Book COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT I \ COBB'S SPEAKER; CONTAINING AMPLE EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION PEOSE, POETRY, AND DIALOGUES, FROM MOST ESTEEMED NATIVE AND FOREIGN WEITEES. ALSO, AN" INTBODITCTION; CONTAINING THE PKINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION VERY FULLY EXEMPLIFIED BY ILLUSTRATIONS. DESIGNED FOR THE USE OF ACADEMIES AND THE HIGHER. CLASSES IN PUBLIC AND V BY LYMAN COBB, A.M. NEW YOEK: PUBLISHED BY J. C. RIKER, 129 FULTON-STREET. 185 2. o^ « 1/ Entkrkd, BCCOrding to Act of Congress, in the your 1858, by i). ii . c B r it i: \ i) E \, In the Clerks Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York. STEREOTYPED BT THOMAS B. SMM'H, 216 William St., N. Y. PREFACE. The increasing popularity of " Cobb's Series of Readers, est Five Numbers," and the frequent solicitations of teachers and school offi- cers that a Speaker, or Sixth Keader, should be added to the series, containing a great number and variety of pieces for exercise in decla- mation and dialogues, have induced the author to compile the fol- lowing work. Beading and Speaking are, of all the departments of learning, the most important. The great body of the people of this country have become convinced of this ; and, as a natural consequence, they are giving increased attention to the subject of Reading and Elocution. It is, therefore, as would be expected, that books and treatises, on the subject of Elocution, have been greatly multiplied within the past few years. Hence, it has not been as necessary that very ex- tended rules or examples for exercise should be given in a work of this kind, more particularly as from the living teacher, almost en- tirely, the pupil must receive his instruction and correction by illus- trations of the teacher. In this view of the subject, the author has not given as many ex- amples as will be found in some other similar works ; yet, it is be- lieved that a sufficient number has been given, under each head, to answer every practical purpose, particularly as the variety and style of pieces in the body of the book are very extensive, to which, in practice and exercise, the several rules can be applied. Again ; it may be said of reading with more propriety than of any thing else, that, to do it right, it should be " done well." It is not the reading of page after page that will necessarily make a good reader in con- sequence of the amount which has been read ; but the manner in which those pages were read. Sometimes a sentence or paragraph may be profitably read or exercised on for fifteen or twenty minutes, or even half an hour, until every thing peculiar in it has become per- fectly understood and completely mastered by the pupil. This VI PREFACE. should be done on the principle that, if a scholar cm read l given sentence correctly, he can read any number of Benteooef of similar character correctly. No scholar should be permitted, the r e fo re, to paw from one sentence or paragraph to the next, until he has made himself thoroughly acquainted with every particular point and fea- ture in it. Many pieces have been inserted specially for declamation ; still, any one of the pieces can be spoken or repeated by ■ pnj.il selected for the purpose, regard being bad to his fitness; or, as to the defects in his reading or speaking, so that he may be required to speak a piece particularly adapted to remedy such defects. In this way should every pupil be e\erci-ed. It will he Well while any one ot the exercises is going on, for all of the other pupils of the dass to criticise the speaking or reading : each one having a pencil and piece of paper in hand to n-.te down what he considers defective or faulty in the reader or speaker. At the close of the exercise the pupiU can mention what they have noted down as wrong, the teacher approv- ing or disapproving of the criticisms. Sometimes it may he well, also, for the pupils to express their opinions as to the oorreotoi propriety of the criticism under consideration, giving their reasons, if time will permit. In this way, it is believed, that better readers and speakers can be made than by any other method, as the schol- ars, by this plan, become accustomed to read onderstandingry, hav- ing exercised their own judgment in regard to the criticism on each piece or paragraph, as the case may be. This practice has this ad- ditional advantage, also, that it strengthens and improves the judgment, and skill of the scholar, and fits him for criticism in other matters, either of art, science, or mechanics. In short, it may. with truth, be said, that a scholar who is a thorough critic in the art of reading or speaking, is fitted for criticism in any other branch of learning or to pursue usefully and with good ju-ospects of success any other study whatever in which maturity of judgment is neces- sary. In the preceding Reading Books of the Series, definitions of all the words, as they occur in the several Reading Lessons, have been given. This system, it is believed, will cause the scholar more thoroughly to understand the piece which he is to read, and, consequently, to read it with more interest than he would, if unacquainted with many of the important and prominent words contained in the Reading Lessons. In this way, too., the scholar will form the habit of in- PREFACE. vii quiring into or ascertaining the meaning of the words which com- pose the Lesson, or any piece or work for future reading. In this work, the definitions have been omitted, on the supposition that the scholars will have been sufficiently exercised and practised in the preceding Headers. It is fully believed, that exercises in the recitation of pieces of poetry will, in many respects, better improve the modulations and inflections of the voice than exercises in prose. This, however, is doubted by many. Still, as many excellent teachers have confidence in this plan, both from observation and experience, it will be well for each teacher, at least to make the experiment until he shall be convinced or not of its utility. The author, not wishing those teachers, who may adopt this work, to try every new system which may be offered for their considera- tion, would, however, respectfully recommend that every well ap- proved system which has been attested by practical and experienced teachers should have a fair trial at their hands. By this course, they will, at least, be able to