his tears And drank his sorrow dry. Between his close, set teeth he spoke — And hard he draw his breath : " I'll bear this flag to victory, Or bear it, sir, to death !" The bellowing batteries thundered on, The sulph'rous smoke rose higher, And from the columns in the front Poured forth the galling fire. But where the bullets thickest fell, Where hottest raged the fight, The steady colors tossed aloft Their trail of crimson light. Firm and indomitable still The " Twenty-fourth" moved on — A dauntless remnant only left — The brave threescore were gone ! And now once more the cry arose, Which not the guns could drown : "Ho, boys ! up with the flag again ! The color-bearer's down !" They sought to loose his grasp, but fast He clung with iron will : " The arm that's broken is my left y So I can hold it still !" And " Forward ! forward ! Twenty-fourth !" Rang out above the roar, When suddenly the guiding flag Sank, and was seen no more. And when the fiery fight was done, And from the bloody field The battered M Twenty-fourth" withdrew, Because they would not yield, STERLING'S SOUTHERN ORATOR, 459 They found a boy whose face still wore A look resolved and grand — A rent and riddled flag close clutched Within his shattered hand ! CCCXLVI. RAPHAEL'S ACCOUNT OF CREATION.— Milton. Heavek opened wide Her ever-during gates — harmonious sound — On golden hinges moving, to let forth The King of Glory, in His powerful Word And Spirit, coming to create new worlds. On heavenly ground They stood ; and, from the shore, They viewed the vast, immeasurable abyss, Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild, Up from the bottom turned by furious winds And surging waves, as mountains to assault Heaven's height, and with the centre mix the pole. " Silence, ye troubled waves, and thou deep, peace !" Said then the Omnific Word ; " your discord end !" Nor staid, but, on the wings of cherubim Uplifted, in paternal glory rode Far into Chaos, and the world unborn ; For Chaos heard His voice : Him all His train Followed in bright procession, to behold Creation, and the wonders of His might. Then staid the fervid wheels, and in His hand He took the golden compasses prepared In God's eternal store, to circumscribe This universe, and all created things : One foot He centred, and the other turned Round through the vast profundity obscure, And said, " Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds, This be thy just circumference, O world !" Thus God the heaven created, thus the earth, Matter unformed and void ; darkness profound 4:60 sterling's southern okator. Covered the abyss $ but on the watery calm His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspread, And vital virtue infused, and vital warmth Throughout the fluid mass : then founded, then conglobed Like things to like, the rest to several place Disparted, and between spun out the air; And earth, self-balanced, on her centre hung. " Let there be light !" said God; and- forthwith light Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, Sprung from the deep, and, from her native east, To journey through the airy gloom began, Sphered in a radiant cloud ; for yet the sun Was not : she in -a cloudy tabernacle Sojourned the while. God saw the light was good, And light from darkness, by the hemisphere, Divided : light the day, and darkness night, He named. Thus was the first day even and morn. "Nor passed uncelebrated, nor unsung By the celestial choirs, when orient light Exhaling first from darkness they beheld ; Birthday of heaven and earth : with joy and shout The hollow universal orb they filled, And touched their golden harps, and, hymning, praised God and His works ; Creator Him they sung, Both when first evening was, and when first morn. CCCXLVII. THE DYING YEAR.— Mrs. S. M. Chotn. The dying year ! the dying year ! how swift the moments We hear it in the murmuring wind that passes sadly by, We see it in the sombre face that weeping Nature wears, 'Twill soon be numbered with the past, the long forgotten years. sterling's southern orator. 461 The joyous Spring that gladly came in Nature's fair array, With robes all bright and beautiful, to grace the gladsome day, Shone on us with its look of love a few brief passing hours, And then the glorious light of Spring departed like its flowers. The Summer came with golden fruits, with gorgeous flowers and gay, But yet its never-wearying hours passed swiftly on their Till Autumn with its noiseless step, its sure but silent tread, Had o'er the hills and valleys round a deeper lustre shed. Then Winter came with hollow sound, with low and rus- tling tone It told that Summer's glorious hours and Autumn's light had flown : The year that lately on us shone, so fair, so bright and gay, Is passing, passing, swiftly on, departing still away. And shall we come Avith festive song, and music's gladsome swell, To chase the dying year away, and bid it thus farewell ? Are there no buried hopes to lie within the lonely bier That soon will close in sadness round the fast departing year ? How many young and buoyant hearts that gladly hailed its dawn, From earthly scenes, and earthly hopes, and earthly cares are gone ! The gentle look, the thrilling tone, the beating heart is stilled, The voice of sweetest melody by Death's cold touch is chilled. But whispers from the spirit-land in accents softly come, And tell us of a fairer clime, a never-dying home ; A clime where seasons never change, a land beyond the tomb, Where heavenly streams in glory flow, and flowers eternal bloom. 462 sterling's southern orator. Then with the year's departing lay, oh, let us raise above The voice of deep and earnest prayer to Him whose name is Love, That, when our year of life shall close, a bright and glorious even Shall herald forth a noble rest prepared for us in heaven! CCCXLVIII. THE PLEASURES OF A PICNIC PARTY.—T. Hood. If, sick of home and luxuries, You want a new sensation, And sigh for the unwontedease Of unaccommodation — If you would taste, as amateur And vagabond beginner, The painful pleasures of the poor, Get up a picnic dinner. Presto ! — 'tis done ! — away you start, All frolic, fun, and laughter ; The servants and provision-cart As gayly trotting after. The spot is reached, when all exclaim, With many a joyous antic, " How sweet a scene ! I'm glad I came ! How rural ! how romantic !" Half starved with hunger, parched with thirst, All haste to spread the dishes, When, lo ! 'tis found the ale had burst Among the loaves and fishes ! Over the pie a sudden hop The grasshoppers are skipping ; Each roll's a sponge, each loaf a mop, And all the meat is dripping ! Bristling with broken glass, you find Some cakes among the bottles — Which those may eat who do not mind Excoriated throttles ! sterling's southern orator. 463 The biscuits now are wiped and dried, When squalling voices utter, cc Look ! look ! a toad has got astride Our only pot of 'butter !" Your solids in a liquid state, Your cooling liquids heated, And every promised joy by fate Most fatally defeated. All, save the serving-men, are soured — They smirk — the cunning sinners — Having, before they came, devoured Most comfortable dinners ! Still you assume, in very spite, A grim and gloomy sadness ; Pretend to laugh, affect delight, And scorn all show of sadness ! While thus you smile, but storm within, A storm without comes faster, And down descends, in deafening din, A deluge of disaster. 'Tis sauve que pent — the fruit dessert Is fruitlessly deserted ; And homeward now you all revert, Dull, desolate, and dirtied ! Each gruffly grumbling, as he eyes His soaked and sullen brother, " If these are picnic pleasantries, Preserve me from another !" CCCXLIX. LAUNCHING OF THE SHIP.— H. W. Longfellow. All is finished, and at length Has come the bridal day Of beauty and of strength. To-day the vessel shall be launched ! With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched, And o'er the bay, 4:64: sterling's southern orator. Slowly, in all his splendors bright, The great sun rises to behold the sight. The ocean old, Centuries old, Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, Paces restless to and fro, Tip and down the sands of gold. His beating heart is not at rest ; And far and wide With ceaseless flow As beard of snow Heaves w^ith the heaving of his breast. He waits impatient for his bride. There she stands With her foot upon the sands, Decked with flags and streamers gay, In honor of her marriage-day, Her snow- white signals fluttering, blending Round her like a veil descending, Ready to be The bride of the gray old sea. Then the master, With a gesture of command, Waved his hand, And at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, All around them and below, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, Knocking away the shores and spurs. And see ! she stirs ! She starts — she moves — she seems to feel The thrill of life along her keel, And, spurning with her foot the ground, With one exulting, joyous bound, She leaps into the ocean's arms. And lo ! from the assembled crowd There rose a shout, prolonged and loud, sterling's southern orator. 465 That to the ocean seemed to say, " Take her, O bridegroom, old and gray ! Take her to thy protecting arms, With all her youth and all her charms." How beautiful she is ! how fair. She lies within those arms, that press Her form with many a soft caress Of tenderness and watchful care ! Sail forth into the sea, O ship ! Through wind and wave, right onward steer ! The moistened eye, the trembling lip, Are not the signs of doubt or fear. Sail forth into the sea of life, O gentle, loving, trusting wife I And safe from all adversity, Upon the bosom of that sea, Thy comings and thy goings be f For gentleness, and love, and trust Prevail o'er angry wave and gust ; And in the wreck of noble livea Something immortal still survives ! Thou, too, sail on, O ship of State ! Sail on, O Union, strong and great ! Humanity, with all its fears, With all its hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! We know what Master laid thy keel, What workman wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge, and what a heat, Were shaped the anchors of thy hope. Fear not each sudden sound and shock ; 'Tis of the wave, and not the rock ; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale. In spite of rock and tempest roar, In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea. 466 sterling's southern orator. Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee : Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee — are all with thee. CCCL. TASTE.— Akenside. What, then, is taste, but these internal powers Active, and strong, and feelingly alive To each fine impulse ? a discerning sense Of decent and sublime, with quick disgust For things deformed, or disarranged, or gross In species? This, nor gems, nor stores of gold, Nor purple state, nor culture can bestow, But God alone when first His active hand Imprints the secret bias of the soul. He, mighty parent ! wise and just in all, Free as the vital breeze or light of heaven, Reveals the charms of nature. Ask the swain Who journeys homeward from a summer day's Long labor, why, forgetful of his toils And due repose, he loiters to behold The sunshine gleaming as through amber clouds, O'er all the western sky ; full soon, I ween, His rude expression and untutored airs, Beyond the power of language, will unfold The form of beauty smiling at his heart, How lovely ! how commanding ? But though Heaven In every breast hath sown these early seeds Of love and admiration, yet in vain, Without fair culture's kind parental aid, Without enlivening suns, and genial showers, And shelter from the blast, in vain we hope The tender plant should rear its blooming head, Or yield the harvest promised in its spring. Nor yet will every soil with equal stores Repay the tiller's labor ; or attend His will, obsequious, whether to produce sterling's southern orator. 467 The olive or the laurel. Different minds Incline to different objects ; one pursues The vast alone, the wonderful, the wild ; Another sighs for harmony, and grace, And gentlest beauty. Hence when lightning fires The arch of heaven, and thunders rock the ground ; When furious whirlwinds rend the howling air, And ocean, groaning from its lowest bed, Heaves its tempestuous billows to the sky ; Amid the mighty uproar, while below The nations tremble, Shakespeare looks abroad From some high cliff, superior, and enjoys ^The elemental war. But Waller longs, All on the margin of some flowery stream, To spread his careless limbs amid the cool Of plantain shades, and to the listening deer The tale of slighted vows and love's disdain Resound soft warbling all the live-long day; Consenting zephyr sighs ; the weeping rill Joins in his plaint melodious ; mute the groves ; And hill and dale with all their echoes mourn. Such and so various are the tastes of men. CCCIil. MAJOR BROWN.— T. Hood. If any man, in any age, in any town or city, Was ever valiant, courteous, sage, experienced, wise, or witty, That man was Major Brown by name ; the fact you cannot doubt, For he himself would say the same, ten times a day about. The major in the foreign wars indifferently had fared; For he was covered o'er with scars, though he was never scared. But war had now retired to rest, and piping peace return- ed; Yet still within his ardent breast the major's spirit burned. 468 sterling's southern orator. When suddenly he heard of one who in an air balloon Had gone — I can't tell where he'd gone — almost into the moon, "Let me — let me," the major cries, "let me, like him, ascend ; And if it fall that I should rise, who knows where it may- end ?" The cords are cut — a mighty shout — the globe ascends on high ; And, like a ball from gun shot out, the major mounts the sky— Or would have done, but cruel chance forbade it so to be ; And bade the major not advance — caught in a chestnut tree. But soon the awkward branch gives way, he smooths his angry brow, Shoots upward, rescued from delay, and makes the branch a bow : Till, mounting furlongs now some dozens, and peeping down, he pants To see his mother, sisters, cousins, and uncles look like ants. That Brown looked blue I will not say — his uniform was red — But he thought that if his car gave way he should probably be dead. He gave his manly breast a slap, and loudly shouted, " Courage !" And w^aved above his head the cap in which he used to forage. And up he went, and looked around to see what there might be, And felt convinced that on the ground were better things to see. A strange bird came his path across, whose name he did not know ; Quoth he, "'Tis like an albatross ;" it proved to be a crow. " I wish that you would please to drop," quoth Brown to his balloon ; He might as well have spoken to the man that's in the moon. sterling's southern orator. 469 And now the heavens begin to lower, and thunders loud to roll, And winds and rains to blow and pour, that would daunt a general's soul. Such a hurricane to Major Brown must most unpleasant be ; And he said, " If I cannot get down, 'twill be all up with me !" * From his pocket then a knife he took; in Birmingham 'twas made; The handle was of handsome look, of tempered steel the blade. Says he, " The acquaintance of a balloon I certainly shall cut." So in the silken bag full soon his penknife blade he put. Out rushed the gas imprisoned there — the balloon began to sink: "I shall surely soon get out of the air," said Major Brown, u I think." Alas for Brown, balloon, and car, the gas went out too fast ; The car went upside down, and far poor Major Brown was cast, Long time head over heels he tumbled, till unto the ground, As I suppose, he must have come ; but he was never found. The car was found in London town ; the bag to Oxford flew; But what became of Major Brown no mortal ever knew. CCCLII. LOVE AND MURDER.— Anonymous. In Manchester a maiden dwelt, Her name was Phoebe Brown ; Her cheeks were red, her hair was black, And she was considered by good judges to be by all odds the best-looking girl in town. 470 sterling's southern orator. Her age was nearly seventeen, Her eyes were sparkling bright ; A very lovely girl she was, And for about a year and a half there had been a young man paying his attention to her, by the name of Reuben Wright. Now Reuben was a nice young man As any in the town ; And Phoebe loved him very dear, But, on account of his being obliged to work for a living, he never could make himself agreeable to old Mr. and Mrs. Brown. Her parents were resolved Another she should wed, A rich old miser in the place, And old Brown frequently declared, that, rather than have his daughter marry Reuben Wright, he'd sooner knock him on the head. But Phoebe's heart was brave and strong, She feared not her parents' frowns ; And as for Reuben Wright so bold, I've heard him say more than fifty times that, (with the exception of Phoebe,) he didn't care a cent for the whole race of Browns. So Phoebe Brown and Reuben Wright Determined they would marry ; Three weeks ago last Tuesday night They started for old Parson Webster's, deter- mined to be united in the holy bonds of matrimony, though it was tremendous dark, and rained like the old Harry. But Captain Brown was wide awake ; He loaded up his gun, And then pursued the loving pair ; And overtook 'em when they'd got about half way to the parson's, and then Reuben and Phoebe started off upon the run. sterling's southern orator. 471 Old Brown then took a deadly aim Toward young Reuben's head ; But, oh, it was a burning shame ! He made a mistake, and shot his only daughter, and had the unspeakable anguish of seeing her drop right down stone dead. Then anguish filled young Reuben's heart, And vengeance crazed his brain ; He drew an awful jack-knife out, And plunged it into old Brown about fifty or sixty times, so that it's very doubtful about his ever coming to again. The briny drops from Reuben's eyes In torrents poured down, He yielded up the ghost, and died ; And in this melancholy and heart-rending man- ner terminates the history of Reuben and Phoebe, and like- wise old Captain Brown. CCCIiIII. THE LAST MAN.— Campbell. All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, The sun himself must die', Before the mortal shall assume Its immortality. I saw a vision in my sleep That gave my spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf of time. I saw the last of human mould That shall creation's death behold, As Adam saw her prime. The sun's eye had a sickly glare, The earth with age was wan ; The skeletons of nations were Around that lonely man. 472 sterling's southern orator. Some had expired in fight; the brands Still rusted in their bony hands ; In plague and famine some. Earth's cities had no sound nor tread, And ships were drifting with the dead To shores where all was dumb. Yet, prophet-like, that lone one stood, With dauntless words and high, That shook the sear leaves from the wood As if a storm passed by ; Saying, " We are twins in death, proud sun Thy face is cold, thy race is run ; 'Tis mercy bids thee go. For thou, ten thousand thousand years, Hast seen the tide of human tears That shall no longer flow. 44 What though beneath thee man put forth His pomp, his pride, his skill ; And arts that made fire, flood, and earth The vassals of his will; Yet mourn I not thy parted sway, Thou dim, discrowned king of day : For all those trophied arts And triumphs that beneath thee sprang Healed not a passion or a pang Entailed on human hearts. Go — let oblivion's curtain fall Upon the stage of men, Nor with thy rising beams recall Life's tragedy again. Its piteous pageants bring not back, Nor waken flesh, upon the rack Of pain anew to writhe ; Stretched in disease's shapes abhorred, Or mown in battle by the sword, Like grass beneath the scythe. Even I am weary in yon skies To watch thy fading fire ; sterling's southern orator. 473 Test of all sunless agonies, Behold not me expire. My lips that speak thy dirge of death — Their rounded gasp and gurgling breath To see thou shalt not boast. The eclipse of nature spreads my pall — ■ The majesty of darkness shall Receive my parting ghost ! This spirit shall return to Him That gave its heavenly spark; Yet think not, sun, it shall be dim When thou thyself art dark ! No ! it shall live again, and shine In bliss unknown to beams of thine : By Him recalled to breath, Who captive led captivity, Who robbed the grave of victory, And took the sting from death ! Go, sun, while mercy holds me up On nature's awful waste, To drink this last and bitter cup Of grief that man shall taste — Go, tell the night that hides thy face, Thou saw'st the last of Adam's race On earth's sepulchral clod, The dark'ning universe defy To quench his immortality, Or shake his trust in God ! CCCLIV. THE QUARREL OP BRUTUS AND CASSIU&— Shakespeake. Cassius. That you have wronged me, doth appear in this : You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella, For taking bribes here of the Sardians ; Wherein my letters, praying on his side, Because I knew the man, were slighted o£ 474 sterling's southern orator. Brutus. You wronged yourself, to write in such a case. Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet That every nice offence should bear its comment. Bru. Yet let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemned to have an itching palm ; To sell and mart your offices for gold To undeservers. Cas. I an itching palm ? You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. Bru. The name of Cassius honors this corruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide its head. Cas. Chastisement! Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March remember Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice ? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man in all this world, But for supporting robbers ; shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ? And sell the mighty space of our large honors, For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman. Cas. Brutus, bay not me, I'll not endure it ; you forget yourself To hedge me in ; I am a soldier, I, Older in practice, abler than yourself To make conditions. Bru. Go to ; you're not Cassius. Cas. I am. Bru. I say you are not. Cas. Urge me no more ; I shall forget myself; Have mind upon your health ; tempt me no further. Bru. Away, slight man ! Cas. Is it possible ? Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler ? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares ? Cas. Must I endure all this ? Bru. AH this ? Ay, more ; fret till your proud heart break. Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? sterling's southern orator. 