form a correct opinion as to the com- parative importance or utility of each system, and to select that one which, all things considered, seems to them the best adapted to the purpose of making practical, thorough, and intelligent readers and public speakers. In our country, more than in any other, should the principles and rules of Elocution be known by every young man in the community. Here encouragement is given to learning, and to the general diffu- sion of knowledge. Much of the learning and influence of most young men is lost by their total neglect of the study of this branch of education. Many young men, well educated otherwise, find, on coming into society, greatly to their regret and mortification, that they are unable to utter, before a public audience, those thoughts which they "would gladly make known, and by a knowledge ofj which, in many instances, society would be greatly benefited. Language or speech being the highest attribute of man, its cultiva- tion in every country, but particularly under a free government like ours, is of the very highest importance, where so many aspire to places of usefulness and honorable distinction. The true interests of our country, every year, more and more increase this importance and present stronger reasons for preparing every young man of this republic to be able to meet any and every emergency which may arise. So many questions of vital importance to the existence of Vlll PREFACE. our social, religious, and civil institutions, and even to th< of the government itself, are being discussed and agitated all over our land, that the times require men who are able, in public assem- blies, with eloquence as well as patriotism, to defend the rights and true interests of our country. To the school-room, and to that alone, can we, with confidence and just hope, look for tin- youth who are to be the future men to advocate and sustain the purity of public morals, our civil institutions, and the all-important, in: of learning, science, and the arts, by which our nation nil bet! pros- pered, and thus far, has so gloriously flourished*. The pieces, both for speaking and reading, -which form the g portion of this work, have been selected with great care ami atten- tion, both with regard to their adaptedneas to the practice or cise in speaking and reading, and to their influence on the minds and tastes of pupils in enabling them to form a oorrectand high standard of excellence, both in subject ami in -tylc. Great care and attention have also been bestowed in the selection of the pieces as to their beneficial effects, in training the minds of the young to the observ- ance and practice of noble and elevated sentiments and practical virtues. With these views, the author, grateful for the extensive patronage bestowed on his past production-, presents the following work to the public, hopeful that this will be equally well received and h. beneficial effect upon the minds and interests, both present and fu- ture, of the rising generation. Lyman Cobb. New York, April 8, 1852. NOTE. The author, in compliance with the request of many teachers, has given the Spelling Lessons, in Nos. I. and II. without definitions, and has in- serted in their place, some additional Reading Lessons. These two Read- ers will, however, be printed in both forms, with and without definitions, that teachers may use which form they prefer. He has also added sev- eral pages of new Lessons to the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Readers, which it is believed will make these books more valuable. These three books, however, can be used with the former editions, as no change has been made in the old Lessons. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. Page Principles of Elocution ^ 15 Chap. I. — Articulation 16 Elementary Vowel Sounds, Explosion of 18 Elementary Consonant Sounds, Vocal Consonants 19 Aspirate Consonants, Correlatives, Explosion of El. Con. Sounds 20 Combination of the Consonant Elements 21 Faults and Difficulties in Articulation. 22 First, Second, Third Fault or Difficulty 23 Fourth, Fifth, Sixth Fault or Difficulty -. 23 Examples for Miscellaneous Exercise 24 Chap. II. — -Inflections 25 Examples of the Rising and Falling Inflection 25 Rules for the use of Inflections 26 Rule I. — Interrogative Sentences 26 II. — Interrogative Exclamations 27 III. — Pause of Suspension 27 IV. — Antithesis or Contrast * 27 V. — Expressive of Tender Emotion 28 VI. — Indirect Questions 28 VII. — Authority, Surprise, &c 28 VIII. — Commencing Series 28 IX. — Concluding Series 29 X. — Circumflex 29 XL — Monotone 4 29 Chap. III. — Modulation 30 Pitch of the Voice 30 Quantity 31 Quality ■. 32 Chap. IV. — Accent . ; 32 Chap. V. — Emphasis 34 Poetic Pauses or Manner of Reading Verse . . . . 35 Rhetorical Pauses 37 Chap. VI. — Gestures 38 Representations of many of the Emotions, Passions, and Feel- ings of the Human Mind 39 Devotion, Supplication 39 Admiration, Joy, Narration 40 Firmness, Argument, Authority 41 Amazement, Disappointment, Aversion 42 Despondency, Tenor, Distress 43 Anger 44 Particular Faults in Gestures 45 1* CONTENTS. PROSE. Lesson Pago 1. Enlightened Philanthropy. Extract from an Addreai delivered atRaleigb II P. Pm 17 2. Instruction by Lectures B. P. Butler 49 3. Educational Wants of the West. . .Rev. Hkmri Wa&d lii.i c hkr 62 4. Rural Life in England luvr- 6. A Winter Landscape in Russia R. K. J '<">■ 7. Egyptian Pyramids R D, 8. Visiting the Poor and Neglected Rav. < taviixi Dawn »',:; 9. Claims of the Indians. — Southern Review Oou Dbai b 11. Conquest of Mexico. Description of the Capital Pj 12. Internal Structure of the Earth. Book of Nature //■/'/• 13. The Prairies Jamks Ball 7/5 14. The Mariner's Oompasfl ■■' ( WAttA 7* 16. Intellect k W. Kmi ft* 17. Speech of a Native Iroquois Da. I'i raa Witai 18. The Turks at a Fire l>- Vert, Sh t, I,- 19. Recollections of China Mas. Cajlolini II. I'-i 1 1 I 20. Social Duties (I.B. Kmur.m.n 98 22. History of England \faeatU§y '.'7 23. Supply of Water in Constantinople Da. Dj kay 99 24. Proverbs of Solomon BibU 1**1 25. Early Genius William Laoosn 105 27. Maternal Wisdom H. N. Hi DOOM 108 28. Traits of Indian Character Irvino 1 10 30. The Salt-mines of Europe. . . Hakikus Nkw Monthly Maoazim: 1 IS 32. Mount Etna Clark J* Wondt r* of the World 1 20 33. The Quantity of Matter in the Universe Dick 1 M 34. Character and Condition of the Western Indians. Gi m 1_'"> 36. The