475 Must I observe you ? Must' I stand and crouch Under your testy humor ? You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish. Cas. Is it come to this ? Bru. You say you are a better soldier : Let it appear so ; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well. For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men. Cas. You wrong me every way ; you wrong me, Brutus ; I said an elder soldier, not a better : Did I say better ? J9m If you did, I care not. Cas. When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me. Bru. Peace, peace ; you durst not so have tempted him. Cas. I durst not ? Bru. No. Cas. What ! Durst not tempt him ? Bru. For your life you durst not. Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love ; I may do that I shall be sorry for. Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats ; For I am armed so strong in honesty, That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me ; For I can raise no money by vile means : I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me. Was that done like Cassius ? Should I have answered Caius Cassius so ? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts, Dash him to pieces ! Cas. I denied you not. Bnu You? did. 476 sterling's southern orator. Cas. I did not. He was but a fool That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart ; A friend should bear his friend's infirmities; But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Uru. I do not, till you practise them on me. Cas. You love me not. Bru. I do not like your faults. Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus. Gas. Come, Antony and young Octavius, come ! Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is aweary of the world : Hated by one he loves ; braved by his brother ; Checked like a bondman ; all his faults observed, Set in a note-book, learned and conned by rote, To cast into my teeth. Oh, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast ; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold ; If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth; I that denied thee gold will give my heart: Strike as thou didst at Caesar ; for I know When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov^dst him better Than ever thou lovedst Cassius. Bru. Sheathe your dagger : Be angry when you will, it shall have scope; Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor. O Cassius ! you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as a flint bears fire ; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again. Cas. Hath Cassius lived To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, When grief or blood ill-tempered vexeth him ? Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered too. Cas. Do you confess so much ? Give me your hand. Bru. And my heart too. Cas. O Brutus ! Bru. What's the matter? Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with me When that rash humor which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful ? sterling's southern orator. 477 JBru. Yes, Cassius ; and from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so. CCCLV. BANISHMENT OF CATILINE.— S. Ckoly. Scene: Senate in session, a Consul in the chair y lictors present. Cicero concluding his speech. Cicero. Our long dispute must close. Take one proof more Of this rebellion. Lucius Catiline Has been commanded to attend the senate ; He dares not come ! I now demand your votes ! Is he condemned to exile ? (Enter Catiline hastily, and, as he seats himself on one side, all the senators go over to the other.) Cic. (Turning to Catiline.) Here I repeat the charge, to gods and men, Of treason manifold; that, but this day, He has received despatches from the rebels ; That he has leagued with deputies from Gaul To siege the province ; nay, he has levied troops, And raised his rebel standard ; that, but now, A meeting of conspirators was held Under his roof, with mystic rites and oaths, Pledged round the body of a murdered slave. To these he has no answer. Catiline. (Rising calmly.) Conscript fathers ! I do not rise to waste the night in words : Let that plebeian talk ; 'tis not my trade : But here I stand for right : let him show proofs ! For Roman right ! though none, it seems, dare stand To take their share with me. Ay, cluster there ! Cling to your master — judges, Romans — slaves ! His charge is false ! I dare him to his proofs ! You have my answer ; let my actions speak ! Cic. (Interrupting^) Deeds shall convince you ! Has the traitor done ? 478 sterling's southern orator. Cat. But this I will avow, that I have scorned, And still do scorn, to hide my sense of wrong ; Who brands me on the forehead, breaks my sword, Or lays the bloody scourge upon my back, "Wrongs me not half so much as he who shuts The gates of honor on me — turning out The Roman from his birthright — and for what? To fling your offices to every slave ; {looking around him /) Vipers, that creep where man disdains to climb ; And having wound their loathsome track to the top Of this huge, mouldering monument of Rome, Hang hissing at the nobler men below. Cic. This is his answer ! Must I bring more proofs ? Fathers, you know there lives not one of us, But lives in peril of his midnight sword. Lists of proscription have been handed round, In which your properties are made Your murderer's hire. {A cry without, " More prisoners /" Enter an officer, with letters for Cicero, who^ after looking at them, sends them around the senate.) Cic. Fathers of Rome ! If men can be convinced By proof as clear as daylight, here it is ! Look on these letters ! Here's a deep-laid plot To wreck the provinces ; a solemn league, Made with all form and circumstance. The time Is desperate — all the slaves are up — Rome shakes ! — The heavens alone can tell how near our graves We stand even here ! The name of Catiline Is foremost in the league. He was their king. Tried and convicted traitor ! Go from Rome ! Cat. {Rising haughtily.) Come, consecrated lictors, from your thrones ! Fling down your sceptres ! — take the rod and axe, And make the murder, as you make the law ! Cic. (To an officer, and interrupting Catiline.) Give up the record of his banishment. {The officer gives it to the consul.) • Cat. { With indignation.) Banished from Rome ! What's banished, but set free From daily contact of the things I loathe ? " Tried and convicted traitor !" — who says this ? Who'll prove it, at his peril, on my head ? sterling's southern orator. 479 Banished ? I thank you for it ! It breaks my chain ! I held some slack allegiance till this hour — But now my sword's my own. Smile on, my lords ! I scorn to count what feelings, withered hopes, Strong provocations, bitter, burning wrongs, I have within my heart's hot cells shut up, To leave you in your lazy dignities ! But here I stand and scoff you ! — here I fling Hatred and full defiance in your face ! Your consul's merciful. For this, all thanks ! — He dares not touch a hair of Catiline ! Consul. (Heads.) "Lucius Sergius Catiline! by the decree of the senate, you are declared an enemy and alien to the state, and banished from the territory of the com- monwealth !" {Turning to the lictors.) Lictors, drive the traitor from the temple ! Cat. (Frantic.) " Traitor !" I go ; but I return ! This trial !— , Here I devote your senate ! — I've had wrongs, To stir a fever in the blood of age, And make the infant's sinews strong as steel. This day's the birth of sorrows ! This hour's work Will breed proscriptions ! Look to your hearths, my lords ! For there henceforth shall sit, for household gods, Shapes hot from Tartarus ! — all shames and crimes ; Wan Treachery, with his thirsty dagger drawn ; Suspicion, poisoning his brother's cup ; Naked Rebellion, with the torch and axe, Making his wild sport of your blazing thrones ; Till Anarchy comes down on you like night, And Massacre seals Rome's eternal grave ! Senators. (Rising in confusion, cry out.) Go, enemy and parricide, from Rome ! Cic. Expel him, lictors ! Clear the senate-house ! Cat. (Struggling through the lictors surrounding him.) I go ! but not to leap the gulf alone. I go ! but when I come 'twill be the burst Of ocean in the earthquake — rolling back In swift and mountainous ruin ! Fare you well ! You build my funeral pile, but your best biood Shall quench its flame ! (To the lictors.) Back, slaves ! I will return. (Exeunt.) 480 sterling's southern orator. CCCLVI. HOME AND LOVE.— Miss Mitfokd. Hienzi. Claudia — :nay, start not ! Thou art sad to-day ; I found thee sitting idly, 'mid thy maids ; A pretty, laughing, restless band, who plied Quick tongue and nimble finger. Mute, and pale As marble, those unseeing eyes were fixed On vacant air ; and that fair brow was bent As sternly as if the rude stranger, thought, Age-giving, mirth-destroying, pitiless thought, Had knocked at thy young, giddy brain. Claudia. Nay, father, Mock not thine own poor Claudia, Hie. Claudia used To bear a merry heart with that clear voice, Prattling, and that light, busy foot, astir In her small housewifery, the blithest bee That ever wrought in hive. Cla. O mine old home ! Hie. What ails thee, lady-bird ? Cla. Mine own dear home ! Father, I love not this new state ; these halls, Where comfort dies in vastness ; these trim maids, Whose service wearies me. O mine old home ! My quiet, pleasant chamber, with the myrtle Woven round the casement ; and the cedar by, Shading the sun ; my garden overgrown With flowers and herbs, thickset as grass in fields ; My pretty, snow-white doves ; my kindest nurse ; And old Camillo. O mine own dear home ! Hie. Why, simple child, thou hast thine old, fond nurse. And good Camillo, and shalt have thy doves, Thy myrtles, flowers, and cedars : a whole province Laid in a garden, if thou wilt. My Claudia, Hast thou not learnt thy power ? Ask orient gems, Diamonds, and sapphires, in rich caskets, wrought By cunning goldsmiths ; sigh for rarest birds, Of furthest Ind, like winged flowers to flit Around thy stately bower ; and, at thy wish, The precious toys shall wait thee. Old Camillo ? STERLING'S SOUTHERN ORATOR. 481 Thou shalt have nobler servants ; emperors, kings, Electors, princes ! Not a bachelor In Christendom but would right proudly kneel To my fair daughter. Cla, O mine own dear home ! Hie. Wilt have a list to choose from ? Listen, sweet ! If the tall cedar, and the branchy myrtle, And the white doves, were tell-tales, I would ask them, Whose was the shadow on the sunny Avail ? And if at eventide they heard not oft A tuneful mandolin ; and then, a voice Clear in its manly depth, whose tide of song O'erwhelmed the quivering instrument ; and then, A world of whispers, mixed with low response, Sweet, short, and broken as divided strains Of nightingales. « Cla. O father ! father ! {Runs to him and falls upon Hie. Well ! his neck?) Dost love him, Claudia ? Cla. Father! Hie. Dost thou love Young Angelo ? Yes ? Saidst thou yes ? That heart, That throbbing heart of thine, keeps such a coil, I cannot hear thy words. He is returned To Rome ; he left thee on mine errand, dear one ; And now, is there no casement, myrtle-wreathed, No cedar in our courts, to shade to-night The lover's song ? Cla. O father ! father ! Hie. Now, Back to thy maidens, with a lightened heart, Mine own beloved child. Thou shalt be first Li Rome, as thou art fairest ; never princess Brought to the proud Colonna such a dower As thou. Young Angelo hath chosen his mate From out an eagle's nest. Cla, Alas ! alas ! I tremble at the height. Whene'er I think Of the hot barons, of the fickle people, And the inconstancy of power, I tremble For thee, dear father. Hie. Tremble ? Let them tremble. I am their master, Claudia, whom they scorned, 21 482 sterling's southern orator. Endured, protected. Sweet, go dream of love ! I am their master, Claudia. CCCLVII. DRESS AND ASSURANCE.— Bkonson's Elocution. George. How are you, Dick ? Why, what's the matter, boy ? Whose sins are you lamenting now ? Richard. Yours, George. I cannot but tremble for you, when I consider what must be the inevitable consequence of your present line of conduct. Geo. Pshaw, Dick. Jfow, don't, my good fellow, distress yourself on my account, for I am determined to enjoy life, and I should be sorry to have my enjoyment xhe source of pain to an old friend. Rich. What do you mean by enjoyment? Geo. Enjoyment ! Why, plenty of all the good things of this world, and a comfortable sit down, now and then, with one's friends. Rich. But you do not recollect that your resources are by no means equal to your dress, and other extraordinary expenses. Geo. We bloods look to our dress for resources and not to our resources for dress, as you do. Rich. Can you do this honestly ? Geo. Hon-est-ly ! {Drawling it out.) We have no such word in our vocabulary. Rich. So it would seem. But, tell me, how do you con- trive to keep up such an appearance of wealth and fashion, when I can barely subsist ? What is the chief requisite ? Geo. Assurance, my dear. Lay in a good stock of assur- ance, and you have a mine at your disposal. Rich. But will assurance clothe me ? Geo. Yes, and feed you, too. Hark ye, Dick. If your clothes are worn out, or unfashionable, go to a tailor, and order a suit of the best cloth, to be sent to your lodgings. Say nothing about the price, mind you — say nothing about that. None but the vulgar, who intend to pay, ever say any thing about the price. STERLING S SOUTHERN ORATOR. 483 Rich. Well, but must not I pay for them ? Geo. Pay for them? No, man. When Pricklouse calls for his money, order another suit. Try this expedient till he refuses to work for you, then swear at him for, a trouble- some puppy, and forbid him your house. Rich. Clothes, however, are not all I shall need. Geo. That's true, Dick. But they will procure every thing else. What's a man without clothes ? A smooth shilling, that hardly passes for what it really weighs, while every body gives currency to one fresh from the mint. Clothes, Dick, are a sine qua non with us bloods. Rich. How so ? Every body appears to laugh at your fashionable trim, and to wonder how you dare appear so ridiculous. Geo. Yes ; and yet the same poople do us homage. No door is closed against a fine coat. Few tradesmen inquire how we came by it ; and where is the lady who does not prefer it to an old, unfashionable one, let who will be in it ? Rich. But still I should appear awkward in company. Geo. Not if you have assurance. An impudent fellow may do a thousand awkward things that would ruin a modest man. Nay, Dick, we sometimes have our blunders imitated. You recollect the story of Lord Spencer, who, losing the skirts of his coat accidentally, had assurance enough to wear what was left on his shoulders, and obtain- ed the honor of introducing the garment which bears his name. Rich. He was more successful than the fox we read of in the fable, who, having lost his tail, wished to persuade his brethren of the inutility of that appendage. Geo. He was ashamed of his loss, Dick. Depend upon it, that fox wanted assurance. But my principles are gaining ground fast ; or how else can you account for the fact, that men of threescore are turning fops, and most of the rising generation attend to nothing but dress ? Time was when the cloak and surtout were the peculiar garb of manhood. Now no boy is without them. Rich. You might add, that drinking and tobacco, gam- ing and debt, were once the vices of man ; but now every fashionable urchin can drink his bottle, smoke his cigar, and bet like a gamester. Of debts, I have nothing to add to the description you have just given me. Geo. You have omitted one accomplishment, however. 484: sterling's southern orator. The lad of fashion must swear a little. Nothing will show one's consequence like a volley of oaths, now and then. But dress is the rem»te cause of all this. I am sorry to own it, but you seldom see a man of sense who is a fop. When you dress a calf's head, you must always take out the brains. Rich. But how do all these consequences proceed from dress ? Geo. I will tell you, since I have begun to reveal our secrets. The time was, Dick, when modesty was consider- ed an accomplishment in children, and deference to their superiors a duty. But now, almost as soon as they can walk, children are expected to get rid of their modesty, and learn to disregard the presence of their elders and superiors. Rich. How does this affect their dress ? Geo. The competition commences at school; and then, as the tuition will be lost without practice, and there is some fear of the lad's relapsing into his former modesty, he must be introduced into company, and frequent balls and assemblies, where dress is indispensable. And as, with a genteel coat and a thorough knowledge of the capacity of his heels, he meets with a better reception than real worth does in a plain garb, it is no wonder that so many of our young men decorate their persons, instead of adorning their minds, and parade at the corners of our streets, instead of attending to their business or studies. Rich. But is not all this an argument against dress? Geo. Yes, Dick ; but what has argument to do with fash- ion ! You might as well talk of reason to the idiot who is not a subject of it. Rich. Do you ever consider what the endoi all this folly must necessarily be ? Geo. Oh, no ! Futurity is another word we have nothing to do with. But I have made my confessions, and have no idea of hearing a lecture upon them. So, good-by to you. The first glass I drink shall be to your health and reforma- tion. Rich. You had better continue thirsty, and promote your own. I thank you, however, for the hints you have given me ; and, I trust, in future, I shall remain contented with my obscurity, and no longer envy those whose exterior is their only recommendation. sterling's southern orator. 485 ccclviii. THE THING THAT'S RIGHT.— Anonymous. Landlord. This is my new boarder coming this way. I wonder what his business is in town. At home, though, I will be bound he is a major, colonel, deacon, or squire. I will try to find out his business. By his important airs, he thinks himself somebody. (Enter General Punlcin.) Land. Good morning, sir. A fine day. General. Sir, your servant. Land. Is there any news abroad ? Gen. Nothing important, I believe. But I have been too busily engaged to look for news. Land. Purchasing goods, perhaps ? Gen. No ; I had a point to carry in the House ; and when I do a thing, I make a business of it. Land. Then I have the honor of a member of the Legisla- ture in my family ? ' Gen. Yes, sir ; I represent the county of Bunkum ; elect- ed by six hundred and fifty-six majority. Land. You have probably had warm work in the House to-day ? Gen. Yes, pretty warm; but we clean beat them in the argument. Land. You took an active part in the debate, then ? Gen. Not exactly; for those lawyers talked so fast, I could not get a word in edgeways. However, I jogged a member from Blarney, and put him up to saying a smart thing or two. Land. Are you fond of public speaking ? Gen. Yes ; I always make a speech to my regiment every muster-day, for, you must know, I am a bit of a soldier at home ; but somehow or other, whenever \ rise to speak in the House, I feel something in my throat which says, l< Gen- eral, hold your tongue," and as I cannot speak a word, I take the advice. Land. That is prudent in you. Gen. Why, you see, I always mean to speak to the point, 486 sterling's southern orator. and while I am condensing my ideas, up jumps somebody and gets the start of me. Land. You are as bad as the lame man at the pool of troubled water ; but you will get used to it in time. Gen. Yes, so I tell my wife. Now, says I, wife, when I go to ,* I mean to do the thing that's right. And when I was getting ready, my wife, says she, " General," (for my wife always calls me General,) " General," says she, " you must have a ruffle put on your shirt, as Squire Smart has." Now, I don't care nothing about such things myself, but my wife, says she, " you must do as other folks do." Well, says I, I mean to do the thing that's right — and so, you see, she ruffled two of the best linen ones — I always wear cotton at home, and a body must have a change, you know. Land. Your wife knows what gentility is. Gen. Yes, as our preacher says, " General," says he, 4i your wife's a woman." And so she is, though I say it that should not say it. Land. Why did you not bring her down with you ? Gen. She asked me, but, says I, my dear, a good soldier leaves his \fafe at home, when he goes on duty, and I always wnsh to do the thing that's right, you know. Land. Did you take part in the debate on the penal code ? Gen. No ; you see I don't know nothing about those things, and as, I had not slept any the night before, I took a nap in the lobby, Land. But you voted when the question was taken ? Gen. Oh, yes, for my name was called. Land. How could you determine on which side to vote ? Gen. Why, you see, I watched the leading member of our party, and voted as he did, for he generally does the thing that's right. Land. You said that you had a measure to carry through the Legislature. Is it of importance ? Gen. Yes. You must know there's a brook between our county and the next, and we wanted to steal a march on them, and get an act passed to prevent the other side from fishing in it, so y # ou see they chose me to come and look to it. Not that I wanted to come, but having a little notion or two to buy for my store, says I to my wife, I wish to do the thing that's right, and I'll go. * Here let the speaker insert the name of the capital of his own State. sterling's southern orator. 487 Land. Was this important question settled to-day ? Gen. Why, not exactly settled, as a body may say, for some one moved that the question be postponed till the thirty-first instant, and, having a little business to do down town, I seconded the motion, you see, and it was carried ; and I am glad of it, for I wish to do the thing that's right, and the other party cannot say I hurried them. Land. So I should think ; for, if they wait until February has thirty-one days, they will have no reason to complain. Gen. How is that? How — how — how's that? Have they outgeneralled me, after all ? " Tnirty days hath September, April, June, and November." I learned that when I was a boy. Faith they have gained the day. Land. Yes, or the month has. What a kettle of fish you have cooked for your constituents ! Gen. Why, between you and me, they had as good a right to the fish there as we had, and no doubt Providence over- ruled the business ; for,^s our minister says, He always does the thing that's right. CCCLIX. FROM THE COMEDY OF " MONEY."— Bulwer. (Evelyk, a rich man of fashion. Stout and Glossmore, violent politicians of opposite parties. Sharp, a lawyer?) Enter Evelyn, meeting Stout, who comes in out of breath with haste. Sharp is seated at a desk. Evelyn. Stout, you look heated ! Stmt, (icith great eagerness, but pompously?) I hear you have bought the great Groginhole property. Evelyn. It is true. Sharp says it's a bargain. Stout. Well, my dear friend Hopkins, member for Grog- inhole, can't live another month — excellent creature, the dearest friend I have in the world, — but the interests of mankind forbid regret for individuals ! Po^ins intends to 488 sterling's southern orator. start for the borough the instant Hopkins is dead ! — your interest will secure his election. Now is your time ! put yourself forward in the march of enlightenment ! — By all that's bigoted, here comes Glossmore ! [Enter Glossmore.) Gloss, (eagerly.) So lucky to find you at home ! Hopkins of Groginhole is not long for this world. Popkins, the brewer, is already canvassing underhand, (so very ungentle- man like.) Keep your interest for young Lord Cipher — a most valuable candidate. This is an awful moment — the constitution depends on his return ! Vote for Cipher ! /Stout. Popkins is your man. Evelyn, (musing.) Cipher and Popkins — Popkins and Cipher. Enlightenment and Popkins — Cipher and the Con- stitution ! I am puzzled ! Stout, I am not known at Grog- inhole. Stout. Tour property's known there ! Evelyn. But purity of election — independence of vo- ters — Stout. To be sure. Cipher bribes abominably. Frus- trate his schemes — preserve the liberties of the borough — turn every man out of his house who votes against enlight- enment and Popkins. Evelyn. Right ! down with those who take the liberty to admire any liberty except our liberty ! That is liberty ! Gloss. Cipher has a stake in the country — will have fifty thousand a year — Cipher will never give a vote without considering beforehand how people of fifty thousand a year will be affected by the motion. Evelyn. Right: for as without law there would be no property, so to be the law for property is the only proper property of law ! That is law ! Stout. Popkins is all for economy: there's a sad waste of the public money — they give the Speaker five thousand a year, when I have a brother-in-law who takes the chair at the vestry, and who assures me confidentially he'd consent to be Speaker for half the money. . Gloss. Enough, Mr. Stout. Mr. Evelyn has too much at stake for a leveller. Stout. And too much sense for a bigot. Gloss. A bigot, sir ! Stout. Yes, a bigot ! (Puts his hat on, and with his hands in his pockets looks fiercely at Glossmore). sterling's southern orator. 489 Evelyn, {laughing.) Mr. Evelyn has no politics at all. Did you ever play at battledore ? Both. Battledore! Evelyn. Battledore — -that is, a contest between two par- ties: both parties knock about something with singular skill — something is kept up — high — low — here — there — everywhere — nowhere ! How grave are the players ! how anxious the bystanders ! how noisy the battledores ! But, when this something falls to the ground, only fancy — it is nothing but cork and feather! — Go and play by your- selves — I'm no hand at it. Stout, {aside.) Sad ignorance ! Aristocrat ! Gloss, {aside.) Heartless principles ! Parvenu ! Stout. Then you don't go against us? I'll bring Pop- kins to-morrow. Gloss. Keep yourself free till I present Cipher to you. Stout. I must go to inquire after Hopkins. The return of Popkins will be an era in history. ( Goes out.) Gloss. I must go to the club : the eyes of the country are upon Groginhole. If Cipher fail, the constitution is gone. ( Goes out.) Evelyn. All parties alike ! nothing but money ! Money versus Man ! — Sharp, come here — let me look at you. {Sharp rises from the desk.) — You are my agent, my lawyer, my man of business. I believe you honest ; but w 7 hat is hon- esty ? where does it exist ? in what part of us ? Sharp. In the heart, I suppose, sir. Evelyn. Mr. Sharp, it exists in the breeches' pocket ! Observe, I lay this piece of yellow earth on the table — I contemplate you both; the man there — the gold here. Now, there is many a man in those streets as honest as you are, who moves, thinks, feels, and reasons as we do ; excel- lent in form, imperishable in soul; who, if his pockets were three days empty, would sell thought, reason, body, and soul too, for that little coin ! Is that the fault of the man ? No ! it is the fault of mankind. God made man ; behold what mankind has made a god ! By the by, Sharp, send a hundred pounds to the poor bricklayer whose house was burnt down yesterday. Shaip. Yes, sir. Evelyn, Well, man, don't" stand gaping there: have you no bowels? Go and see to it immediately. {They go out at opposite sides.) 21* 490 sterling's southern* orator. CCCIiX. SCENE FROM PIZARRO.— R. B. Sheridan. Sentinel, Rolla, and Alonzo. {Enter Holla, disguised as a monk,) Holla. Inform me, friend, is Alonzo, the Peruvian, confin- ed in this dungeon ? Sent. He is. Rolla. I must speak with him. Sent. You must not. Holla. He is my friend. Sent. Not if he were your brother. Holla. What is to be his fate ? Sent. He dies at sunrise. Holla. Ha ! then I am come in time — Sent. Just to witness his death. Holla. {Advancing toward the door.) Soldier, I must speak with him. Sent. {Pushing him bach.) Back ! back ! it is impossible. Holla. I do entreat you but for one moment. - Sent. You entreat in vain ; my orders are most strict. Holla. Look on this wedge of massy gold ; look on these precious gems. In thy land they will be wealth for thee and thine beyond thy hope or wish. Take them — they are thine ; let me but pass one moment with Alonzo. Sent. Away ! Wouldst thou corrupt me ? — me, an old Castilian ! I know my duty better. Holla. Soldier, hast thou a wife ? Sent. I have. Holla. Hast thou children ? Sent. Four — honest, lovely boys. Holla. Where didst thou leave them? Sent. In my native village, in the very cot where I was born. Holla. Dost thou love thy wife and children ? Sent. Do I love them ? God knows my heart — I do. Holla. Soldier, imagine thou wert doomed to die a cruel death in a strange land — what would be thy last request ? Sent. That some of my comrades should carry my dying blessing to my wife and children. sterling's southern orator. 491 Holla. What if that comrade was at thy prison door, and should there be told thy fellow-soldier dies at sunrise, yet thou shalt not for a moment see him, nor shalt thou bear his dying blessing to his poor children or his wretched wife — what wouldst thou think of him who thus could drive thy comrade from the door ? JSmt.JIow? Holla. Alonzo has a wife and child ; and I am come but to receive for her, and for her poor babe, the last blessing of my friend. Sent. Go in. {Exit sentinel.) Holla. ( Calls.) Alonzo ! Alonzo ! {Enter Alonzo, speaking as he comes in.) Alon. How ! is my hour elapsed ? Well, I am ready. Holla. Alonzo ! — know me ! Alon. Rolla ! O Rolla ! how didst thou \^ass the guard ? Holla. There is not a moment to be lost in words. This disguise I tore from the dead body of a friar, as I passed our field of battle. It has gained me entrance to thy dungeon : now take it, thou, and fly ! Alon. And Rolla — • Holla. Will remain here in thy place. Alon. And die for me ! No ! rather eternal tortures rack me. Holla. I shall not die, Alonzo. It is thy life Pizzaro seeks, not Rolla's, and thy arm may soon deliver me from prison. Or, should it be otherwise, I am as a blighted tree in the desert ; nothing lives beneath my shelter. Thou art a husband and a father : the being of a lovely wife and help- less infant depend upon thy life. Go, go, Alonzo ! not to save thyself, but Cora and thy child. Alon. Urge me not thus, my friend. I am prej)ared to die in peace. Holla. To die in peace ! devoting her you have sworn to live for, to madness, misery, and death ! Alon. Merciful Heavens ! Holla. If thou art yet irresolute, Alonzo — now mark me well. Thou knowest that Rolla never pledged his word and shrunk from its fulfilment. Know, then, if thou art proudly obstinate, thou shalt have the desperate triumph of seeing Rolla perish by thy side. Alon. O Rolla ! you distract me. Wear you the robe, 492 sterling's southern orator. and though dreadful the necessity, we will strike down the guard, and force our passage. Holla. What, the soldier on duty here ? Alon. Yes, else seeing two, the alarm will be instant death. Holla. For my nation's safety, I would not harm him. That soldier — mark me — is a man. All are not rnen that wear the human form. He refused my prayers, refused my gold, denying to admit, till his own feelings bribed him. I will not risk a hair of that man's head to save my heart- strings from consuming fire. But haste. A moment's fur- ther pause, and all is lost. Alon. Rolla, I fear thy friendship drives me from honor and from right. Rolla. Did Rolla ever counsel dishonor to his friend? {Throwing the friar's garment over his shoulders.) There, conceal thy face. Now, God be with thee. CCCIjXI. CLAUDIA PLEADING FOR HER HUSBAND.— Miss Mitford, Claudia. [Without.) Father! father! Jiienzi. Guard the door ! Be sure ye give not way. Cla. ( Without.) Father ! Hie. To see Her looks ! her tears ! (Miter Claudia hastily.) Cla. Who dares to stop me ? Father ! (Rushes into the arms of Rienzi.) Rie. I bade ye guard the entrance. Cla. Against me ? Ye must have men and gates of steel, to bar Claudia from her dear father. Where is he? They said he was with you — he — thou know'st Whom I would say. I heard you loud. I thought I heard you ; but, perchance, the dizzying throb Of my poor temples — Where is he ! I see No corse — if he were dead — Oh, no, no, no ! Thou could'st not, would'st not ! — say he lives ! sterling's southern orator. 493 Hie. As yet He lives. Cla. Oh, blessings on thy heart, dear father ! Blessings on thy kind heart ! When shall I see him ? Is he in prison ? Fear hath made me weak, And wordless as a child. Oh, send for him. Thou hast pardoned him ; didst thou not say but now Thou hadst pardoned him? Hie. No. Cla. Oh, thou hast ! thou hast ! This is the dalliance thou wast wont to hold When I have craved some girlish boon, a bird, A flower, a moonlight walk ; but now I ask thee Life, more than life. Thou hast pardoned him? Hie. My Claudia ! Cla. Ay ! 1 am thine own Claudia, whose first word Was father ! These are the same hands that clung Around thy knees, a tottering babe ; the lips That, ere they had learned speech* would smile, and seek To meet thee with an infant's kiss ; these eyes Thou hast called so like my mother's, eyes that never Looked on thee but with looks of love. Oh, pardon ! Nay, father, speak not yet ; thy brows are knit Into a sternness. Pr'ythee speak not yet ! Hie. This traitor— Cla. Call him as thou wilt, but pardon ! Oh, pardon ! Hie. He defies me. Cla. See, I kneel. And be shall kneel, shall kiss thy feet ; wilt pardon ? Hie. Mine own dear Claudia. Cla. Pardon ! Hie. Raise thee up ; Rest on my bosom ; let thy beating heart Lie upon mine : so shall the mutual pang Be stilled. Oh, that thy father's soul. could bear This grief for thee, my sweet one ! Oh, forgive — Cla. Forgive thee what ? 'Tis so the headsman speaks To his poor victim ere he strikes* Do fathers Make widows of their children ? send them down To the cold grave, heart-broken ? Tell me not Of fathers — I have none ! All else that breathes Hath known that natural love; the wolf is kind 494 sterling's southern orator. To her vile cubs ; the little wren hath care For each small young one of her brood ; and thou — The word that widowed, orphaned me ! Henceforth My home shall be his grave ; and yet thou canst not — Father ! [Rushing into BienzVs arms.) Bie. Ay ! Dost call me father once again, my Claudia, Mine own sweet child ! Cla. O father ! pardon him ! Oh, pardon, pardon ! 'Tis my life I ask In his. Our lives, dear father ! Hie. Ho, Camillo ! Where loiters he? {Enter Camillo.) Camillo, take my ring ; Fly to the captain of the guard, Alberti; Bid him release Lord Angelo, Cla. Now bless thee, Bless thee, my father ! Bie. Fly, Camillo, fly! Why loiterest thou ? Cam. The ring ! (Rienzi gives the ring to Camillo. Exit Camillo.) CCCLXII. MILLER OF MANSFIELD.— Anonymous. King, Miller, Courtier. King. {Enter alone, wrapped in a cloak.) No, no, this can be no public road, that's certain. I have lost my way undoubtedly. Of what advantage is it now to be a king ? Night shows me no respect ; I cannot see better, nor walk so well as another man. When a king is lost in a wood, what is he more than other men ? His wisdom knows not which is north and which" is south ; his power a beggar's dog would bark at, and the beggar himself would not bow to his greatness. And yet how often are we puffed up with these false attributes ! Well, in losing the monarch, I have found the man. But, hark ! somebody sure is near. What were it best to do ? Will my majesty protect me ? No. Throw majesty aside, then, and let manhood do it. sterling's southern orator. 495 (Enter the Miller.) Miller. I believe I hear the rogue. Who's there ? King. No rogue, I assure you. Miller. Little better, friend, I believe. Who fired that gun? King. Not I, indeed. Miller. You lie, I believe. King. (Aside.) Lie, lie ! How strange it seems to me to be talked to in this style ! (Aloud.) Upon my word, I don't, sir. Miller. Come, come, sirrah, confess. You have shot one of the king's deer, haven't you ? King. No, indeed ; I owe the king more respect. I heard a gun go off, to be sure, and was afraid some robbers might have been near. Miller. I am not bound to believe this, friend. Pray, who are you ? What's your name ? King. Name ! Miller. Name ! — ay, name. . You have a name, haven't you ? Where do you come from? What is your business here ? King. These are questions I have not been used to, honest man. Miller. May be so ; but they are questions no honest man would be afraid to answer ; so, if you can give no better account of yourself, I shall make bold to take you along with me, if you please. King. With you ! What authority have you to Miller. The king's authority. If I must give ^ou an ac- count, sir, I am John Cockle, the miller of Mansfield, one of his majesty's keepers in the forest of Sherwood ; and I will let no suspicious fellow pass this way, unless he can give a better account of himself than you have done, I promise you. King. Very well, sir. I am very glad to hear the king has so good an officer ; and, since I find you have his author- ity, I will give you a better account of myself, if you will do me the favor to hear it. Miller. You don't deserve it, I believe; but let's hear what you can say for yourself. King. I have the honor to belong to the king as well as you, and perhaps should be as unwilling to see any wrong done him. I came down with him to hunt in this forest, 496 sterling's southern orator. and the chase leading us to-day a great way from home, I am benighted in this wood, and have lost my way. Miller. This does not sound well. If you have been a-hunting, pray where is your horse ? King. I have tired my horse so that he lay down under me, and I was obliged to leave him. Miller. If I thought I might believe this, now King. I am not used to lie, honest man. Miller. What ! do you live at court, and not lie ? That's a likely story, indeed ! King. Be that as it will, I speak truth now, I assure you ; and, to convince you of it, if you will attend me to Notting- ham, or give me a night's lodging in your house, here is something to pay you for your trouble — -{offering money) — and, if that is not sufficient, I will satisfy you in the morning to your utmost desire. Miller. Ay, now I am convinced you are a courtier : here is a little bribe for to-day, and a large promise for to-morrow, both in a breath. Here, take it again — John Cockle is no courtier. He can do what he ought without a bribe. King. Thou art a very extraordinary man, I must own, and I should be glad, methinks, to be further acquainted with thee. Miller. Prithee, don't thee and thou me at this rate. I suppose I am as good a man as yourself, at least. King. Sir, I beg pardon. Miller. Nay, I am not angry, friend ; only I don't love to be too familiar with you until I am satisfied as to your honesty. King. You are right. But what am I to do ? Miller. You may do what you please. You are twelve miles from Nottingham, and all the way through this thick wood ; but, if you are resolved upon going thither to-night, I will put you in the road, and direct you the best I can ; or, if you will accept of such poor entertainment as a miller can give, you shall be welcome to stay all night, and in the morning I will go with you myself. King. And cannot you go with me to-night ? Miller. I would not go with you to-night if you were the king himself. King. Then I must go with you, I think. (Enter a courtier, in haste.) sterling's southern orator. 497 Courtier. Ah, is your majesty safe ? We have hunted the forest over to find you. Miller. How! are you the king ? {Kneels.) Your majesty ■will pardon the ill usage you have received. (The King draws his sword.) His majesty surely will not kill a servant for doing his duty too faithfully. King. No, my good fellow. So far from having any thing to pardon, I am much your debtor. I cannot but think so good and honest a man will make a -worthy and honorable knight. Rise, Sir John Cockle, and receive this sword as a badge of knighthood, and a pledge of my protection ; and to support your nobility, and in some measure requite you for the pleasure you have done us, a thousand crowns a year shall be your revenue. CCCLXIII. BAFFLED REVENGE.— Shakespeare. ( Ix this scene from the " Merchant of Venice," Shylock, a Jew, wishes to seeing the death of Antonio, by requiring the fulfilment of a bond, the forfeiture of which was a pound of flesh cut from nearest the heart, in case Antonio failed to pay the debt. Bassanio is the friend of Antonio. Portia is the wife of Bassanio, disguised as a lawyer from Padua.) (Enter Portia, dressed like a doctor of laws.) Duke. Give me your hand : came you from old Bellario ? Por. I did, my lord. Puke. You are welcome : take your place. Are you acquainted with the difference That holds this present question in the court ? Por. I am informed thoroughly of the cause. "Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew ? Puke. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth ! Por. Is your name Shylock? Shy. Shylock is my name. Por. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow ; Yet in such a rule, that the Venetian law Cannot impugn you, as you do proceed. — You stand within his danger, do you not? (To Antonio.) Ant. Ay, so he says. 498 sterling's southern orator. Por. Do you confess the bond ? Ant. I do. Por. Then must the Jew be merciful. Shy. On what compulsion must I? tell me that. Por. The quality of mercy is not strained ; It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath : it is twice blessed ; It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown ; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this — That in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation : we do pray for mercy ; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. I have spoke Ijps much, To mitigate the justice of thy plea ; Which, if thou follow, this strict court of Venice Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. Shy. My deeds upon my head ! I crave the law, The penalty and forfeit of my bond. Por. Is he not able to discharge the money ? Pass. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court ; Yea, twice the sum : if that will not suffice, I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart: If this will not suffice, it must appear That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you, Wrest once the law to your authority : To do a great right do a little wrong ; And curb this cruel devil of his will. Por. It must not be ; there is no power in Venice Can alter a decree established : 'Twill be recorded for a precedent ; And many an error, by the same example, Will rush into the state : it cannot be. sterling's southern orator. 499 Shy. A Daniel come to judgment ! yea, a Daniel ! O wise young judge, how do I honor thee ! Por. I pray you, let me look uptm the bond. Shy. Here it is, most reverend doctor, here it is. , Por. Shylock, there's thrice thy money offered thee. Shy. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven : Shall I lay perjury upon my soul? No, not for Venice. Por. Why, this bond is forfeit ; And lawfully by this the Jew may claim A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off Nearest the merchant's heart : — Be merciful ; Take thrice thy money ; bid me tear the bond. Shy. When it is paid according to the tenor. — It doth appear, you are a worthy judge; You know the law, your exposition Hath been most sound : I charge you by the law, Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, Proceed to judgment : by my soul I swear There is no power in the tongue of man To alter me : I stay here on my bond. Ant. Most heartily I do beseech the court To give the judgment. Por. Why, then, thus it is. You must prepare your bosom for his knife. Shy. O noble judge ! O excellent young man ! Por. For the intent and purpose of the law Hath full relation to the penalty, Which here appeareth due upon the bond. Shy. 'Tis very true. O wise and upright judge ! How much more elder art thou than thy looks ! Por. Therefore lay bare your bosom. Shy. Ay, his breast : So says the bond ; doth it not, noble judge ? Nearest his heart ; those are the very words. Por. It is so. Are there balance here, to weigh The flesh? Shy. I have them ready. Por. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death. Shy. Is it so nominated in the bond ? Por. It is not so expressed ; but what of that ? 'Twere good you do so much for charity. 500 sterling's southern orator. Shy. I cannot find it ; 'tis not in the bond. Por. Come, merchant, have you any thing to say? Ant. But little; I am*armed, and well prepared. Give me your hand, Bassanio ; fare you well ! Repent not you that you shall lose your friend, And he repents not that he pays your debt ; For, if the Jew do cut but deep enough, I'll pay it instantly with all my heart. Por. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine; The court awards it, and the law doth give it. Shy. Most rightful judge ! ' Por. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast; The law allows it, and the court awards it. Shy. Most learned judge ! A sentence ! come, prepare. Por. Tarry a little : there is something else. This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood ; The words expressly are, a pound of flesh : Take, then, thy bond ; take thou thy pound of flesh; But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate Unto the state of Venice. Gratiano. O upright judge! — Mark, Jew! — O learned judge ! Shy. Is that the law ? Por. Thyself shalt see the act ; For, as thou urgest justice, be assured, Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest. Gra. O learned judge ! Mark, Jew ! a learned judge ! Shy. I take this offer, then ; pay the bond thrice, And let the Christian go. Pas. Here is the money ! Por. Soft ! The Jew shall have all justice ! soft ! no haste ! He shall have nothing but the penalty. Gra. O Jew ! an upright judge, a learned judge ! Por. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh. Shed thou no blood : nor cut thou less, nor more, But just a pound of flesh. If thou takest more, Or less, than just a pound — be it but so much As makes it light or heavy in the substance, Or the division of the twentieth part Of one poor scruple ; nay, if the scale do turn <* STERLING S SOUTHERN ORATOR. 501 But in the estimation of a hair — Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate. Gra. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew ! Now infidel, I have thee on the hip. Por. Why doth the Jew pause ? Take thy forfeiture. Shy. Give me my principal, and let me go. Pas. I have it ready for thee ; here it is. Por. He hath refused it in the open court ; He shall have merely justice, and his bond. Gra. A Daniel, still say I ! a second Daniel ! I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. Shy. Shall I not have barely my principal ? Por. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, To be so taken at thy peril, Jew. Shy. Why, then, the devil give him good of it ! I'll stay no longer question. Por. Tarry, Jew : The law hath yet another hold on you. It is enacted in the laws of Venice, If it be proved against an alien, That, by direct or indirect attempts, He seek the life of any citizen, The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive Shall seize one half his goods ; the other half Comes to the privy coffer of the state ; And the offender's life lies in the mercy Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voiee. In which predicament, I say, thou standest ; For it appears, by manifest proceeding, That, indirectly, and directly too, Thou hast contrived against the very life Of the defendant; and thou hast incurred The danger formerly by me rehearsed. Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke. Gra. Beg that thou may'st have leave to hang thyself: And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, Thou hast not left the value of a cord; Therefore thou must be hanged at the state's charge. Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit, I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it : For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's ; The other half comes to the general state, Which humbleness may drive unto a fine. 502 sterling's southern orator. Por. Ay, for the state ; not for Antonio. Shy. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that : You take my house, when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house ; you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live. Por. What mercy can you render him, Antonio? Gra. A halter gratis ; nothing else ; for Heaven's sake Ant. So please my lord the duke, and all the court, To quit the fine for one half of his goods j I am content, so he will let me have The other half in use — to render it, Upon his death, unto the gentleman That lately stole his daughter ; Two things provided more — That for this favor He presently become a Christian ; The other, that he do record a gift, Here in the court, of all he dies possessed Unto his son Lorenzo, and his daughter. Puke. He shall do this ; or else I do recant The pardon, that I late pronounced here. Por. Aj't thou contented, Jew, what dost thou say ? Shy. I am content. Por. Clerk, draw a deed of gift. Shy. I pray you give me leave to go from hence : I am not well ; send the deed after me, And I will sign it. Puke. Gret thee gone, but do it. APPENDIX. LIST* OF SUBJECTS FOR COMPOSITIONS. BIOGRAPHICAL SUBJECTS. 1. Abraham. 2. Joseph. 3. Moses. 4. Joshua. 5. Miriam. 6. Ruth. 7. Boaz. 8. Esther. 9. David. 10. Daniel. 11. Samson. 12. Solomon. 13. Peter. 14. Paul. 15. Stephen. 16. St. John. 17. Alexander. 18. Caesar. 19. Hannibal. 20. Demosthenes. 21. Cicero. 22. Mark Anthony. 23. Nero. 24. Caligula. 25. Charlemagne. 26. Virgil. 27. Petrarch. 28. Tasso. 29. Pompey. 30. Mohammed. 31. William the Conqueror. 32. Columbus. 33. Sir Walter Raleigh. 34. Sir George Somers. 35. Captain John Smith. 36. Pocahontas. 37. Queen Elizabeth. 38. Mary Queen of Scots. 39. Maria Theresa. 40. Empress Josephine. 41. Queen Victoria. 42. Mary Washington. 43. Isabella of Spain. 44. Bloody Mary. 45. Lord Byron. 46. Sir Walter Scott. 47. Washington. 48. Jefferson. 49. Patrick Henry. 50. Andrew Jackson. 51. Stonewall Jackson. 52. Daniel Webster. 53. Henry Clay. 54. John C. Calhoun. 55. Benjamin Franklin. 56. General Greene. 57. John Milton. 58. Shakespeare. 59. Mrs. Hemans. CO. Florence Nightingale. 501 APPENDIX. HISTORICAL NARRATIVES. 61. Siege of Troy. » 62. Deluge. 63. The Journeyings of the Israelites. 64. Downfall of Babylon. 65. The Norman Conquest. 66. The Invasion of Britain by tne Romans. 67. The Crusades. 68. Discovery of America. 69. Settlement at Jamestown. 70. Persecution of Roger Williams. 71. The American Revolution. 72. The French Revolution. 73. Battle of Guilford Court-House. 74. Surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown. 75. The Continental Congress in 1776. % 76. The Invasion of Russia by Napoleon. 77. Sergeant Champ's Attempt to capture Benedict Arnold. 78. The Destruction of Jerusalem. 79. The Conquest of Mexico by Cortez. 80. The History of Jonah. 81. David and Goliath. DESCRIPTIVE. 82. Mountain Scenery. 83. Niagara Falls. . 84. Mount Washington. 85. The Natural Bridge of Virginia. 86. Pilot Mountain. 87. Hickory-Nut Gap. 88. The Peaks of Otter. 89. A Thunder-Storm in the Mountains. 90. A Snow-Storm. 91. A Landscape. 92. A Storm at Sea. 93. The Everglades of Florida. 94. Prairie. 95. New-Orleans. 96. The Mississippi River. 97. Lake George. 98. The Dismal Swamp in Virginia. 99. Life in the Country. 100. Description of Palestine. MISCELLANEOUS. 101. Spring. 102. Summer. 103. Winter. 104. Flowers. APPENDIX. 505 105. Night. 106. Melancholy. 107. Intemperance and its Effects. 108. Ambition. 109. Self-Government. 110. Patience. 111. Melancholy. 112. The Miseries of War. 113. State Pride. 114. Chivalry. 115. Gambling. 116. Evil Company. 117. Contentment. 118. The Starry Heavens. 119. The Mariner's Compass. 120. The Ruins of Time. 121. Old Age. 122. Female Heroism. 123. True Courage. 124. The History of a Shoe. 125. The History of the Bible. 126. A Mirror a Century Old. 127. The History of a School-Room. 128. My Mother's Picture. 129. The Ocean. 130. A Volcanic Eruption. 131. The Rainbow. 132. Twilight. 133. The Art of Printing. 134. The Steam-Engine. 135. The Electric Telegraph. 136. Novelty. 137. Newspapers. 138. Moon. 139. The Life of a Soldier. 140. The River of Time. 141. The Study of History. 142. The Poetry of the Bible. 143. True Politeness. 144. Female Influence. 145. Humility. 146. Music. 147. The Pleasures of Memory. 148. Peace ! be still ! 149. Poetry. 150. Imagination. 151. Benevolence. 152. Genius. 153. Intrepidity. 154. Ignorance. 155. Perseverance. 156. Riches. 22 508 APPENDIX. ■ 157. True Greatness. 158. Idleness. 159. The Miser. 160. Revenge. 161. The Art of Writing. 162. Parental Affection. 163. Philanthropy. 164. Old Things have passed away. 165. Generosity. 166. Honor. 167. The Power of Association. 168. The Study of the Classics. 169. The Attraction of Gravitation. 170. The Art of Painting. 171. Forgiveness. 172. " Let there be Light! " 173. Dissipation. 174. Cheerfulness. 175. Gardening. 176. Affectation. 177. Eden. 178. The Freedom of the Press. 179. Silent Influence. 180. The True End of Knowledge. 181. The Influence of Local Association. 182. Works of Nature superior to those of Art. 183. Fortitude of the Indian Character. 184. The Influence of the Past. 185. A Mother's Love. 186. The Providence of God in All Things. 187. The Stranger's Grave. 188. Make Hay while the Sun Shines. 189. The Right Improvement of Time. 190. The Present Hour alone is Man's. 191. The Race is not to the Swift. 192. Slow rises Worth by Poverty depressed 193. Only a Fool turns aside to Deceit. 194. A Soft Answer turneth away Wrath. 195. Time brings All Things to Light. 196. The Love of Money the Root of all Evil. 197. Economy is the true Philosopher's Stone. 198. Herculaneum and Pompeii. 199. Decline of the Roman Empire. 200. The Force of Prejudice. 201. The Difficulty of Overcoming Bad Habits. 202. Life is a Voyage. 203. God seen in all the Works of Creation. 204. Superiority of Moral over Natural Beauty. 205. Insufficiency of Genius without Virtue. 206. The Contented are rich ; the Rich are seldom contented. 207. The Scholar's Hope. 208. The Red Man's Wrongs. APPENDIX. 507 209. Joan of Arc. 210. Sir Isaac Newton. 211. Oliver Cromwell. 212. Reading a Means of Intellectual Improvement. 213. Life is short and Art is long. 214. Few and precious are the words which the lips of wisdom utter. 215. Error is a hardy plant, it nourishes in every soil. 216. Be this, then, a lesson to thy soul, that thou reckon nothing worth- less. 217. Cast off the weakness of regret, and gird thee to redeem thy loss. 218. Power is seldom innocent, and envy is the yoke-fellow of emi- nence. 219. Trifles lighter than straws are levers in the building up of char- acter. 220. Memory is not wisdom. 221. Law hath dominion over all things, both mind and matter. 222. God is the origin of order, and the first example of His precept. 223. Be resolute, but not rebellious. 224. Society is a chain of obligations. 225. Deep is the sea, and deep is hell, but pride mineth deeper. 226. Experience teacheth many things, and all men are his scholars. 227. Frail art thou, O man ! as a bubble on the breaker. 228. Angels are round the good man to catch the incense of his prayers. 229. Zeal without judgment is an evil, though it be zeal unto good. 230. Man hath found out inventions to cheat him of the weariness of life. 231. Early piety has many advantages. 232. The vanity of human grandeur. 233. No man lives for himself alone. 334. The soothing power of Music. 235. The Good and the True only endure. 236. Example is more powerful than precept. 237. The Moral Sublime. 238. The Moral Beautiful. 239. American Literature. 240. Shall all things else be mystery, and God alone be understood ? 241. Reflection is a flower of the mind, giving out wholesome fragrance. 242. Better to read little with thought, than much with levity. 243. Speech is the golden harvest that followeth the flowering of thought. 244. Books are the monuments of mind, the concrete wisdom of the wisest. 245. Nothing but may be better, and every better might be best. 246. Acquaint thee with thyself, O man 1 so shalt thou be humble. 247. Choose thy friend discreetly. 248. Lorn ! — what a volume in a word, an ocean in a tear ! 249. A wise man in a crowded street winneth his way by gentleness. 250. The crisis of a man's destiny is now — a still recurring danger. 251. To-morroio is that lamp upon the marsh which a traveller never reacheth. 252. The dignity and responsibility of authorship. 253. Charity sitteth on a fair hill-top, blessing far and near. 508 APPENDIX. 254. Beauty is openness and strength in pure, high-minded youth. 255. Mere beauty of person is the superficial polish of the statue. 256. Flattery sticketh like a burr, holding to the soil with anchors. 257. Praise is good, and honor a treasure to be hoarded. 258. Godliness and contentment are the pillars of felicity. 259. Life is a strange avenue of various trees and flowers. 260. Confidence is the conqueror of men. 261. All is vanity which is not honesty. 262. " Beware of desperate steps ; the darkest day, Live till to-morrow, will have passed away." 263. " There's a Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will." 264. Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate. 265. " Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us." 266. " Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head." 267. " And this our life Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing." 268. There is no place like home, be it ever so humble. 269. " The bolt that strikes the towering cedar dead, Oft passes harmless o'er the hazel's head." 270. " Who by repentance is not satisfied Is not of heaven nor earth." 271. " Honor and shame from no condition rise : Act well your part ; there all the honor lies." 272. " Good name, in man or woman, Is the immediate jewel of their souls." 273. Justice may sleep, but never dies. 274. " Man yields to custom as he bows to fate, In all things ruled — mind, body, and estate. 275. " Experience is the school Where man learns wisdom." 276. All is not gold that glitters. 277. " All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players." 278. " Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt." 279. " The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation ; that away, Men are but gilded loam or painted clay." 280. " The time of life is short ; To spend that shortness basely were too long.'' 281. " Men's evil manners live in brass ; Their virtues we write in water." 282. " The gods are just, and of our vices Make instruments to scourge us." 283. " Who pants for glory finds but short repose , A breath revives him, or a breath o'erthrows." APPENDIX. 509 284. "Mute The camel labors witli the heaviest load, And the wolf dies in silence." 285. " And history with all her volumes vast Hath but one page." 286. " First freedom and then glory — when that fails Wealth, vice, corruption — barbarism at last." 287. " Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless millions mourn." 288. Search the Scriptures. 289. Proof afforded by science of a great, intelligent First Cause. 290. Decision of character. 291. By others' faults wise men learn to correc + their own. 292. Health is the vital principle of bliss. 293. The pleasures of a cultivated taste. 294. " Better bear the ills we have Than fly to those we know not of." 295. Let honesty's unblushing face be shaded with the mantle of hu- mility. 296. A rough diamond is better than the polished paste. 297. Many a fair flower is burdened with preposterous appellatives. 298. Look to thy soul, man ! for none can be surety for his brother. 299. Man, thou art immortal- ! 800. God, from a beautiful necessity, is love in all He doeth. 301. Death in Adam, life in Christ — the curse hung upon the cross. 202. Death, the cold usurer, shall seize his bonded debtor. 303. " Purity of motive and nobility of mind shall rarely condescend To prove its right, and prate of wrongs." 304. " There is a blameless love of fame, springing from desire of j ustice. 305. '* To number every mystery were to sum the sum of all things." 306. Character grows day by day, and all things aid it in unfolding. 307. Imagination is not thought, neither is fancy reflection. 308. There is nothing so true that the damps of error have not warped it. • 309. Refinement a national benefit. 210. The dignity and responsibility of the* teacher's vocation. 311. A rolling stone gathers no moss. 312. He that ruleth his own spirit is greater than he that taketh a city. 313. Charity is an essential part of true religion. 314. It is folly to strive to please every body. 315. Truth is invincible if left to grapple with error on equal terms, 316. The pulpit as a field for eloquence. 317. The future of our country. QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION. 818. Are fictitious writings more beneficial than injurious? 319. Was the feudal system beneficial to civilization ? 320. Ought executions for crime to be in public ? 821. Ought secret political societies to be tolerated? 822. Is emulation a wholesome stimulant in education ? 510 APPENDIX. 823. Is a protective tariff true policy in the Government of the United States ? 324. Is the doctrine of State rights the true theory of the American Government ? 325. Is the allegiance of the citizen due primarily to the State rather than the general government ? 326. Is the story of the Trojan war credible ? 327. Is universal suffrage expedient or wise ? 328. Ought judges to be elected by the people ? 829. Ought the state to provide for the education of all the children within her jurisdiction ? 330. Can the immortality of the soul be proved from the light of nature alone ? 331. Ought religious institutions to be supported by law? 832. Ought the support of the poor to be provided for by the govern- ment ? 333. Should the course of study in academies and colleges be the same for all pupils ? 334. Was Bonaparte greater in the field than in the cabinet ? 335. Can the existence and attributes of God be proved by the light of nature ? 336. Is morality separable from religion ? 337. Was the execution of the Due D'Enghien justifiable ? 338. Ought the United States to establish a national system of educa- tion? 339. Was the execution of the Earl of Essex justifiable ? 340. Under the Constitution of the United States, are representation and taxation inseparable ? 341. Was Mary Queen of Scots justly implicated in the murder of Lord Darnley ? 342. Ought representatives to be bound by the will of their constitu- ents? 343. Ought the sale of ardent spirits, to be used as a beverage, to be prohibited by law ? # 344. Has sectarianism done more to advance than retard the progress of Christianity ? 345. Is there such a thing as disinterested benevolence ? 346. Was the career of Napoleon Bonaparte productive of more goo than evil in Europe ? 347. Is a republican form of government favorable to the cultivation of literature and science. 348. Ought the right of suffrage to be dependent on any property qualification ? 349. Ought military schools to be encouraged ? 350. Was the French Revolution beneficial to the liberties of Europe ? 351. Do mechanical inventions improve the condition of the laboring classes ? 352. Is it expedient for Congress to pass an international copyright law? 353. Do savage nations possess a right to the soil ? 354. Is the mind of woman inferior to that of man ? 355. Did the crusades have a beneficial influence on Europe ? APPENDIX. 511 856. Had tlie Olympic games a favorable influence on ancient Greece ? 357. Is the existence of political parties beneficial to a state ? 358. Is a lawyer j ustifiable in defending a bad cause ? 359. Is political corruption more injurious in government than politi- cal fanaticism ? 360. Did true patriotism require Brutus to engage in the conspiracy against Caesar ? 361. Is the pen mighter than the sword ? 362. Is conscience in all cases a correct moral guide ? 363. Ought the rate of interest on money to be regulated by law ? 364. Ought the man who kills his antagonist in a duel to be punished as a murderer ? 365. Ought clergymen to be excluded from civil offices by law ? 366. Ought an infidel to be allowed to testify in a court of justice ? 367. Does the mind always think ? 368. Ought foreign emigration to be encouraged by the Southern States? 369. Was the political career of Oliver Cromwell beneficial to Eng- land? 370. Was the execution of Charles I. justifiable? 871. Would the equalization of property conduce to the happiness of society ? 372. Is language a human invention ? 373. Was the death of Csesar beneficial to Rome ? 374. Was the reign of Henry VIII. advantageous to the liberties of England ? 375. Was the execution of Mary Queen of Scots justifiable ? 376. Was Cromwell a patriot? 377. Was Alexander a greater general than Napoleon ? 378. Should the laws of justice ever be set aside to favor the cause of humanity ? 379. Can any process of reasoning take place in the mind without the use of language, orally or mentally ? 380. Is science more indebted to Lord Bacon than to Sir Isaac New- ton? 381. Is ingratitude worse than avarice? 382. Was the Danish invasion a benefit to England ? 383. Is the multiplication of works of fiction favorable to the formation of a permanent literature ? 384. Ought Charles I. to be regarded as a Christian martyr? 385. Does history justify Pope in calling Bacon " the meanest of man- kind " ? 386. Were the charges against the Earl of Strafford fairly proven on his trial ? 387. Is extension of territory dangerous to the permanency of the pre- sent government of the United State's ? 388. Was Cromwell superior to Napoleon in the general character of his administration ? 389. In great national struggles has any one a right to be neutral ? 390. Is the art of criticism necessary to the development of genius ? 391. Is it true policy in the government to give land to actual settlers? 392. Was the government justifiable in removing the Indians from their homes ? 512 APPENDIX. 393. Is teaching properly a science ? 394. Are civilized nations justified in seizing and occupying countries inhabited by savages ? 395. Would absolute freedom of opinion be a blessing ? 398. Is increase of wealth favorable to refined morality ? 397. Are the dictates of a man's conscience of higher authority than human law ? 398. Ought the state to enforce the education of all the children with- in its jurisdiction '? 399. Do public amusements benefit society ? 400. Did Greece contribute more to civilization than Rome? 401. Is Webster a better authority in orthography than Worcester? 402. Does the mind ever entirely lose an idea it has once possessed ? 403. Do the Scriptures justify us in believing that the Jews will be re- stored to Palestine before the close of the world's history ? 404. Should lotteries be prohibited by law ? 405. Is the drunkard a greater curse to society than the gambler? 406. Does the pulpit afford a better field for eloquence than the bar ? 407. Is truth invincible, if left to grapple with error on equal terms ? 408. Do parents exercise a greater influence than teachers in forming the character of the young ? 409. Does climate have any effect on national character ? 410. Are we responsible for our dreams ? 411. Is the literature of a nation influenced by its form of govern- ment? 412. Are games of chance allowable as an amusement ? 413. Is phrenology entitled to rank among the sciences ? 414. Should foreign emigration be encouraged ? 415. Is trial by judges preferable to trial by jury? 416. Is " lynch law" ever justifiable ? 417. Would Ireland be benefited by separation from England ? 418. Are aggressive wars ever justifiable ? 419. Is it true that " man is the architect of his own fortunes" ? 420. Should text-books for schools be in the form of question and answer ? 