Desert of Zahara Buck* 1 80 37. Chancellor Livingston Da. John W. Fran< i- 181 38. A Prairie on Fire George W. Kendall 188 39. Do Concluded Do 137 40. The Natural Advantages of America William Kknt 140 41. A well cultivated Mind forms an essential Ingredient of Female Education Rev. Dr. Gardiner Si-rim; 148 42. Passing through an Iceberg Arctic Expedition 145 43. Interview of Cortes and Montezuma Prescott 148 45. A Perilous Situation Audubon ] 54 46. The Creator to be Remembered in Youth Bible 158 47. St. Peter's Church at Rome Headley 159 48. Tribute to the New England Colonists Burke 162 49. The Chippewa Chiefs and General Taylor National Era 163 51. Our Wondrous Atmosphere Quarterly Review 166 52. Education in Prussia Rochester Gem 108 53. A Pilgrimage to the Cradle of American Liberty. .B.J. Lobbing 170 55. The Goodness of Charity Bible 176 56. Governments of Will, and Governments of Law Wayland 177 57. The National Character. Southern Review. . .General Hayne 179 58. The Country Church Irving 180 60. Character of the Puritans Macaulay 186 61. Exploring Expedition to the Rocky Mountains. . .Capt. Fremont 188 63. Washington in Retirement Spabks 194 CONTENTS. XI Lesson Page 64. The Former and Present Condition of the State of N. Y. . Bancroft 19G 65. Oration on the Death of General Washington . Rev. Dr. J. M. Mason 198 66. The Rights of Women Mrs. Sigourney 200 67. Speech in Favor of permitting the British Refugees to return to the United States Patrick Henry 202 69. Derbyshire (England) Caverns Anonymous 205 70. Physical and Moral Greatness of America Phillips 207 72. Whaling off the Cape of Good Hope .. Dickens' Household Words 210 . 73. Speech in the Senate of the United States in Relation to South Carolina Hayne 214 74. Speech in Reply to the preceding Webster 215 76. Education — Extract from an Address at Amherst. . . .Humphrey 218 77. The lone Indian Miss Francis 219 78. Abbotsford. — First Visit to Europe Andrew Dickinson 221 79. Debt due to the Soldiers of the Revolution Peleg Sprague 224 82. Paul's Defence before King Agrippa Bible 229 83. Conflict with an ' Elephant '. Gumming 231 84. Proofs of the Rotundity of the Earth Malte-Brun 235 85. The Ruins of Time Milford Bard 238 87. Character of the Irish Patriots of 1798 S. D. Langtree 241 88. The Advantages of a Taste for the Beauties of Nature. .Percival 243 89. Progress of Society Dr. Channing 245 91. North American Indians Joseph Story 248 92. Propelling Powers employed by Man ; Ewbank 251 95. Adams and Napoleon William H. Seward 258 96. Effects of a Dissolution of the Union Hamilton 261 97. Patriotism and Eloquence of John Adams Webster 263 98. Speechof the Scythian Ambassadors to Alexander Quintus Curtius 269 100. Address at the Opening of the Newark Library Associa- tion Rev. Samuel I. Prime 274 101. Mr. Prime's Address, Concluded Do 278 102. Rural Funerals Irving 280 103. Sympathy Wrights Casket 282 104. Immorality of Large Cities Rev. Orville Dewey 283 105. Curious Social Habits of the Osages Cherokee Advocate 286 106. Intemperance Rev. Dr. Lyman Beechkr 287 108. The Deserted Children Cincinnati Paper 292 109. Observance of the Sabbath Rev. Dr. Gardiner Spring 294 110. Extract from an Election Discourse at Montpelier . Rev. Dr. Fisk 296 112. Instability of Life Job. Bible 301 113. Comets. Information for the People 302 114. Greatness of the United States Hunt's Merchant's Mag. 305 116. Old Wyoming Tales of the Revolution 307 118. The Settlement of New England Webster 313 120. Capillary Attraction Library of Useful Knowledge 317 121. Mistakes in Personal Identity Diesis" Household Words 319 122. Formation of Character — Address at Dickinson College. . . .How 321 124. The Diving Bell Dr. Lardner 327 126. Books for the Fire Southey 332 128. Scenes in the Alps Note Book of an American Lady 335 129. Pilgrim's Progress Macaulay 336 130. Specific Gravities Dr. Lardner 339 132. Hot Springs of Iceland Henderson 345 133. Do.... Concluded Do.... 347 134. Invasion of Switzerland by the French, , Sydney Smith 350 Xll CONTENTS. Lesson Pfcfl 135. A Turkish Bath Albert Smith 138. Unwritten Music N. P. VflUW 196. David's Lamentation for Saul and Jonathan 140. The Pleasures of Old Age Diary of Lady WilUmgho% . . Of Delays Lord 142. Eulogy on Chancellor Livingston and R. Fulton. Di Wm Ol 14;^. Genius and its Rewards M 145. Western Prairies LtTKBAfcl Kmi 146. Character of Tecnmseh 8n on I V\ 1 148. The Missouri River T. FLINT'S HlBTOM OF TB* W] 149. Sources of Mi-en, in the Pr< sent World Th&ma* Dick 383 150. Speech on the Bill for the Relief of the Widow of General Har- rison 161. Immense Natural Bee hive I 154. Westminster Abbey 155. The Rains of Ohi ('hen 15. M. ffoBMAl 157. Cooking on Mount Vesurios. . . .Hkadlx* i aon \i\i.\ 159. The Handsome and Deformed Leg Da. FaamttU 160 My Mother's Room Sm raaaM Churchman 401 161. Duty of Educating the Poor GaazKWooo vn 162. Of Prudence in Reproving BibL 163. Romance of the Nineteenth Century B 407 164. Duties of Parents I. Abbott 41<) 165. The Fourteenth Congress R H. Wu.i.l 41 1 167. On Honesty— Letter to a Bon I). 1). T. L 4l»; 168. Encounter frith an [oeb< rat. . B m:i-i.u 'a Ni a Monthly M.v.azinl 418 169. Addre-s to Lafayette at his Departure .J. Q. Ad 170. Reply to the Preceding Laj P72. Advancement of Society C. Mason 129 174. American Enterprise Hunt's Mkrohakt's Machine 482 175. The Good Samaritan Bibli 178. Passage across the Andes Hi a Noras 1-7 181. Character of Mr. Pitt Rob* rise* 1 IS 1 82. Life of a Naturalist J. J. A 183. Speech before Lord Norbury, Dublin Robe, 188. The Lily of the Mountain Literary Emporium 469 189. How Pain can be a Cause of Delight Bwrht 468 190. Division of Labor Adam Smith 1 63 192. Extract from Washington's Farewell Address 467 193. The Mammoth Cave of Kentucky . Concklin's New River Guide 470 197. Genius Fanny Forrester 47'J 198. Evening Library of Entertaining Knowledge 48*2 200. The Blind Preacher Wiai 201. Speech of Brutus on the Death of Cesar Shak*pear>, 210. Speech of Antony over the Dead Body of Cesar Do.. . . 62 1 216. The Training of the Intellect D. H. Cruttenden v / 220. Hamilton and Jay Dr. F. L. Hawk- 222. Grecian and Roman Eloquence J. Q. Adams 5 i '.* 227. Kossuth's Speech at Philadelphia 229. Eulogy on Adams and Jefferson Edward Everri 231. The Drunkard and his Bottle S. W. Srroa 232. Awake Zion. — Isaiah lii Bib/, 235. Tribute to Washington W. H. Harrison 236. Speech of Hannibal to his Soldiers Livy 574 CONTENTS. Xlll POETRY. Lesson Page 5. Battle with Life Dickens' Household Words 59 10. To the Susquehanna, on its Junction with the Lackawan- na .' Mrs. Sigourney 6*7 15. The Crowded Street W. C. Bryant 80 21. On Seeing a Beautiful Boy at Play N. P. Willis 95 26. Aspirations of Youth .Montgomery 107 29. Home for the Friendless N. P. Willis 1 14 31. Speak Boldly Wm. Oland Bourne 119 35. Excelsior Longfellow 128 44. The Bible Rev. Ralph Hoyt 152 50. " Oh Mother, would the Power were mine". .Margaret Davidson 165 54. " Let not your Heart be troubled" Jessie Glenn 175 59. The Hour of Death Mrs. Hemans 185 62. Brain Work and Hand Work Charles Street 1 92 63. The Grave of Washington S. M. Pike 195 68. Graves of the Poor Gray 203 71. The Eagle and the Swan From the German 208 75. The Traveller at the Red Sea Miss H. F. Gould 217 80. The Chieftain's Daughter George P. Morris 227 81. " Search the Scriptures" 228 86. A Winter's Night in the Wilderness Thomas Buchanan Read 239 90. Battle of Warsaw Campbell 247 93. The Wreck Mrs. Hemans 255 94. The Winds Miss H. F. Gould 257 99. A Mother's Love < Montgomery 271 107. The Rail- way Dublin University Magazine 290 111. Father Mathew giving the Temperance Pledge. .Mrs. Sigourney 299 115. Battle of Hohenlinden Campbell 306 117. The Prisoner's Address to his Mother CM. 311- 119. The Return of Spring Bayard Taylor 316 123. Apostrophe to Mont Blanc Coleridge 324 125. The Departed Park Benjamin 331 127. The Village Blacksmith Longfellow 333 131. Woodman, Spare that Tree George P. Morris 344 136. Summer Evening W. C. Bryant 355 137. Autumn... N. E. Magazine 357 141. The Lament of the Sightless Jessie Glenn 362 144. The Home -for the Friendless Mrs. F. S. Osgood 369 147. The Death of Napoleon Isaac McClelland, Junr. 376 152. The Evening Wind W. C. Bryant 388 153. The Indian Hunter Eliza Cook 389 156. The Star of Bethlehem H. K. White 397 158. To Young Students Mrs. E. C. Embury 398 166. The Last Man Campbell 414 171. " Blessed are they that Mourn" W. C. Bryant 428 173. " Live them down" Cincinnati Expositor 431 176. Address to the Condor Mrs. Ellett 434 177. New England J. G. Percival 435 179. Lake Wyalusing William H. C. Hosmer 439 180. Extract from " Messiah" Pope 44] 184. Red Jacket, the Indian Chief F. G. Halleck 453 185. A Son? for Youth Barstow 455 Xiv CONTEJ N iagara Falls Beainkeh 456 187. 1 be Family Meeting (haw Si-ham 191. Jephthab's Daughter V. P. Wiu 194. l\ie!i/.i> Address to the Romans Mim M it turd 475 Horning in Spring Ge<»r<,e D. 1'kkmi 196. The Dying Chriatuo to his Boul p* 478 ..'ration Mrs. I 902. Marco Bozzari- F. G. Hallk k 4-^ Elijah's Interview M< LkLLA.NH. Jl NE. 550 Mes. L. H. Cmvrnam Mother's Gift.— The Bible W. V 234. '■ Forgive" Bishop fft ' -anzas R. H. Wilde 570 DIALOGU1 203. Spirit of '76. A Temperance Dialogue EL W. Set : reliant of Venice Skwktpm T 907. Alexander the Great and a Robber Dr. Atibm 514 rutus and Cassius r« 516 211. Fill of Cardinal Wolsey S 212. Pizarro and Gomez Kotzebue 52y 213. Rolla and Alonzo Do. . 215. Self-int. r< -t — Derby and Scrapewell 218. Col. Rhren end Sir "Harry 541 219. Lovegold and James Fin m- 221. Charles II. and William Penn Fxmro M Pi be ColonisCfl Dr. Aiken. 552 226. Scene from Virginius / & Kium 230. Scene from the Tragedy of Cataline Rev. G. Croly 563 233. Genuine Friendship and Magnanimity. — Pythias, Damon. Dio- nvsius Ftnelon 570 INTRODUCTION. PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. As tue Principles of Elocution form the basis of a depart- ment of ornamental as well as practical education, in which the art of speaking and reading is to be attained and pursued in ac- cordance with a certain established standard of elegance, a thor- ough and practical acquaintance with these Principles can not be too highly valued or appreciated by every person, who either hopes or wishes to become a correct or elegant speaker or reader ; and they should, therefore, receive his first attention. In giving instruction in this art, two objects should be constantly kept in view : good conversational speech ; and the power of making for- mal addresses, and reading aloud with ease and effect. In our own country, where the advantages of education are open to all, and where so many persons are also liable to be called on to speak in public, a practical knowledge of these Principles is of inestimable value, not only to the professedly learned, but even to persons in the ordinary or common avocations of life. Every person having this knowledge can render more effective what he utters, either in speaking or reading ; and, at the same time, it not only promotes an easy and graceful delivery, but also enables him to rivet or enchain the attention of the hearer. The human voice, like every other faculty, is susceptible of very great improvement, by proper culture and discipline. There is also this advantage, that, by a proper exercise of the Principles of Elocution, the health and vigor XVI INTRODUCTION. of the vocal organs are greatly promoted. To neglect, therefore, the cultivation and improvement of the human voice, and the lull development of its powers, is, to say the least of it, very censurable on the part of those, who have the management and control of elementary instruction. Much of this instruction must he given by the living instructer; still, some rules and principle! will be very useful. Some of tkese kave been treated of in the Beqnel or Fourth Reader, and in the North American or Fifth Reader, in this work they are more extended and more practically illustrated. ELOCUTION is properly divided into, and should be considered under, the fol- lowing heads : I. — Articulation. II. — Inflections. III. — Modulation. IV. — Accent. V. — Emphasis. VI. — Gestures. CHAPTER I. articulation. Articulation comprehends distinctness of utterance of the dif- ferent sounds of the language, including Enunciation and Pro- nunciation. Proper and correct articulation is the most important exercise of the voice and of the organs of speech. Any public speaker who possesses only a moderate voice, if he articulate correctly, will be better understood, and heard with greater pleasure, than one who speaks in a loud and vociferous manner without judgment. In just articulation the words are not to be hurried over, or pre- cipitated syllable over syllable, or, as it were, melted together into ARTICULATION. XV11 a mass of confusion ; but, they should be delivered from