421. Are Christians justifiable in going to law with each other ? 422. Ought imprisonment for debt to be abolished ? 423. Was France benefited by the career of Napoleon ? 424. Do the principles of the Peace Society deserve support ? 425. Are promises made under constraint binding on the conscience ? 426. Is it true that " it makes no difference what a man's opinions may be, provided his life is right" ? 427. Is the assertion that " all men are born free and equal," true ? 428. Should normal schools be supported by the state ? 429. Is a man responsible for his opinions ? 430. Was the Roman congest beneficial to Britain ? 431. Ought government officers to be confined exclusively to native-born citizens ? 432. Should foreigners be permitted to enjoy the right of suffrage ? 433. Has the Papal Church contributed to the progress of civilization ? 434. Has the human race been benefited more by moral than by phy- sical courage ? APPENDIX. 513 435. Has Homer contributed more to the genius of poetry than Dante ? 436. Has Milton contributed more to the genius of poetry than Shake- speare ? 437. Should monopolies in trade be allowed ? 438. Do men suffer more from real evils than from imaginary ? 439. Is a public education preferable to a private one ? 440. Has the British government in India been beneficial to the natives ? 441. Is Hume a greater historian than Gibbon ? 442. Are the moderns superior to the ancients in eloquence ? 443. Is the world advancing in morality ? 444. Are the poems of Ossian authentic ? 445. Ought Cranmer to be ranked among Christian martyrs ? 446. Was Napoleon's banishment to St. Helena justifiable? 447. Ought the national government to make appropriations for inter- nal improvements ? 448. Is the expectation of reward a greater incentive to exertion than the fear of punishment ? 449. Does the study of the physical sciences conduce more to mental development than that of the classics ? 450. Are light and heat material agents ? 451. Is it possible to ascertain the exact location of the ancient Ophir ? 452. Is cotton as an article of commerce more valuable than corn ? 453. Is there any ground to believe, that the moon exerts an influence upon certain maniacs ? 454. Has the common belief that the changes of the moon affect the weather any foundation in science ? 455. Have we reason to believe that the rainbow appeared before the deluge ? 456. Is political corruption the necessary result of republican govern- ment ? 457. Are republican institutions favorable to the highest order of states- manship ? 458. Is affectation as vile as hypocrisy ? 459. Are the moderns superior to the ancients in the power and deli- cacy of satire ? 460. Was the divorce of the Empress Josephine justifiable ? 461. Ought any permanent support to be provided for the poor ? 462. Ought every one of unsound mind to be exempted from all legal responsibility for his conduct ? 514 APPENDIX INTRODUCTION TO THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. The second Continental Congress assembled in Philadelphia in May, 1776. The session was one of great and permanent interest. The in- dependence of the colonies had been agitated in the primary assemblies of the people ; but now the subject was introduced into the Congress. On the seventh of June, Kichard Henry Lee, of Virginia, presented a resolution, in which it was declared, " that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states ; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown ; and that all political connection between the state of Great Britain is and ought to be totally dissolved/' This resolution was advocated by the mover in a speech of great eloquence, and seconded by John Adams in an argument dis- tinguished by its power and patriotic enthusiasm. On the second of July, a committee was appointed to draft a Declara- tion according to the spirit of Mr. Lee's resolution. This committee consisted of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston. The two gentlemen first named were appointed a sub-committee to draw up the Declaration. This im- mortal document was penned by Mr. Jefferson. The Declaration thus prepared was taken up on the fourth of July, 1776 — a day never to be forgotten — and passed unanimously ; it was then ordered to be handsomely engrossed on parchment, and signed by all the members of the Congress. DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. " This Declaration should be written in letters of gold, and should be placed in the hands and engraven on the hearts of every youth of our country.' 7 Whett, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God en- title them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to such separation. We hold these truths to be self-evident : that all men are created equal ; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights ; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happi- ness ; that to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. Whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute a new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence indeed would dictate that gov- ernments long established should not be changed for light and tran- sient causes ; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more inclined to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right APPENDIX. 515 themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute des- potism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies ; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former systems of government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of re- peated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the estab- lishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be exhibited to a candid world. He has refused his assent to laws the most wholesome and necessary for the public good. He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and press- ing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his assent should be obtained ; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them. He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of representation in the legislature — a right inestimable to them, and for- midable to tyrants only. He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncom- fortable, and distant from the repositories of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into a compliance with his mea- sures. He has dissolved representative bodies repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people. He has refused, for a long time after such dissolution, to cause others to be elected, whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large for their exercise, the state remain- ing in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without and convulsions within. He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states ; for that purpose obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners ; re- fusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of lands. He has obstructed the administration of justice by refusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers. He has made judges dependent on his will alone for the tenure of their offices and the amount and payment of their salaries. He has erected a multitude of new officers, and sent hither swarms of officers to harass our people, and eat out their substance. He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies, without the consent of our legislatures. He has affected to render the military independent of and superior to the civil power. He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws ; giving his as- sent to their pretended acts of legislation. For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us. For protecting them by a mock trial from punishment for any mur- ders which they commit on the inhabitants of these states. 516 APPENDIX. For cutting off our trade with, all parts of the world. For imposing taxes on us without our consent. For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefit of trial by jury. For transporting us beyond seas to be tried for pretended offences. For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neighboring province, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its boundaries, so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these colonies. For taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable laws, and altering fundamentally the forms of our governments. For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves in- vested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever. He has abdicated government here by declaring us out of his protec- tion, and waging war against us. He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burned our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people. He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries, to complete the work of death, desolation, and tyranny already begun with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation. He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken captive on the high seas, to bear arms against their country, to become the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands. He has excited domestic insurrections among us, and has endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers the merciless Indian sa- vages, whose known rule of warfare is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions. - In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms ; our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant is unfit to be the ruler of a free people. Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them, by the ties of our common kindred, to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connection and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and consanguinity. We must therefore acquiesce in the necessity which denounces our separation, and hold them as we hold the rest of mankind— enemies in war, in peace friends. We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name and by the authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be, FREE AND INDEPENDENT STATES : and that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all political connec- tion between them and the state of Great Britain is and ought to be totally dissolved ; and that, as free and independent states, they have APPENDIX. 517 full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor. The members of the Congress of 1776 who signed this Declaration were as follows : New-Hampshire. — Josiah Bartlett, William Whipple, Matthew Thornton. Massachusetts Bay. — John Hancock, Samuel Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry. Rhode Island. — Samuel Hopkins, William Ellery. Connecticut. — Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Wil- liams, Oliver Wolcott. New- York. — William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris. New- Jersey. — Richard Stockton, John Witherspoon, Francis Hopkin- son, John Hart, Abrani Clark. Pennsylvania. — Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clyrner, James Smith, George Taylor, James Wilson, George Ross. Delaware. — Caesar Rodney, George Read, Thomas McKean. Maryland. — Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll, of Carrollton. Virginia. — George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, Jr., Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton. North-Carolina. — William Hooper, Joseph Hughes, John Penn. South-Carolina. — Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, Jr., Thomas Lynch, Jr., Arthur Middleton. Georgia. — Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton. 518 APPENDIX THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. (Framed during the year 178T by a convention of delegates, who met at Philadelphia, from the States oJjtfevv-Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New- York, New-Jersey, Penn- sylvania, Dmware, Maryland, Virginia, North-Carolina, South-Carolina, Georgia.) Preamble. We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tran- quillity, provide for the common defence, promote the gen- eral welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America. Legislative powers. Its source. Eligibility of representa- tives. Manner and ratio of rep- resentation and taxa- tion. Vacancies. Speaker. Impeach- ments. ARTICLE I. Sec. I. — All legislative powers here granted shall be vest- ed in a Congress of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives. Sec. II. — 1. The House of Representatives shall be com- posed of members chosen every second year by the people of the several states, and the electors in each state shall have the qualifications requisite for electors of the most numerous branch of the state legislature. 2. No person shall be a representative who shall not have attained to the age of twenty-five years, and been seven years a citizen of the United States, and who shall not, when elect- ed, be an inhabitant of that state in which he shall be chosen. 3. Representatives and direct taxes shall be apportioned among the several states which may be included within this Union, according to their respective numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole number of free persons, including those bound to servitude for a term of years, and ex- cluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other persons. The actual enumeration shall be made within three years after the first meeting of the Congress of the United States, and within every subsequent term of ten years, in such man- ner as they shall by law direct. The number of representa- tives shall not exceed one for every thirty thousand, but each state shall have at least one representative ; and, until such enumeration shall be made, the State of New-Hampshire shall be entitled to choose three, Massachusetts eight, Rhode Is- land and Providence Plantations one, Connecticut five, New- York six, New-Jersey four, Pennsylvania eight, Delaware one, Maryland six, Virginia ten, North-Carolina five, South- Carolina five, and Georgia three. 4. When vacancies happen in the representation from any state, the executive authority thereof shall issue writs of election to fill such vacancies. 5. The House of Representatives shall choose their speaker and other officers, and shall have the sole power of impeach- ment. APPENDIX. 519 Sec. III. — 1. The Senate of the United States shall be Senators, composed of two senators from each state, chosen by the two from legislature thereof, for six years ; and each senator shall have each state * one vote. 2. Immediately after they shall be assembled, in conse- Arrange- quence of the first election, they shall be divided as equally I ^ er ! t f01 ' a m choice of onp as may be into three classes. The seats of the senators third every of the first class shall be vacated at the expiration of the second year. second year ; of the second class at the expiration of the fourth year ; and of the third class at the expiration of the sixth year, so that one third may be chosen every second year ; and if vacancies happen by resignation or otherwise during the recess of the legislature of any state, the executive there- of may make temporary appointments, until the next meet- ing of the legislature, which shall then fill such vacan- cies. 3. No person shall be a senator who shall not have attain- Eligibility to ed to the age of thirty years, and been nine years a citizen office - of the United States, and who shall not, when elected, be an inhabitant of that state for which he shall be chosen. 4. The vice-president of the United States shall be presi- Presiding of- dent of the Senate, but shall have no vote, unless they be ficer - equally divided. 5. The Senate shall choose their other officers, and also a president pro tempore, in the absence of the vice-president, or when he shall exercise the office of president of the United States. 6. The Senate shall have the sole power to try all impeach- Power of ments. When sitting for that purpose, they shall be on parchments' oath or affirmation. When the president of the United States a nd is tried, the chief justice shall preside: and no person shall be convicted without the concurrence of two thirds of the members present. 7. Judgment in cases of impeachment shall not extend fur- Penalty. ther than to removal from office, and disqualification to hold and enjoy any office of honor, trust, or profit under the United States ; but the party convicted shall, nevertheless, be liable and subject to indictment, trial, judgment, and punishment, according to law. Sec. IV. — 1. The times, places, and manner of holding elec- Elections. tions for senators and representatives shall be prescribed in each state by the legislature thereof ; but the Congress may, at*any time by law, make or alter such regulations, except as to the places of choosing senators. 2. The Congress shall assemble at least once in every year, Meeting of and such meeting shall be on the first Monday in December, Congress, unless they shall by law appoint a different day. Sec. V. — 1. Each house shall be the judge of the elections, returns, and qualifications of its own members, and a major- ity of each shall constitute a quorum to do business ; but a J he ™ organ- smaller number may adjourn from day to day, and may be lza ion ' authorized to compel the attendance of absent members, in 520 APPENDIX sucli manner and under such penalties as eacli house may- provide. Rules, 2. Each house may determine the rules of its proceedings, punish its members for disorderly behavior, and, with the concurrence of two thirds, expel a member. 3. Each house shall keep a journal of its proceedings, and from time to time publish the same, excepting such parts as may, in their judgment, require secrecy ; and the yeas and nays of the members of either house, on any question, shall, at the desire of one fifth of those present, be entered on the journals, and adjourn- 4. Neither house, during the session of Congress, shall, ment. without the consent of the other, adjourn for more than three days, nor to any other place than that in which the two houses shall be sitting. Compensa- Sec. VI. — 1. The senators and representatives shall re- priviieges ce i ye a compensation for their services, to be ascertained by law, and paid out of the treasury of the United States. They shall, in all cases except treason, felony, and breach of peace, be privileged from arrest during their attendance at the session of their respective houses, and in going to and returning from the same ; and for any speech or debate in either house they shall not be questioned in any other place. Plurality of 2. No senator or representative shall, during the time for offices which he was elected, be appointed to any civil office under the authority of the United States, which shall have been created, or the emoluments whereof shall have been in- creased* during such time ; and no person holding any office under the United States shall be a member of either house during his continuance in "office. Origin of Sec. VII. — 1. All bills for raising revenue shall originate bllIs » in the House of Representatives ; but the Senate may pro- pose or concur with amendments, as on other bills. 2. Every bill which shall have passed the House of Repre- sentatives and the Senate shall, before it becomes a law, be presented to the president of the United States ; if he ap- prove, he shall sign it ; but if not, he shall return it, with his objections, to that house in which it shall have origin- ated, who shall enter the objections at large on their jour- their course nal, and proceed to reconsider it. If, after such reconsidera- in becoming tion, two thirds of that house shall agree to pass the bill,„it shall be sent, together with the objections, to the other house, by which it shall likewise be reconsidered; and if approved by two thirds of that house, it shall become a law. Bat in all such cases the votes of both houses shall be deter- mined by yeas and nays, and the names of the persons vot- ing for and against the bill shall be entered on the journal of each house respectively. If any bill shall not be returned by the president within ten days (Sundays excepted) after it shall have been presented to him, the same shall be a law, in like manner as if he had signed it, unless the Congress, by APPENDIX, 521 tlieir adjournment, prevent its return, in which case it shall not be a law. 3. Every order, resolution, or vote, to which the concur- Approval rence of the Senate and House of Representatives may be*"£ ™ t0 necessary, (except on a question of adjournment,) shall be presented to the president of the United States, and before the same shall take effect shall be approved by him ; or, be- ing disapproved by him, shall be repassed by two thirds of the Senate and House of Representatives, according to the rules and limitations prescribed in the case of a bill. Sec. VIII. — The Congress shall have power — 1. To lay and collect taxes, duties, impost, and excises ; to 0fthe duties pay the debts and provide for the common defence and gen- of^co^ess. eral welfare of the United States ; but all duties, imposts, ° and excises shall be uniform throughout the United States. 2. To borrow money on the credit of the United States. 3. To regulate commerce with foreign nations, and among the several states, and with the Indian tribes. 4. To establish a uniform rule of naturalization, and uni- form laws on the subject of bankruptcies throughout the United States. 5. To coin money, regulate the value thereof, and of for- eign coin, and fix the standard of weights and measures. 6. To provide for the punishment of counterfeiting the securities and current coin of the United States. 7. To establish post-offices and post roads. 8. To promote the progress of science and useful arts by securing, for limited times, to authors and inventors, the ex- clusive right to their respective writings and discoveries. 9. To constitute tribunals inferior to the Supreme Court. 10. To dafine and punish piracies and felonies committed on the high seas, and offences against the law of nations. 11. To declare war, grant letters of marque and reprisal, and make rules concerning captures on land or water. 1.2. To raise and support armies ; but no appropriation of money to that use shall be for a longer term than two years. 13. To provide and maintain a navy. 14. To make rules for the government and regulation of the land and naval forces. 15. To provide for calling forth the militia to execute the laws of the Union, suppress insurrections, and repel inva- sions. 