the lips, perfectly finished, distinct, sharp, in due succession, and of due weight. The difficulty of acquiring a correct articulation being unusually great in the EDglish language, the foundation should be laid at an early age, when the organs are most pliable and tractable ; for, it will be found, that the habit of defective and in- distinct articulation is generally contracted in the first stages of the learner's progress, and arises either from indolence, which causes a drawling or indistinct utterance ; or, from too great haste, which leads to the running of words together, or to clipping them by dropping unaccented words and final consonants. Habits of this kind, if permitted, very soon become so inveterate that it is almost impossible, even with the most unremitting attention on the part both of teacher and pupil, to correct them. In order to give a thorough and correct articulation, or to cor- rect a monotonous style of reading and speaking which may have been formed at an early age, the pupil should first practise a thoroughly distinct and easy enunciation of the elemental sounds of the language : then enunciate these sounds in their combination into words so as to become perfectly familiar with the appearance of words, and be able to call their names readily, at sight. To accomplish all that is desirable much exercise is necessary. The learner should practise perseveringly upon these elementary sounds until he has acquired a complete control of his organs of speech. This exercise is of the greatest importance, as, in addition to the formation of correct habits of articulation, it imparts great strength and efficiency to the voice, which can not be as effectually acquired in any other way. A speaker or reader, too, who is able fully and clearly to enunciate all these sounds, will be listened to by an audience with greater pleasure, interest, and attention. This ac- quisition, also, enables any one readily to distinguish between the educated and uneducated, as the latter are especially wanting in propriety, clearness, grace, and ease of utterance. The vowels being the most prominent elements of words, and also being the most easily uttered, they are here made to consti- tute the first lesson. xvm INTRODUCTION. ELEMENTARY VOWEL SOUNDS. Long a, as heard in Flat a, . . Broad a long, Do. represented by o, Broad a short, Do. represented by o, Short a, . , Long e, . Short e, . . Long i, Short i, Long o, Slender o, Long u, . Short u, . Obtuse u, Oi a.id oy, Ou, and ow, hate, rain, ray, rein, break. mar. ah, daunt, heart, gu#rd. call, war, quart, caught, raw, broad, sought. for, nor, corner. what, want, quarrel. hot, morrow, coroner. " hat, man, commercial, platcL he. reel, neat, cither, grieve, key, people, capr/ce. men, tread, friend, heifer, jeopud, gu^ss, again, says, many, b//ry. vine, lie, height, guise, dry, buy, rye, aisle. hit, sieve, surfeit, guilt, fountain, marriage, hymn, been, busy. no, fold, floor, foam, foe, though, follow, yeoman, bu- reau. prove, room, shoe, group, rule, true, fruit, brew. m»te, glue, sluice, feud, beauty, adieu, view, Hew. cut, fur, her, bird, love, flood, does. full, wolf, good, should. toil, joy. shout, bower. EXPLOSION OF THE ELEMENTARY VOWEL SOUNDS. Any one of the preceding elements can be uttered with great quickness and force, so as to give a distinct expression of its sound. The scholar should be required to explode from the throat, every one of the elements in the preceding table, with the greatest de- gree of quickness and force, until he is able to do it with accuracy and ease. Each sound should first be made slowly in a very low whisper, increasing it gradually in force to the full extent of the whispering voice. Afterward the exercise may be increased in quickness. Then, in like manner, the different sounds may each be vocally expressed, increasing gradually from soft or low to loud and quick. Great care should be taken to avoid all aspiration, that the sound of the vowel only should be heard. In these and all other elocutionary exercises, the body should be in an erect and easy posture. The shoulders, when it can be done with ease and ARTICULATION. XIX gracefulness, should also be thrown gently back. It will be well, after the scholar has been thoroughly exercised in exploding the sounds of the preceding table, to explode all the vowel elements in one sentence of every lesson which he reads. ELEMENTARY CONSONANT SOUNDS. The Consonant elements are susceptible of a greater or less degree of explosive force. b as heard in globe. d cc dead. t <( tin. f (< field. V (c vine. g <( bag-. w it wise. why. h (< Aand. y H year. J a >r, age. z M ^eal, as. k « kid, cup, cAasm. ng " vfing. 1 a Zate. sh (( ship, machine. m u maim. ch (( church. n a nine. th C( thin, both. P u pipe. th << thou, then. r (rough) ran. zh « seizure, osier. r (smooth) bard, bar. wh it what, when. s as heard in sat, nice. The Consonant elements are naturally divided into two classes : the Vocal, and the Aspirate. The Vocal Consonants are or may be uttered in a suppressed or under tone. The Aspirate Consonants are simple emissions of the breath, or modified breath- ings. A portion of the consonant elements, being mutually re- lated, are properly called Correlatives : one being an aspirate ; the other a vocal ; as pound and found. VOCAL CONSONANTS. r (rough) Z>at. r (smooth) in far. dark. V " vice. gate. w " was. Jar, page. y " yon. Zand. z " .s-one, prose. mark. th " that. wight. ng " &nng. run. zh " a^ure, brasier. XX INTRODUCTION. A8PI RATE CO NSONANTS. CORRELATIVES. f in /arm. f in /lie V in rile. h U hall k in feeen g in £ear. k " key, cat, ache. P in ;>ane b in b&ne. P N pme. s in seal z in xreal. 8 II sink. t in due d in •'/in.