16. To provide for organizing, arming, and disciplining the militia, and for governing such part of them as may be em- ployed in the service of the United States, reserving to the states respectively the appointment of the officers, and the authority of training the militia according to the discipline prescribed by Congress. 17. To exercise exclusive legislation, in all cases whatso- ever, over such district (not exceeding ten miles square) as may, by cession of particular states, and tfee acceptance of 522 APPENDIX Personal taxes. Right of trial. Attainder. Capitation. Commercial revenue. Treasury. Interdiction of titles. Conserva- tion of pow- ers vested in the Union. Further de- fined. Congress, become the seat of the government of the United States, and to exercise like authority over all places pur- chased by the consent of the legislature of the state in which the same shall be, for the erection of forts, maga- zines, arsenals, dock yards, and other needful buildings; and, 18. To make all laws which shall be necessary and pro- per for carrying into execution the foregoing powers, and all other powers vested by this constitution in the govern- ment of the United States, or in any department or office thereof. Sec IX. — 1. The migration or importation of such per- sons as any of the states now existing shall think proper to admit, shall not be prohibited by the Congress prior to the year one thousand eight hundred and eight ; but a tax or duty may be imposed on such importation, not exceeding ten dollars for each person. 2. The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus shall not be suspended, unless when, in cases of rebellion or invasion, the public safety may require it. 3. No bill of attainder or ex post facto law shall be passed. 4. No capitation or other direct tax shall be laid, unless in proportion to the census or enumeration hereinbefore direct- ed to be taken. 5. No tax or duty shall be laid on articles exported from any state. No preference shall be given, by any regulation of commerce or revenue, to the ports of one state over those of another ; nor shall vessels bound to or from one state be obliged to enter, clear, or pay duties in another. 6. No money shall be drawn from the treasury but in con- sequence of appropriations made by law ; and a regular statement and account of the receipts and expenditures of all public money shall be published from time to time. 7. No title of nobility shall be granted by the United States ; and no person holding any office of profit or trust under them shall, without the consent of Congress, accept of any present, emolument, office, or title of any kind whatever, from any king, prince, or foreign state. Sec X. — 1. No state shall enter into any treaty, alliance, or confederation ; grant letters of marque and reprisal ; coin money ; emit bills of credit ; make any thing but gold and silver coin a tender in payment of debts ; pass any bill of attainder, ex post facto law, or law impairing the obligation of contracts, or grant any title of nobility. 2. No state- shall, without the consent of Congress, lay any imposts or duties on imports or exports, except what may be absolutely necessary for executing its inspection laws ; and the net produce of all duties and imposts laid by any state on imports and exports shall be for the use of the treasury of the United States ; and all such laws shall be subject to the revision and control of Congress. No state shall, without thaiconsent of Congress, lay any duty en ton- APPENDIX. 523 nage, keep troops or ships of war in time of peace, enter into any agreement or compact with another state, or with a foreign power, or engage in war, unless actually invaded, or in such imminent danger as will not admit of delay. ARTICLE II. Sec. I. — 1. The executive power shall be vested in a presi-The chief dent of the United States of America. He shall hold his magistrate, office during the term of four years, and, together with the vice-president, chosen for the same term, be elected as follows : 2. Each state shall appoint, in such manner as the legisla- The manner ture thereof may direct, a number of electors equal to the°. f his elec * whole number of senators and representatives to which the tlon state may be entitled in the Congress ; but no senator, or rep- resentative, or person holding an office of trust or profit un- der the United States, shall be appointed an elector. 3. The electors shall meet in their respective states, and b y tn e peo- vote by ballot for two persons, of whom one at least shall not ple » be an inhabitant of the same state with themselves ; and they shall make a list of all the persons voted for, and of the num- ber of votes for each ; which list they shall sign and certify, and transmit, sealed, to the seat of government of the United States, directed to the president of the Senate. The presi- dent of the Senate shall, in the presence of the Senate and House of Representatives, open all the certificates, and the votes shall then be counted. The person having the greatest number of votes shall be the president, if such number be a majority of the whole number of electors appointed ; and if there be more than one who have such majority, and have an equal number of votes, then the House of Representatives by the House shall immediately choose, by ballot, one of them for presi- of R epre- dent ; and if no person have a majority, then from the five sen -" reB « highest on the list the said house shall, in like manner, choose the president. But in choosing the president, the votes shall be taken by states, the representation from each state having one vote ; a quorum for this purpose shall consist of a mem- ber or members from two thirds of the states, and a majority of all the states shall be necessary to a choice. In every case, after the choice of the president, the person having the an a f the greatest number of votes of the electors shall be the vice- vice-presi- president. But if there should remain two or more who have dent# equal votes, the Senate shall choose from them, by ballot, the vice-president. 4. The Congress may determine the time of choosing the electors, and the day on which they shall give their votes ; which day shall be the same throughout the United States. 5. No person, except a natural born citizen, or a citizen of Require- the United States at the time of the adoption of this constitu-" 101 ^ for tion, shall be eligible to the office of president ; neither shall ce * any person be eligible to that office who shall not have attained 524 APPENDIX. Compensa- tion and oath of of- fice. His duties the age of thirty-five years, and been fourteen years a resident within the United States. Proviso in 6 * In case of tlle removal of tne president from office, or of case of death his death, resignation, or inability to discharge the powers or removal, and duties of the said office, the same shall devolve on the vice-president ; and the Congress may, by law, provide for the case of removal, death, resignation, or inability both of the president and vice-president, declaring what officer shall then act as president ; and such officer shall act accordingly, until the disability be removed, or a president shall be elected. 7. The president shall, at stated times, receive for his ser- vices a compensation which shall neither be increased nor diminished during the period for which he shall have been elected ; and he shall not receive, within that period, any other emolument from the United States, or any of them. 8. Before he enters on the execution of his office he shall take the following oath or affirmation : " I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully exe- cute the office of president of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the con- stitution of the United States." Sec. II. — 1. The president shall be commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States, and of the militia of the several states, when called into the actual service of the United States ; he may require the opinion, in writ- ing, of the principal officer in each of the executive depart- ments upon any subject relating to the duties of their re- spective offices, and he shall have power to grant reprieves and pardons for offences against the United States, except in cases of impeachment. 2. He shall have power, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, to make treaties, provided two thirds of the senators present concur ; and he shall nominate, and by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, shall appoint am- bassadors, other public ministers, and consuls, judges of the supreme court, and all other officers of the United States whose appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by law. But the Congress may, by law, vest the appointment of such inferior officers as they think proper in the president alone, in the courts of law, or in the heads of departments, filling vacan- 3. The president shall have power to fill up all vacancies cies, an ^^ ma ^ } ia pp en d ur i n g the recess of the Senate, by grant- ing commissions, which shall expire at the end of their next session. Sec. III. — He shall, from time to time, give to the Con- gress information of the state of the Union, and recommend to their consideration such measures as he shall judge neces- sary and expedient ; he may, on extraordinary occasions, convening convene both houses, or either of them ; and in case of dis- of Congress, agreement between them with respect to the time of ad- journment, he may adjourn them to such time as he shall and powers in making treaties, APPENDIX. 525 think proper ; he shall receive ambassadors and other public ministers ; he shall take care that the laws be faithfully executed, and shall commission all the officers of the United States. Sec. IV. — The president, vice-president, and all civil offi- Removal cers of the United States, shall be removed from office on from office - impeachment for and conviction of treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors. ARTICLE III. Sec. I. — The judicial power of the United States shall be The judici- vested in one supreme court, and in such inferior courts as ary t v a ^ d the Congress may, from time to time, ordain and establish, investiture. The judges, both of the supreme and inferior courts, shall hold their offices during good behavior, and shall, at stated times, receive for their services a compensation, which shall not be diminished during their continuance in office. Sec. II.— 1. The judicial power shall extend to all cases, in Their pow- law and equity, arising under this constitution, the laws of ers. the United States, and treaties made, or which shall be made, under their authority ; to all cases affecting ambassadors, other public ministers, and consuls ; to all cases of admiralty and maritime jurisdiction ; to controversies to which the United States shall be a party ; to controversies between two or more states, between a state and citizens of another state, between citizens of different states, between citizens of the same state claiming lands under grants of different states, and between a state, or the citizens thereof, and foreign states, citizens, or subjects. 2. In all cases affecting ambassadors, other public minis- Rules of pro- ters, and consuls, and those in which a state shall be a party, cedure. the supreme court shall have original jurisdiction. In all other cases before mentioned, the supreme court shall have appellate jurisdiction, both as to law and fact, with such ex- ceptions, and under such regulations, as the Congress shall make. 3. The trial of all crimes, except in cases of impeachment, shall be by jury ; and such trials shall be held in the state where the said crime shall have been committed ; but when not committed within any state, the trial shall be at such place or places as the Congress may, by law, have directed. Sec. III. — 1. Treason against the United States shall con- Nature of sist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to treason > aml their enemies, giving them aid and comfort. No person shall be convicted of treason, unless on the testimony of two wit- nesses to the same overt act, or on confession in open court. 2. The Congress shall have power to declare the punish- how pun- ment of treason ; but no attainder of treason shall work cor- ished. ruption of blood, or forfeiture, except during the life of the person attainted. 526 APPENDIX. ARTICLE IV. Guaranty of Sec. I — Full faith and credit shall be given in each state state rights, to the public acts, records, and judicial proceedings of every other state ; and the Congress may, by general laws, pre- scribe the manner in which such acts, records, and proceed- ings shall be proved, and the effect thereof, and equali- Sec. II. — 1. The citizens of each state shall be entitled to zation. a -Q ftiQ privileges and immunities of citizens in the several states. State requi- 2. A person charged in any state with treason, felony, or sition, other crime, who shall flee from justice, and be found in an- other state, shall, on demand of the executive authority of the state from which he fled, be delivered up, to be removed to the state having the jurisdiction of the crime, and surren- 3. No person held to service or labor in one state, under der. the laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in consequence of any law or regulation therein, be discharged from such service or labor, but shall be delivered upon claim of the party to whom such service or labor may be due. New states Sec. III. — 1. New states may be admitted by the Congress into this Union, but no new state shall be formed or erected within the jurisdiction of any other state ; nor any state be formed by the junction of two or more states, or parts of states, without the consent of the legislatures of the state concerned, as well as of the Congress, and public 2. The Congress shall have power to dispose of and make lands. all needful rules and regulations respecting the territory or other property belonging to the United States ; and nothing in this constitution shall be so construed as to prejudice any claims of the United States, or of any particular state. Protection of Sect. IV. — The United States shall guarantee to every form of gov- state in this Union a republican form of government, and ernmen . ghgji protect each of them against invasion ; and, on appli- cation of the legislature, or of the executive, (when the legislature cannot be convened,) against domestic violence. ARTICLE V. Amend- The Congress, whenever two thirds of both houses shall ments of the deem it necessary, shall propose amendments to this consti- constitution, tution ; or, on the application of the legislatures of two thirds of the several states, shall call a convention for proposing amendments, which, in either case, shall be valid, to all in- tents and purposes, as part of this constitution, when ratified by the legislatures of three fourths of the several states, or by conventions in three fourths thereof, as the one or the other mode of ratification may be proposed by the Congress : with pro- Provided that no amendment which may be made prior to the year one thousand eight hundred and eight shall, in any manner, affect the first and fourth clauses in the ninth sec- APPENDIX. 527 tion of the first article ; and that no state, without its con- sent, shall be deprived of its equal suffrages in the Senate. ARTICLE VI. 1. All debts contracted, and engagements entered into, be- Recognition fore the adoption of this constitution, shall be as valid ° f antece- against the United States under this constitution as under dent claims - the confederation. 2. This constitution, and the laws of the United States Basis of gov- which shall be made in pursuance thereof, and all treaties consolidated made, or which shall be made, under the authority of the ' United States, shall be the supreme law of the land ; and the . judges in every state shall be bound thereby, any thing in the constitution or laws of any state to the contrary notwith- standing. 3. The senators and representatives before mentioned, and and obiiga- the members of the several state legislatures, and all execu- ^ of its tive and judicial officers, both of the United States and of ° cers * the several states, shall be bound by oath or affirmation to support this constitution ; and no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States. ARTICLE VII. The ratification of the conventions of nine states shall be Constitu- sufficient for the establishment of this constitution between tion * the states so ratifying the same. Done in convention, by the unanimous consent of the states present, the seventeenth day of September, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighty-seven, and of the independence of the United States of America the twelfth. In witness whereof we have hereunto sub- scribed our names. [The constitution, although formed in 1787, was not Time of adopted until 1788, and did not commence its operations adoption, until 1789. The number of delegates chosen to this conven- tion was sixty-five, of whom ten did not attend, and sixteen refused to sign the constitution. The following thirty-nine signed the constitution : — ] New-Hampshire. — John Langdon, Nicholas Gilman. List of sign- Massachusetts. — Nathaniel Gorham, Rufus King. ers. Connecticut. — William Samuel Johnson, Roger Sherman. New- York. — Alexander Hamilton. New-Jersey. — William Livingston, David Brearley, Wil- liam Patterson, Jonathan Dayton. Pennsylvania. — Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Mifflin, Robert Morris, George Clymer, Thomas Fitzsimmons, Jared Inger- soll, James Wilson, Gouverneur Morris. 528 APPENDIX. Delaware. — George Read, Gunning Bedford, Jr., John Dick- inson, Richard Bassett, Jacob Broom. Maryland. — James McHenry, Daniel of St. Thomas Jenifer, Daniel Carroll, Virginia. — John Blair, James Madison, Jr. North-Carolina. — William Blount, Richard Dobbs Spaight, Hugh Williamson. South-Carolina. — John Rutledge, Charles C. Pinkney, Charles Pinkney, Pierce Butler. Georgia. — William Few, Abraham Baldwin. GEORGE WASHINGTON, President. WILLIAM JACKSON, Secretary. AMENDMENTS TO THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. Ratified according to the Provisions of the Fifth Article of the fore- going Constitution. Religious Art. I. — Congress shall make no law respecting an estab- toieration. lishmentof religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; press tS and the or bridging the freedom of speech or of the press ; or the petition. rights of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances. The militia. Art. II. — A well-regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed. Art. III. — No soldier shall, in time of peace, be quartered in any house without the consent of the owner, nor in time of war but in a manner to be prescribed by law. Search war- Art. IV. — The right of the people to be secure in their rants and persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable seizures. searches and seizures, shall not be violated ; and no warrants hall issue but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized. Present- Art. V. — No person shall be held to answer for a capital ment of # or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or in- grand juries, dictment of a grand jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the militia, when in actual service, in time of war or public danger ; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb ; nor shall be compelled, in any criminal case, to be a witness Judicial against himself ; nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, safeguards, without due process of law ; nor shall private property be taken for public use without just compensation. Trial by Art. VI. — In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall Jur y» enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial by an impartial jury of the state and district wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation ; to be confronted with the witnesses APPENDIX. 529 against him ; to have compulsory process for obtaining wit- and witness- nesses in his favor ; and to have the assistance of counsel for es > his defence. Art. VII. — In suits at common law, where the value in regulated by controversy shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial J°^ imon by jury shall be preserved ; and no fact tried by jury shall be otherwise reexamined in any court of the United States than according to the rules of the common law. Art. VIII. — Excessive bail shall not be required, nor ex- Bail, cessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments in- flicted. Art. IX. — The enumeration in the constitution of certain Line be- rights shall not be construed to deny or disparage others re- tween con * tained by the people. £fSSS? Art. X. — The powers not delegated to the United States rights by the constitution, nor prohibited by it to the states, are re- drawn, served to the states respectively, or to the people. Art. XI.— The judicial power of the United States shall ""jJSSS not be construed to extend to any suit in law or equity, power, commenced or prosecuted against one of the United States by citizens of another state, or by citizens or subjects of any foreign state. Art. XII. — The electors shall meet in their respective states, Amendment and vote by ballot for president and vice-president, one of *° A jy 11 -* whom, at least, shall not be an inhabitant of the same state respectino- with themselves ; they shall name in their ballots the person elections. voted for as president, and, in distinct ballots, the person voted for as vice-president ; and they shall make distinct lists of all persons voted for as president, and of all persons voted for as vice-president, and of the number of votes for each, which lists they shall sign and certify, and transmit, sealed, to the seat of the government of the United States, directed to the president of the Senate. The president of the Senate shall, in the presence of the Senate and House of Represen- tatives, open all the certificates, and the votes shall then be counted. The person having the greatest number of votes for president shall be the president, if such number be a majority of the whole number of electors appointed ; and if no person have such a majority, then from the persons having 1 the highest numbers, not exceeding three, on the list of those voted for as president, the House of Representatives shall choose immediately, by ballot, the president. But in choos- ing the president, the vote shall be taken by states, the re- presentation from each state having one vote ; a quorum for this purpose shall consist of a member or members from two thirds of the states, and a majority of all the states shall be necessary to a choice. And if the House of Representatives shall not choose a president, whenever the right of choice shall devolve upon them, before the fourth day of March next following, then the vice-president shall act as president, as in the case of the death or other constitutional disability of the president. 