-. t U tone. th in (horn th in Men. ch (( chip. sh in shine zh in treasure. ■h U sheep. ch in cAat J in j/'ail. th « thick. EXPLOSION OF THE ELEMENTARY CONSONANT 80UND8. As many syllables are composed chiefly of consonant sounds ; and, as articulation is moiv frequently defective from an indistinct or imperfect enunciation or explosion of these consonant sounds, it is of the greatest importance that the scholar should become per- fectly familiar with them. They can not, it is true, be exploded with the same force which vowel sounds admit, yet their sounds can be prolonged so as to give them great distinctness. A few attempts will prove this. Every one should be practised upon until the scholar can give the sound distinctly and forcibly. Let him begin with ba, and in sounding or exploding it, let the voice be quickly suspended before it passes to the vowel. And so on. With this practice, and in no other way, will the pupil be able to utter distinctly such combinations as the following : dri/tast, pass- ed, suffketh, heasts, se&rchedst, &c. He who can enunciate or explode the consonants with clearness, precision, and accuracy, will, when speaking or reading to a large audience, be heard and understood, though his voice be weak and feeble ; while he who slurs or mumbles them will not be distinctly heard, though, with a strong voice, he should be loud and vociferous. As suggested in relation to the vowel elements, it will be well, after the scholar has been thoroughly exercised in exploding the sounds of the pre- ceding table, to explode all the consonants in one sentence of every piece which he reads. As a second step, however, the following and similar combinations of consonants should be exploded : ARTICULATION. XXI bl, gl, pi, br, fr, gr, pr, rb, rd, rm, sk, sp, st, spl, str, sts, dst, shr, sld, ftb, fths, rnid, blst, rndst, pts, rdst, bl'dst, nkl, gl'dst, zl'd'st, ngd, spdst, ldst, nths, ngl'd'st, &c. Then words containing tbem should be pronounced or exploded : blasts, griefs, pleasest, breadths, shroud, shifts, Christ's, drifts, whelms, depths, wharfs, fifths, truths, strength, rasps, spheres, shrieks, shrinks, twelfth, scythes, prisms, nymphs, feasts, thrusts, wept, slept, expects, arm'st, fill'dst, rasp'dst, triumph'd, threat'n'dst, assist'st, tippl'st, manuscripts, fifteenth, black'n'dst, strength'n'dst, twelfths, singl'dst, twinkl'dst, pos- sess'st, whelm'dst, hundredth, thousandth, &c. SENTENCES In which the Combinations of the Consonant Elements are given for the Exercise of the scholar. They were overwMmed amidst the waves. They cultivated plants, shrubs, trees. < Though the Sunders roared, yet thou look'd'st from thy throne, and laugh'd'st at the storm. His texts were always selected with great care. Thou wrong' dst thyself and me. When Ajaz strives some rocA's \ast weight to throw. The line too labors and the words move slow. The sZeepy sluggard sits slumberbig sile'/itly. Thou didst hear their most earnest entreaties. He bought four yards and three eights. He came too late to attend the lecture. The prisoner was dragged to prison. Their limbs were much strengthened by crercise. The cricket "kept creeping across the crevices. Her rough and rugged rocAs that rear TAeir Aoary Aeads Aigk in the air. Bursting their bonds, they sprang upon the foe. Why wouldst thou stay while many a wAisperer whiles away his time. The strong Granger struggled straight forward through the stream. How hard he Aastes to have his Aorses Aarnessed. He that haXeth reproof shall die. Grievous words stir up anger. He strangled and gasped for brea^A. Thrilled a rich peal triumphantly around. Thou begg'dst for mercy. Forth rushed the wandering corners girt with flames. Thou troubV dst thy father's friends. XX11 INTRODUCTION. FAULTS AND DIFFICULTIES IN ARTICULATION. 1. A quite common fault or difficulty is tluit of ' su ppn or dropping the final consonants, or of not sounding Litem dis- tinctly. EXAMPLES. \ He regarded not the wort's opinion. \ He regarded not the world's opinion. { He was boun' han' an' foot an' kep' quiet. \ He was bound hand and foot and kcp/ quiet. < They thrus' their sickles into tlie halves'. I They thrus/ their sickles into the harvest. { Creepin' things an' beas' were foun' tliere. ( Creeping things and beasts were found there. i He ate them mornin', an' noon, an' evenin'. ) He ate them morning*, and noon, and evening. 2. Another fatdt is that of blending the end of one word with the beginning of the following one. EXAMPLES. < Gimme the pen an dink. \ Gire me the pen and ink. ^ They did not believe that he was an iceman. I They did not believe that he was a nice man. ( He died in great error. ( He died in great terror. { They both saw an arrow head. ( They both saw a narrow head. t He did believe that such an ocean existed. I He did believe that such a notion existed. < This worZ dis full of deception. I This world is full of deception. j Han dim his hat. ( Hand Aim his hat. $ He gave g\f sto men. I He gave gifts to men. ( He gavem to me. I He gave them to me. 3. Another difficulty in articulation often occurs from the immediate succession of similar sounds. EXAMPLES. The mast stood the severest storm well. Which lasts rill morning. ARTICULATION. XX111 The magistrates sought to arrest him. Han^ down the books. The hoy hates study. The great error remains. It was a large blacl cannon. It was given to the Indian who whooped. 4. Another fault or difficulty is that of dropping or indis- tinctly sounding the unaccented vowels. EXAMPLES. reg'lar for reg-u-lar. par-tic'lar for par-tic-u-lar. crock'ry " crock-er-y. gran'ry » gran-a-ry. av'rice <( av-a-rice. his'try (C his-tor-y. min'ral a min-er-al. mem'ry u mem-or-y. iv'ry « i-vor-y. comp'ny (( com-pa-ny. vet'ran <( vet-er-an. pop'lar (t pop-u-lar. gen'rous « gen-er-ous cer-t'n i( cer-tain. rob'ry - ftp* grew restless, and his smile was curled. His crime moved me. His cry moved me. The orightes^ still the fleetcs/. The swift dark whirlwind that \xproots the woods. The venerable man's wianuscri^d was miserably bad as to its literary meri/s. God is the author of all things visible and invisible. Stretched at length he shivered and shrunk. She trusts too much to servants, yet expects to hat>e her work well done. The colony formed a company where great harmony and fellowship existed. He was certainly informed of their particular request He wishes to have his ac^s stand on their own merit. By others' fau^s, wise men correct ^.eir own. He had an object to gain, still he slep£ the whole evening. Around him fall Dread powers, dominions, hos^s, and kingly tarones. INFLECTIONS. XXV CHAPTER II. INFLECTIONS. Inflections are slides, bends, or turns of the voice, either up- ward or downward, from the level of a sentence, in expressing the thoughts or emotions of the mind. Of these there are two. One is called the upward or rising inflection : the other, the down- ward or falling inflection. The rising Inflection is an upward slide or turn of the voice, which is marked or designated by the acute accent, thus, ( ' ). In this case, as the voice ends higher than it begins, the meaning of the sentence is generally suspended ; as, Is he rich' ? Will you go' ? The falling Inflection is a downward slide or turn of the voice, in which the voice ends lower than it begins, and is marked by the grave accent, thus, ( N ). As, He is poor\ He will go\ Sometimes both the rising and falling unite on or are given to the same syllable. This is called the Circumflex or "Wave. When the circumflex commences with the falling and ends with the rising inflection, it is called the rising circumflex, and is marked thus, ( u ). When it commences with the rising and ends with the falling inflection, it is called the falling circumflex, and is marked thus, ( a ). # When several syllables are uttered in succession with uniformity of sound, the voice having neither an upward or downward slide, but keeping comparatively level, it is called the Monotone, and is marked thus, (_- ). EXAMPLES In which the first member of the sentence has the rising, and the second member the falling inflection. Did he act honestly', or dishonestly* 1 Blessed are the poor in spirit". Blessed are the meek\ Will you ride', or walk* % Is he young', or is he old* % You must not say one', but two\ o XXVI INTRODUCTION. The voice should slide upward or downward, in reading these sentences, as represented in the following diagram : Did he act V^ or ^£? Is he <£f or Did he travel for health', or for pleasure* ? Did he say man', or men* 7 Did he say fast', or last* 1 Are you engaged', or at leisure* 1 Are they at home', or abroad* 1 In which the first member ends with the falling, and the sec- ond with the rising inflection. He said born*, not horn'. He said hate*, not late'. You should walk*, not ride'. He travelled in Europe*, not in Asia'. He wfll confess it*, not deny it'. CONTRASTED INFLECTIONS. Did he say flute', or lute* 1 He said flute*, not lute'. Did he say full', or pull* 1 He said full*, not pull'. Must I say plain', or pain* 1 You must say plain*, not pain'. Does he say able', or unable* 1 He says able*, not unable'. Did he run well,' or ill* 1 He did run well*, not ill'. RULES FOR THE USE OF INFLECTIONS. Rule I. Interrogative sentences which may be answered by yes or no, or which commence with a verb, usually take the rising inflection. EXAMPLES. Is the governor dead' 1 How many days was he absent' 1 INFLECTIONS. XXV11 Was there not all the father in that look 7 1 Is martial ardor dead' 1 Will you go to-day' 1 Can you repeat the seventh commandment' ? Would you say so, if the case were your own' 1 II. Interrogative exclamations, and words repeated as a kind of echo to the thought, require the rising inflection. EXAMPLES. He a great statesman' ! sacred liberty' ! A soldier' ! a thief, a plunderer', an assassin' ! the pest of the country' ! HI. When the sense is incomplete, as denoting a pause of sus- pension, the rising inflection should usually be used. EXAMPLES. He', born for the universe', narrowed his mind. Did sweeter sounds adorn my flowing tongue', Than ever man pronounced or angel sung 7 ; Had I all knowledge', human and divine', That thought can reach, or science can define'. Awake' ! arise' ! :■ F, from the orient to the drooping west' IV. The different members of a sentence expressing an antithe- sis, or contrast, require different inflections ; usually, the rising in- flection in the former member, and the falling inflection in the latter ; or, when the different members of a sentence are united by or ; or, in negative sentences. EXAMPLES. Do you seek wealth', or power*? Did you say statute', or statue' 1 Is he ill', or is he weir 1 Did he say call', or hair 1 There are also celestial' bodies, and bodies terrestrial'. He was virtuous', not vicious'. I came to bury' Cesar, not to praise' him. He is brave', not generous'. Study not for amusement', but for improvement'. He did not act wisely', but unwisely'. Shall I come to you with a rod', or in love' 1 XXV111 INTRODUCTION. V. Tender emotion generally inclines the \oiee to the rising in- flection. EXAMPLES. My mother' ! when 1 Learned that thou wast <\< 0' my son Absalom', my son', my son Absalom' ! Jesus saith unto her, Man He bleeds' ! he falls' ! his death-bed is the Held' ! Poor man' ! how I pity' him. VI. The indirect question, or that which is not answered by yes or no, and its answer, should have the falling inflection. i.x.wni Who say the people that I am"? John the Baptist' ; but some say, Elias'. Where is Thomas' ? At schooT. How many dollars make an eagle' 1 Ten\ Where is Russia'? In the north ofEorop VII. The language of authority, of surprise, of dMro-s, or of denunciation and reprehension, commonly require the falling in- flection. \M1'LES. Up\ comrades ! up' ! Bid' him drive back' his car'. Come one', come all'. 0, horrible' ! 0, horrible' ! most' horrible ! Angels' ! and ministers of grace', defend us. Jesus', Master' ! have mercy on us'. Wo unto you, Pharisees' ! hypocrites' ! VIII. In a commencing series or number of particulars, the last member must have the rising inflection, and all the others, the falling inflection. EXAMPLES. To advise the ignorant', relieve the needy', comfort the afflicted', are duties that fall in our way. His success', his fame', his life', were all at stake. Discomposed thoughts', agitated passions', and a ruffled temper', poison every pleasure of life. INFLECTIONS. XXIX IX. In a concluding series the last member but one must have the rising inflection, and all the others, the falling inflection. EXAMPLES. Wine', beauty', music", pomp', are poor expedients to heave off the load of an hour from the heir of eternity\ They passed o'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp ; Rocks', caves", lakes', fens', hogs', dens', and shades of death\ Time, the greatest of tyrants, taxes our health', our limbs', our facul- ties', our strength', and our features\ CIRCUMFLEX. X. The circumflex is chiefly used to express irony, hypothesis, sarcasm, or contrast. EXAMPLES. Hear him, my lord : he is wondrous condescending. I have been so very hot, that I am sure I have caught cold 1 Man never is, but always to be, blest. They follow an adventurer whom they fear; we serve a monarch whom we love. MONOTONE. XI. The monotone is used chiefly to express grand, sublime, solemn, or grave emotions, when no word in a sentence has either the rising or falling inflection. EXAMPLES. And I saw a great white throne and Him that sat on it. Sound on, thou dark unslumberlng sea ! As when the sun, new-risen, looks