23 580 APPENDIX. The person having the greatest number of votes as vice- president shall be the vice-president, if such number be a majority of the whole number of electors appointed ; and if no person have a majority, then from the two highest num- bers on the list the Senate shall choose the vice-president ; a quorum for the purpose shall consist of two thirds of the whole number of senators, and a majority of the whole num- ber shall be necessary to a choice. But no person constitutionally ineligible to the office of president shall be eligible to that of vice-president of the United States. N. B. — In 1865 an additional amendment to the Constitu- tion was ratified by the number of states required by Article V., forever abolishing slavery or involuntary servitude within the territory of the United States. WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS TO THE PEO- PLE OF THE UNITED STATES. Washington declines being a Candidate for President. To whom Feiends and Fellow-Citizens : The period for a new elec- was this ad- tion of a citizen to administer the executive government of the dress made ? United States being not far distant, and the time actually arrived when your thoughts must be employed in designating Havino- ^ ne person who is to be clothed with that important trust, it served eight appears to me proper, especially as it may conduce to a more years, did he distinct expression of the public voice, that I should now ap- fn^a^andi-P 1 ^ 86 ^ ou °^ ^ e res °l u tion I have formed to decline being date for re- considered among the number of those out of whom a choice election ? i s to be made. Of what did I beg you, at the same time, to do me the justice to be he beg them assured that this resolution has not been taken without a sured ? S " strict regard to all the considerations appertaining to the re- lation which binds a dutiful citizen to his country ; and that, By what was in withdrawing the tender of service which silence in my fiu n0t dV ^nation might imply, I am influenced by no diminution of uence . . ZG& i for your future interest, no deficiency of grateful respect lie" support f° r y° ur P as t kindness ; but am supported by a full conviction ed ? that the step is compatible with both. His Sacrifice of Inclination to Duty. In accepting The acceptance of, and continuance hitherto in, the office the office of to which your suffrages have twice called me, have been a what did' he un if° rm sacrifice of inclination to the opinion of duty, and sacrifice ? to a deference to what appeared to be your desire. I con- stantly hoped that it would have been much earlier in my power, consistently with motives which I was not at liberty * Washington was born 1732, died 1799. APPENDIX. 531 i disregard, to return to that retirement from which I had jen reluctantly drawn. The strength of my inclination to p this, previous to the last election, had even led to the pre- Previous to aration of an address to declare it to you ; but mature renec- ^^whatf " bn on the then perplexed and critical posture of our affairs induced him 1th foreign nations, and the unanimous advice of persons not to retire ? I titled to my confidence, impelled me to abandon the idea. j \ rejoice that the state of your concerns, external as well ? Vh ? t ™. ade | nternal, no longer renders the pursuit of inclinations in- consistent [ lpatible with the sentiment of duty or propriety ; and am with duty at f suaded, whatever partiality may be retained for my ser- his "J"^ ■ es, that in the present circumstances of our country you men * \ il not disapprove of my determination to retire. The impressions with which I first undertook the ardu- T° what . did Vis trust were explained on the proper occasion. In the dis- bute°his best 1 Large of this trust I will only say that I have with good in- exertions ? ntions contributed toward the organization and adminis- ation of the government the best exertions of which a very llible judgment was capable. Not unconscious, in the out- t, of the inferiority of my qualifications, experience in my iVn eyes, perhaps still more in the eyes of others, has strength- led the motives to diffidence of myself ; and every day the frreasing weight of years admonishes me more and more lat the shade of retirement is as necessary to me as it will I welcome. Satisfied that, if any circumstances have given ftculiar value to my services, they were temporary, I have What had he J\e consolation to believe that, while choice and prudence in- ^ e consoia- ke me to quit the political scene, patriotism does not for- ^ e J e " d it. His Acknowledgments and Vows. In looking forward to the moment which is to terminate For what e career of my public life, my feelings do not permit me to things did he spend the deep acknowledgment of that debt of gratitude adeb°t of dge ' ch I owe to my beloved country for the many honors it gratitude ? s conferred upon me ; still more for the steadfast confidence th which it has supported me ; and for the opportunities I ve thence enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable attachment services faithful and persevering, though in usefulness un- gual to my zeal. If benefits have resulted to our country »m these services, let it always be remembered' to your How were raise, and as an instructive example in our annals, that, un- his services \ der circumstances in which the passions, agitated in every e ?!i ei } tl u n ¥ h direction, were liable to mislead — amidst appearances some- people ? y what dubious, vicissitudes of fortune often discouraging ; in situations in which not unfrequently want of success has countenanced the spirit of criticism — the constancy of your support was the essential prop of the efforts, and a guarantee For what of the plans by which they were effected. Profoundly pene- wer * his un ; trated with this idea, I shall carry it with me to my grave, n ^ e n f o V0WS as a strong incitement to unceasing vows, that Heaven may Heaven ? 532 APPENDIX. continue to yon the choicest tokens of its beneficence ; your union and brotherly affection may be perpetual ; i the free Constitution, which is the work of your hands, r Does this > be sacredly maintained; that its administration in ev v ° wex k lbifc department may be stamped with wisdom and virtue ; tl the^source iu fine, the happiness of the people of these states, under from which auspices of liberty, may be made complete, by so caref i he expected preservation and so prudent a use of this blessing, as 1 the^people ?° acquire to them the glory of recommending it to th'i plause, the affection, and adoption of every nation wh \ yet a stranger to it. 1 Frequent Review of this Address recommended. To what was Here, perhaps, I ought to stop. But solicitude for y a e soUcitude y we ^ are > which cannot end but with my life, and the api for their wel-hension of danger natural to that solicitude, urge me, on fare ? occasion like the present, to offer to your solemn contenr; Did he re- tion, and to recommend to your frequent review, some se commend men t s which are the result of much reflection, of no in< them to their . , , , , ,. , , . , n • frequent re- siderable observation, and which appear to me all-impor view to the permanency of your felicity as a people. These be offered to you with the more freedom, as you can only in them the disinterested warnings of a parting friend, w Why was ne can possibly have no personal motive to bias his coum encouraged N r can I forget, as an encouragement to it, your indulge^ ^ it ° h ff ^ e ^ em reception of my sentiments on a former and not dissimii dom ? occasion. The Love of Liberty. In what was Interwoven as is the love of liberty with every ligame, it not neces- f vour hearts, no recommendation of mine is necessary - toTortify m fortify or confirm the attachment. and confirm the people ? TlnUy of Government justly valued. What in The unity of government which constitutes you one r + their govern- pi e i s a i so n0 w dear to you. It is justly so ; for it is a nr particularly piU ar m tne edifice of your real independence, the supp dear to of your tranquillity at home, your peace abroad : of y< , . them ? safety ; of your prosperity ; of that very liberty which y ^usu vso? so hig^y P r i ze - But as it is easy to foresee that from din\ j ent causes and from different quarters much pains will li Who will at- taken, many artifices employed, to weaken in your minds th tempt to conviction of this truth ; as this is the point in your politics' conviction 6 fortress against which the batteries of internal and external oftiiis truth? enemies will be most constantly and actively (though ofte^ What then covertly and insidiously) directed, it is of infinite moment should be that you should properly estimate the immense value of you; of "infinUe na tional union to your collective and individual happiness^ moment? that you should cherish a cordial, habitual, and immovabl APPENDIX 533 tacliment to it ; accustoming yourselves to think and speak what should fc'it as the palladium of your political safety and prosperity, b ^ cherish- Df atching for its preservation with jealous anxiety ; discoun-gp^ e ^ d f? W d f :nancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can P; 1 any event be abandoned ; and indignantly frowning upon What should ti e first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of j^^ced 111 " Wi • country from the rest, or to enfeeble the' sacred ties which an d frowned en v link together the various parts. upon ? Inducements to cherish Unity. pert j> r tnis you have every inducement of sympathy and in- Mention vicr pt. Citizens by birth or choice of a common country, ?°™ e of the wi x I country has a right to concentrate your affections. The }£ su^con- me of American, which belongs to you in your national duct. 01 pacity, must always exalt the just pride of patriotism more cl\an any appellation derived from local discriminations. With te ight shades of difference you have the same religion, man- tr ers, habits, and political principles. You have in a common faause fought and triumphed together ; the independence and sfiberty you possess are the work of joint counsels and joint o^fforts, of common dangers, sufferings, and successes. What con- ei But these considerations, however powerfully they address siderations iuhemselves to your sensibility, are greatly outweighed by j^* ^^ tLhose which apply more immediately to your interest. Here unity of gov- bt'very portion of our country finds the most commanding ernment ? P'notives for carefully guarding and preserving the union of ^J? ^ oea thhe Whole. tionofthe VI country find Reciprocal Interests of the different Sections of the Union. The North, in an unrestrained intercourse with the South, What is p/rotected by the equal laws of a common government, finds fou *V* ^ y |£ e : n the productions of the latter great additional resources of productions 6 '^maritime and commercial enterprise, and precious materials of the south? S1 of manufacturing industry. The South, in the same inter- What bene- w - course, benefiting by the agency of the North, sees its agri- ?* s flovv 1 to t . hi u j -x j m • 0.1 • j. the south by culture grow and its commerce expand. Turning partly into an inter . J 7^ its own channels the seamen of the North, it finds its parti- course with cular navigation invigorated, and, while it contributes, in tnenorth? , ^LtiCfcA llU/Viga>lXUll lUVlgViai^U, CKL±K.l } *» XXXXVy XV VUUU11UUIVO, XXX ^different ways, to nourish and increase the general mass of Wh{5 TQm ? J the national navigation, it looks forward to the protection of tection is /'a maritime strength, to which itself is unequally adapted, looked for by The East, in a like intercourse with the West, already finds, ^^hicii and, in the progressive improvement of interior communica- they are un- tions by land and water, will more and more find, a valuable equal ? vent for the commodities which it brings from abroad or J t g ^J^" manufactures at home. The West derives from the East the east from supplies requisite to its growth and comfort ; and what is an inter- perhaps of still greater consequence, it must of necessity owe ^JJJgJ? 11 the secure enjoyment of indispensable outlets for its own what does productions to the weight, influence, and the future maritime the west de- 534 APPENDIX rive from the strength of the Atlantic side of the Union, directed by an in- east, and of dissoluble community of interest as one nation. Any other necessity tenure by which the West can hold this essential advantage, whether derived from its own separate strength, or from an apostate and unnatural connection with any foreign power, must be intrinsically precarious. Unity preserves Strength and secures Peace. What do all While, then, every part of our country thus feels an im- parts of the mediate and particular interest in union, all the parts corn- country find bined cannot fail to find in the united mass of means and meamfand e ff° rts greater strength, greater resource, proportionably efforts? greater security from external danger, a less frequent inter- ruption of their peace by foreign nations ; and, what is of inestimable value, they must derive from union an exemption from those broils and wars between themselves which so frequently afflict neighboring countries not tied together by the same government, which their own rivalships alone would be sufficient to produce, but which opposite foreign alliances, attachments, and intrigues would stimulate and embitter. By union, Hence, likewise, they will avoid the necessity of those over- ™kat estab- g rown military establishments which, under any form of win they government, are inauspicious to liberty, and which are to be avoid which regarded as particularly hostile to republican liberty. In are inauspi- t n i s sense it is that your union ought to be considered as a erty ? " main prop of your liberty, and that the love of the one ought to endear to you the preservation of the other. What do These considerations speak a persuasive language to every these consid- reflecting and virtuous mind, and exhibit the continuance hibitT S ex "°f tne union as a primary object of a patriotic desire. Is there a doubt whether a common government can embrace^ so large a sphere? Let experience solve it. To listen to* mere speculation in such a case were criminal. We are authorized to hope that a proper organization of the whole, | with the auxiliary agency of governments for the respective ! subdivisions, will afford a happy issue to the experiment.) It is well worth a fair and full experiment. With such power- ful and obvious motives to union, affecting all parts of our * country, while experiment shall not have demonstrated its £ impracticability, there will always be reason to distrust the I patriotism of those who in any quarter may, endeavor to [ weaken its bands. Danger of Parties in the State. Amon " t , h . e 1 In contemplating the causes which may disturb our Union, causes which ., l ,, " « ,-, J . j i u may disturb" occurs as matter of serious concern that any ground should the anion, have been furnished for characterizing parties by geographi- w . ,, ;' lt j 8 cal discriminations — northern and southern, Atlantic and serious con- western ; whence designing men may endeavor to excite a oero 't belief that there is a real difference of local interests and \ APPENDIX. 535 views. One of the expedients of party to acquire influence Whatadvan- witliin particular districts is to misrepresent the opinions and tage will de- aims of other districts. You cannot shield yourselves t 00 ^" 1 of these much against the jealousies and heartburnings which spring discrimina- from these misrepresentations ; they tend to render alien to tions ? each other those who ought to be bound together by frater- F nal affection. The inhabitants of our western country have then J should lately had a useful lesson on this head. They have seen in they 'shield the negotiation by the executive, and in the unanimous themselves? ratification by the Senate of the treaty w T ith Spain, and in the universal satisfaction at the event throughout the United States, a decisive proof how unfounded were the suspicious propagated among them of a policy in the general govern- ment and in the Atlantic states unfriendly to their interests in regard to the Mississippi ; they have been witnesses to the formation of two treaties, that with Great Britain and that with Spain, which secure to them every thing they could desire, in respect to our foreign relations, toward confirming their prosperity. Will it not be their wisdom to rely for the preservation of these advantages on the union by which they were procured ? Will they not henceforth be deaf to those advisers, if such there are, who would sever them from their brethren, and connect them with aliens ? Alliances between States not permanent. To the efficacy and permanency of your union a government what is in- fer the whole is indispensable. No alliances, however strict, dispensable between the parts can be an adequate substitute ; they must*® a^^ert inevitably experience the infractions and interruptions which manence of all alliances in all times have experienced. Sensible of this the union? momentous truth, you have improved upon your first essay Why are not by the adoption of a constitution of government better alliances an calculated than your former for an intimate union, and for substitute f the efficacious management of your common concerns. Why does This government, the offspring of your own choice, uninflu- this govern- enced and unawed, adopted upon full investigation and S^confi^ mature deliberation, completely free in its principles, in the dence of the distribution of 'its powers uniting security with energy, andi :,eo P le? containing within itself a provision for its own amendment, Wn £* duties has a j ust claim to your confidence and your support. Respect ermnen t °are for its authority, compliance with its laws, acquiescence in its enjoined by measures, are duties enjoined by the fundamental maxims true liberty! of true liberty. The basis of our political systems is the What is the right of the people to make and to alter their constitutions pouue^sys- of government. But the constitution which at any time terns? exists, until changed by an explicit and authentic act of the why is it whole people, is sacredly obligatory upon all. The very idea binding on of the power and the riffht of the people to established e y«yindi- • government presupposes the duty ot every individual to 0De y ? obey the established government. 536 APPENDIX Irregular Opposition to Authorities. What is de- All obstructions to the execution of the laws, all combina- structive of tions and associations, under whatever plausible character, mentai n prin- w ^ tn the rea ^ d es ig n to direct, control, counteract, or awe the cipie ? regular deliberation and action of the constituted authorities, are destructive of this fundamental principle, and of fatal tendency. They serve to organize faction, to give it an arti- Mention ficial and extraordinary force, to put in the place of the dele- S ° > e t f b he £ ate( * w ^ °f tne nat i° n the w iH °f a party, often a small feared° from ^ ut artful and enterprising minority of the community ; and, such con- according to the alternate triumphs of different parties, to duct. make the public administration the mirror of the ill-concert- ed and incongruous projects of faction, rather than the organ of consistent and wholesome plans digested by common counsels, and modified by mutual interests. What are However combinations or associations of the above descrip- tions X of this t ^ on ma ^ now an( * ^en answer popular ends, they are likely, description in the course of time and things, to become potent engines likely to by which cunning, ambitious, and unprincipled men will be enabled to subvert the power of the people, and to usurp for themselves the reins of government, destroying afterward the very engines which have lifted them to unjust dominion. become ? Spirit of Innovation. To preserve Toward the preservation of your government, and the per- the s° ve "V manency of your present happy state, it is requisite not only should be that you steadily discountenance irregular opposition to its discounte- acknowledged authority, but also that yo ti resist with care the nanced and spirit of innovation upon its principles, however specious the J d * resis " pretext. One method of assault may be to effect in the forms What is one °^ ^ ne cons titution alterations which will impair the energy method of of the system, and thus to undermine what cannot be directly assault upon overthrown. In all the changes to which you may be invit- ment ? Vern " G< ^> rememDer that time and habit are at least as necessary to in the ^ X ** ie true character of government as of other human in- changes to stitutions : that experience is the surest standard by which which we are to test the real tendency of the existing constitution of a invited, country; that facility in changes, upon the credit of mere be remem- hypothesis and opinion, exposes to perpetual change, from bered ? the endless variety of hypothesis and opinion ; and remember, What espec- especially, that for the efficient management of your common ially should interest, in a country so extensive as ours, a government of as bered? em " mucn vigor as is consistent with the perfect security of liber- ty is indispensable. Liberty itself will find in such a govern- aent, with powers properly distributed and adjusted, its When is a surest guardian. It is, indeed, little else than a name, where government the government is too feeble to withstand the enterprises of than a SS faction, to confine each member of the society within the limits name? prescribed by the laws, and to maintain all in the secure and tranquil enjoyment of the rights of person and property. APPENDIX 537 Baneful Effects of the Spirit of Party. J have already intimated to you the danger of parties in Of what were the state, with particular reference to the founding of them the y t0 be on geographical discriminations. Let me now take a more ^fj spirit of° comprehensive view, and warn you in the most solemn man- party ? ner against the baneful effects of the spirit of party gene- rally. Where has This spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from our nature, the spirit of having its root in the strongest passions of the human mind, party its It exists under different shapes in all governments, more or L 00t ? . less stifled, controlled, or oppressed ; but in those of the popu- erament^is" lar form it is seen in its greatest rankness, and is truly their this spirit worst enemy. the greatest The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharp- Ty^V ened by the spirit of revenge natural to party dissension, su i te d from which in different ages and countries has perpetrated the the domina- most horrid enormities, is itself a frightful despotism. But^°^. ofone this leads at length to a more formal and permanent despot- a ^ tw ?* er ism. The disorders and miseries which result gradually in- To wtf at does cline the minds of men to seek security and repose in the >jjj? s state of absolute power of an individual ; and sooner or later, the c iine the" chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more fortunate minds of than his competitors, turns this disposition to the purposes ^en ? of his own elevation on the ruins of public liberty. taa^maJTe Without looking forward to an extremity of this kind, taken of this (which, nevertheless, ought not to be entirely out of sight,) disposition ? the common and continual mischiefs of the spirit of party are sufficient to make it the interest and duty of a wise people to discourage and restrain it. It serves always to distract the public councils and enfeeble What other the public administration. It agitates the community with ^^ ^ se ill-founded jealousies and false alarms ; kindles the animosity sp i r i t f of one part against another; foments, occasionally, riot and party? insurrection. It opens the door to foreign influence and cor- ruption, which find a facilitated access to the government itself, through the channels of party passions. Thus the pol- icy and the will of one country are subjected to the policy and will of another. Spirit of Party not to be encouraged. I* There is an opinion that parties in free countries are use- What may ful checks upon the administration of the government, and be f a * d in fa " serve to keep aliVe the spirit of liberty. This, within certain Ji° l s | D a' Wee limits, is probably true; and in governments of a monarch- country? ical cast, patriotism may look with indulgence, if not with favor, upon the spirity of party. But in those of a popular Whv slloul( j character, in governments purely elective, it is a spirit not not the spirit to be encouraged. From their natural tendency it is certain 01 * party be there will always be enough of that spirit for every salutary encoura S ed 3 538 APPENDIX. # purpose; and there being constant danger of excess, the effort ought to be, by force of public opinion, to mitigate and assuage it. A fire not to be quenched, it demands uniform vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest, instead of warming, it should consume. Encroachments to be avoided. in the de- It is important, likewise, that the habits of thinking in a pavtments of free country should inspire caution in those intrusted with ment n to * ts administration, to confine themselves within their respec- what'does tive constitutional spheres, avoiding, in the exercise of the the spirit of powers of one department, to encroach upon another. The ment tend? sp* 3 ^ of encroachment tends to consolidate the powers of all the departments in one, and thus to create, whatever the form of government, a real despotism. A just estimate of that love of power, and proneness to abuse it, which pre- dominates in the human heart, is sufficient to satisfy us of In the exer- the truth of this position. The necessity of reciprocal checks cise of P olit "in the exercise of political power, by dividing and distribut- what^has^ ^ n S ^ mto different dex)ositories, and constituting each the been evinced guardian of the public weal against invasions by the others, by experi- } ias been evinced by experiments ancient and modern, some of them in our country, and under our own eyes. To preserve them must be as necessary as to institute them. If, in the How should opinion of the people, the distribution or modification of tionai pmv- 11 " tae constitutional powers be in any particular wrong, let it ers be cor- be corrected by an amendment in the way which the constitu- rected? tion designates. But let there be no change by usurpation ; for though this in one instance may be the instrument of What is the good, it is the customary weapon by which free governments customary are destroyed. The precedent must always greatly over- c?ian*es f bv balance m permanent evil any partial or transient benefit usurpation ? which the use can at any time yield. Religion and Morality indispensable. What are in- Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political dispensable prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. political 8 ° I 11 vam would that man claim the tribute of patriotism who prosperity ? would labor to subvert these great pillars of human happi- Why cannot ness> these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. frioUabor to The mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought to subvert respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all them ? their connections with private and public felicity. Let it sim- Who should p]y De asked, where is the security for property, for reputa- cherfsh ti( ^ n > ^ or ^ e > ^ tne sense °f religious obligation desert the them? oaths which are the instruments of investigation in courts of With what justice? And let us with caution indulge the supposition are they in- that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever connected? mav ^ conceded to the influence of refined education on What Is ne- minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both for- APPENDIX. 539 t bid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclu- cessary to sion of religious principle. £n£ o?mo- It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a neces- raiity ? sary spring of popular government. The rule, indeed, ex- What do rea- tends with more or less force to every species of free govern- periencVfor- ment. Who that is a sincere friend to it can look with in- bid us to ex- difference upon attempts to shake the foundation of thepect? fabric? ™- Literary Institutions. popui g ar°gov- eminent ^ Promote, then, as an object of primary importance, insti- what should tutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In propor- ^ pr0 moted, tion as the structure of a government gives force to public as of prima- opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be enlight- \1*™% 0T ' ened. Public Credit, As a very important source of strength and security, che-Of what is rish public credit. One method of preserving it is to use it as public credit sparingly as possible, avoiding occasions of expense by cul-g^^T tivating peace, but remembering also that timely disburse- How may it ments to prepare for danger frequently prevent much greater ^ P^e- disbursements to repel it ; avoiding, likewise, the accumula- served • tion of debt, not only by shunning occasions of expense, but by vigorous exertions in times of peace to discharge the debts which unavoidable wars may have occasioned, not un- generously throwing upon posterity the burden which we Who ought ourselves ought to bear. The execution of these maxims be- £®£f ar ^ e longs to your representatives ; but it is necessary that public public debt ? opinion should cooperate. To facilitate to them the perform- ance of their duty, it is essential that you should practically What should bear in mind that toward the payment of debts there must a p^?? 1 ® be revenue ; that to have revenue there must be taxes ; {^r in* y that no taxes can be devised which are not more or less mind? inconvenient and unpleasant ; that the intrinsic embarrass- ment inseparable from the selection of the proper objects (which is always a choice of difficulties) ought to be a deci- sive motive for a candid construction of the conduct of the government in making it, and for a spirit of acquiescence in the measures for obtaining revenue which the public exi- gencies may at any time dictate. Good Faith and Justice is true Policy. Observe good faith and justice toward all nations ; culti- duct j 3 en ~ vate peace and harmony with all. Religion and morality joined by re- enjoin this conduct, and can it be that good policy does not Ugfajj and. equally enjoin it ? It will be worthy of a free, enlightened, "eliVs J good and (at no distant period) a great nation, to give to mankind policy ? the magnanimous and too novel example of a people always What is wor- guided by an exalted justice and benevolence. Who can^at^a- doubt that in the course of time and things the fruits of such tion ? 54:0 APPENDIX. What may a plan would richly repay any temporary advantages which the 6 fruits of mi » nt ^ e * ost ^y a stea( ty adherence to it? Can it be that such con- Providence has not connected the permanent felicity of a duct ? nation with virtue ? The experiment at least is recommend- is the Wh ^ e( ^ ky ever y sentiment which ennobles human nature. Alas ! manenWeii- is & rendered impossible by its vices ? city of a na- tion con- nected? Partialities dangerous. in the exe- I* 1 the execution of such a plan, nothing is more essential cution of than that permanent, inveterate antipathies against particular su b c , h a P lan ' nations, and passionate attachments for others, should be ex- be excluded? eluded, and that, in the place of them, just and amicable feel- What should ings toward all should be cultivated. The nation which in- be cuiti- dulges toward another an habitual hatred or an habitual fondness is in some degree a slave. It is a slave to its animo- sity or to its affection, either of which is sufficient to lead it Name some astra y from its duty and its interest. Antipathy in one nation of the evils against another disposes each more readily to offer insult and to be feared injury, to lay hold of slight causes of umbrage, and to be tMes intone nau » nt y an ^ intractable when accidental or trifling occasions nation of dispute occur. Hence frequent collisions, obstinate, enven- against an- omed, and bloody contests. The nation, prompted by ill will other. an( j resentment, sometimes impels to war the government, contrary to the best calculations of policy. The government sometimes participates in the national propensity, and adopts, through passion, what reason would reject ; at other times it makes the animosity of the nation subservient to projects of hostility instigated by pride, ambition, and other sinister and pernicious motives. The peace often, sometimes perhaps the liberty of nations, has been the victim. Name some So, likewise, a passionate attachment of one nation for of the evils another produces a variety of evils. Sympathy for the favor- passionate^ * te na ti° n > facilitating the illusion of an imaginary common attachment interest in cases where no real common interest exists, and in- of one nation fusing into one the enmities of the other, betrays the former for another. ^ nto a participation in the quarrels and wars of the latter, without adequate inducement or justification. It leads also to concessions to the favorite nation of privileges denied to others, which is apt doubly to injure the nation making the concessions, by unnecessarily parting with what ought to have been retained, and by exciting jealousy, ill will, and a dispo- sition to retaliate, in the parties from whom equal privileges are withheld ; and it gives to ambitious, corrupted, or delud- ed citizens (who devote themselves to the favorite nation) facility to betray or sacrifice the interests of their own coun- try without odium, sometimes even with popularity ; gilding, with the appearances of a virtuous sense of obligation, a com- mendable deference for public ofrinion, or a laudable zeal for public good, the base or foolish comj)liances of ambition, cor- ruption, or infatuation. APPENDIX. 541 As avenues to foreign influence in innumerable ways, such why are attachments are particularly alarming to the truly enlight- such attach- ened and independent patriot. How many opportunities do farming ? they afford to tamper with domestic factions, to practise the what oppor- arts of seduction, to mislead public opinion, to influence or tunities do awe the public councils ! Such an attachment of a small or they glve ? weak toward a great and powerful nation dooms the former to be the satellite of the latter. Foreign Influence and Alliances to be avoided. Against the insidious wiles of foreign influence (I conjure Against you to believe me, fellow-citizens) the jealousy of a free peo- ^ at - ea ^o"gy pie ought to be constantly awake, since history and expe- f a free peo- rience prove that foreign influence is one of the most baneful pie be con- foes of republican government. But that jealousy, to be use- stan * ly 9 ful, must be impartial, else it becomes the instrument of the q? foreign very influence to be avoided, instead of a defence against it. influence, Excessive partiality for one foreign nation, and excessive dis- w . hat do f s , like of another, cause those whom they actuate to see danger experience only on one side, and serve to veil and even second the arts prove ? of influence on the other. Real patriots, who may resist the J^ ho a £ e lia " intrigues of the favorite, are liable to become suspected and pe cted and odious, while its tools and dupes usurp the applause and odious when confidence of the people to surrender their interests. foreign influ- The great rule of conduct for us in regard to foreign na-^g]? 16 " tions is, in extending our commercial relations, to have with in regard to them as little political connection as possible. So far as we foreign na- have already formed engagements, let them be fulfilled with \f^ J^ perfect good faith. Here let us stop. rule of con- duct for this European Interests not ours. nation ? Europe has a set of primary interests which to us have ^ h y is it un- none or a very remote relation. Hence she must be engaged w ^ate this in frequent controversies, the causes of which are essentially nation with foreign to our concerns. Hence, therefore, it must be unwise those of Eu- in us to implicate ourselves by artificial ties in the ordinary rope ? vicissitudes of her politics, or the ordinary combinations and collisions of her friendships or enmities. Our detached and distant situation invites'and enables us If ^e remain to pursue a different course. If we remain one people, under undeVan ef- an efficient government, the period is not far off when we ficient gov- may defy material injury from external annoyance ; when we ernment, may take such an attitude as will cause the neutrality we f a ^ a V? may at any time resolve upon to be scrupulously respected ; when belligerent nations, under the impossibility of making acquisitions upon us, will not lightly hazard the giving us provocations ; when we may choose peace or war, as our in- terest, guided by justice, shall counsel. Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situation? Why quit our own to stand upon foreign ground ? Why, 542 APPENDIX. by interweaving our destiny with that of any part of Europe, entangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of European ambition, rivalship, interest, humor, or caprice ? What is the It is our true policy to steer clear of permanent alliances true policy with any portion of the foreign world ; so far, I mean, as we t/onas to al- are now at l^erty to ^° ^ J ? or ^ ei me not ^ e understood as liances? capable of patronizing infidelity to existing engagements. I hold the maxim no less applicable to public than to private affairs, that honesty is always the best policy. I repeat it, therefore, let those engagements be observed in their genuine sense. But in my opinion it is unnecessary, and would be unwise, to extend them. terrfo ^r 7 Taking care always to keep ourselves, by suitable estabiish- alhances'be m ents, on a respectable defensive posture, we may safely trust trusted ? to temporary alliances for extraordinary emergencies. Harmony and a Liberal Intercourse recommended. How are har- ™ on y a . n d a Harmony and a liberal intercourse with all nations are course re- er " recommended by policy, humanity, and interest. But even commended? our commercial policy should hold an equal and impartial What should hand, neither seeking nor granting exclusive favors or prefer- the r commer- ences '> consulting the natural course of things ; diffusing and cial policy diversifying by gentle means the streams of commerce, but of the coun- forcing nothing ; establishing, with powers so disposed, in iy • order to give trade a stable course, to define the rights of our merchants, and to enable the government to support them, conventional rules of intercourse, the best that present cir- cumstances and mutual opinion will permit, but temporary, With what an d liable to be from time to time abandoned or varied, as must favors experience and circumstances shall dictate ; constantly keep- froina na ~ 9 ing in view that it is folly in one nation to look for disin- epai ' terested favors from another ; that it must pay with a portion of its independence for whatever it may accept under that character ; that by such acceptance it may place itself in the • th condition of having given equivalents for nominal favors, an illusion 611 an d y et °f being reproached with ingratitude for not giving to expect more. There can be no greater error than to expect or cal- from nation culate upon real favors from nation to nation. 'Tis an illu- o na ion. s | Qn ^j^ experience must cure, which a just pride ought to discard. in offering i n offering to you, my countrymen, these counsels of an old Bef/to^ST an( * affectionate friend, I dare not hope they will make the countrymen, strong and lasting impression I could wish ; that they will what did not control the usual current of the passions, or prevent our nation hoiTen-oin 011 fr° m runnm £ tne course which has hitherto marked the des- them ? tiny of nations ; but if I may even flatter myself that they may be productive of some partial benefit, some occasional Butwhat did g 00( [ — that they may now and then recur to moderate the 10pc ' fury of party spirit, to warn against the mischiefs of foreign intrigue, to guard against the impostures of pretended patriot- APPENDIX. 543 ism — this hope will be a full recompense for the solicitude for your welfare by which they have been dictated. How far, in the discharge of my official duties, I have been To what does guided by the principles which have been delineated, thejJ^Wtw* public records and other evidences of my conduct must wit- these princi- ness to you and to the world. To myself the assurance of pies had _ my own conscience is, that I have at least believed myself to ^J^/j 13 be guided by them. Neutrality the Policy of the Nation. In relation to the still subsisting war in Europe, my procla-ln regard to mation of the 22d of April, 1793, is the index to my plan. f^™ iQ Sanctioned by your approving voice, and by that of your rep- W hat P was the resentatives in both houses of Congress, the spirit of that index to his measure has continually governed me, uninfluenced by anyP lan? attempts to deter or divert me from it. was^thS* After deliberate examination, with the aid of the best measure lights I could obtain, I was well satisfied that our country, sanctioned ? under all the circumstances of the case, had a right to take, tionfin view and was bound in duty and interest to take, a neutral posi- of European tion. Having taken it, I determined, as far as should depend affairs, had on me, to maintain it with moderation, perseverance, and firm-^^u^ 17 ness. take? The considerations which respect the right to hold this How did he conduct it is not necessary on this occasion to detail. I will mafntain^t ? only observe that, according to my understanding of the who virtu- ' matter, that right, so far from being denied by any of the bel-aiiy admit-" ligerent powers, has been virtually admitted by all. of d neutranty The duty of holding a neutral conduct may be inferred, i n this coun- without any thing more, from the obligation which justice try? and humanity impose on every nation, in cases in which it isH 0W 1 n J ay f free to act, to maintain inviolate the relations of peace and hokUn/a° amity toward other nations. neutral con- The inducements of interest for observing that conduct will j?JJ£t °e in " best be referred to your own reflections and experience. With §11 what did me a predominant motive has been to endeavor to gain time Washington to our country to settle and mature its yet recent institutions, endeavor to and to progress without interruption to that degree of ourcountry? strength and consistency which is necessary to give it, hu- manly speaking, the command of its own fortunes. Conclusion. m what was Washington Though, in reviewing the incidents of my administration, sensible of I am unconscious of intentional error, I am nevertheless too unconscious sensible of my defects not to think it probable that I may of intention- have committed many errors. Whatever they may be, I fer- ai error ? vent! y beseech the Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to ^ beseech ld which they may tend. I shall also carry with me the hope, the Ai- that my country will never cease to view them with indul- mighty ? 54:4 APPENDIX. What did he gence ; and that, after forty-five years of my life dedicated to his P countrv?* ts sery i ce > with an upright zeal, the faults of incompetent What por- ' abilities will be consigned to oblivion, as myself must soon be tion of his to the mansions of rest. i if ent a fn b< the R e ty m & onits kindness in this as in other things, and actu- service of hinted by that fervent love toward it which is so natural to a country ? man who views in it the native soil of himself and his pro- Did he ex- genitors for several generations, I anticipate, with pleasing fident hope* expectation, that retreat, in which I promise myself to realize, of future without alloy, the sweet enjoyment of partaking, in the rest ? midst of my fellow-citizens, the benign influence of good laws Ms country's un( ^ er a free government — the ever favorite object of my kindness, heart, and the happy reward, as I trust, of our mutual cares, what did he labors, and dangers. ofX/was GEORGE WASHINGTON. pyrewardT United /States, Sept, 17, 1796.