through the horizontal misty air. God walketh on the ocean. Brilliantly The glassy waters mirror back his smiles. When the monotone is carefully and properly used, it renders the passage peculiarly expressive, and gives great dignity to deliv- ery. All the preceding Rules, however, should be carefully studied by the scholar. XXX INTRODUCTION. CHAPTER III. MODULATION. The modulation of the voice is the proper management of ite variations or tones in conversation, speaking, and reading, which the feelings and emotions of the subject naturally inspire, so as to produce pleasure and melody to the ear. To avoid monotony and give variety as well as relief to the ear, changes of tone, and changes of delivery are necessary. The voice is modulated in three ways. It is varied in Pitch, from high to low tones. It is varied in Quantity or Loudness of sound. It is varied in Quality or Kind of sound. PITCH OF THE VOICE. In speaking or reading, every person assumes a certain pitch, either high or low. Great care should be taken that this be not too high or too low, so as either to confound or weary the hearer. It may be well, however, to practise the exercise of uttering sen- tences in the several variations of high and low, until the scholar has acquired skill in their management. There are three Pitches of the voice ; the low, the middle, and the high. The low is used in expressing emotions of reverence, sublimity, or awe. The mid- dle is usually used in common conversation. The high in calling to a person at a distance. EXAMPLES. Whom are we to charge as the deceiver of the state 1 A thousand hearts are great within my bosom : Advance our standards, set upon our foes. What the weak head, with strongest bias rules, Is pride, the never failing vice of fools. Give me another horse, bind up my wounds ; soft ; I did but dream. If thou shalt fall, I have nor love, nor hope, In this wide world. My son, remember me ! Try not the Pass ! the old man said, Dark lowers the tempest overhead ! The preceding sentences contain all the varieties necessary for MODULATION. XXXI a full exercise of the loio , middle, and high pitches of tones of voice, in their various changes. These variations of the voice should be, in every respect, such as are naturally suggested by sentiment and emotion ; for, every emotion requires its own par- ticular pitch of voice to express it. This must be entirely deter- mined by good judgment and taste, based on circumstances and sentiment. No definite rules can be given to meet every case. The advantages of a proper variation of voice are valuable as well to the speaker as to the hearer ; for, if the organs of voice become wearied by long exercise on one pitch, they will at once be re- lieved by changing to a different degree of elevation. The best means of avoiding extremes, in all cases, is thoroughly to learn the distinction between force and elevation ; and, to acquire the power of swelling the voice on a low tone. QUANTITY. Quantity has regard to or includes fulness of tone, loudness, and time or duration of sound. Quantity is mostly limited to the vowel sounds, the consonant sounds being very slightly affected by it. In quantity, the degrees of variation are very numerous, vary- ing from a soft whisper to a vehement shout. As in the pitch of the voice, the degree of quantity used should depend on the na- ture and extent of the emotion to be expressed ; the hearer being thereby influenced in his amount of feeling by that entertained or felt by the speaker or reader. It requires very little skill in sounds, to perceive that a in fat, is shorter than a in fate : in the former case, the organs pass quickly over the vowel to the consonant ; in the latter, there is more continuance on the vowel. So is it in the utterance of a sentence. EXAMPLES. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Soil on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll. Farewell, happy fields, Where joy for ever dwells. One fault he has : I know but only one. Strike — for the sires who left you free ! I fear not death, and shall I then fear thee "? XXX11 INTRODUCTION. QUALITY. Quality has regard to the kind of sound used or expr- The voice is highly susceptible of improvement in quality, as well as in other respects. Some voices are naturally more melodious than others in quality, though all may be greatly improved by proper discipline and culture. To render harsh, nasal, guttural, or uncouth tones of the voice smooth and musical, the following course should be practised. Let the pupil utter, again and again, sentences like the following; commencing their utterance with a whisper or gentle effusion of the breath, and gradually increase the tone in fulness and force up to the low, and then to the middle pitch; and, in some cases, up to the high pitch. AMI'LES. Placid and grateful to his rest he sank. So gently flows the parting breath, "Win i) good mi be. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time. But in his motion, like an angel sings. She was the rainbow to thy sight. CHAPTER IV. ACCENT. Accent is a particular or forcible stress of the voice which is laid on one syllable of a word to distinguish it from other syllables in the same word in comparison, or to designate their comparative importance, and to promote ease, harmony, and distinctness of ar- ticulation. It is also employed to distinguish different parts of speech having the same form, and to express opposition of thought. Every word of more syllables than one, has one of them accented. Accent is either 'primary or secondary. Primary accent is in- dispensable to all words of more than one syllable. Secondary accent is a less forcible stress of the voice than the primary, which ACCENT. XXXlll is used only in words of three or more syllables. The primary ac- cent is marked thus, ( ' ) after the syllable ; as, in'fant, com-mand'- ment. The secondary is marked thus, ( N ) before the syllable ; as, indus'tri v ous. In words of several syllables, the unaccented syllables are often too slightly pronounced or almost entirely suppressed. To avoid or correct these errors, it will be highly useful to require the scholar to pronounce, as exercises, long words like the following, noting or sounding, with great precision, each syllable. EXAMPLES. In-dus'tri v ous-ly, 'ep-i-dem'ic. gra-tu'i'tous, con-tem'plate, ar-tifi v cer, % in-di-visTble, 'phil-o-sophTcal-ly, "in-di'vis-i-bil'i'ty, 'im-ma'te-ri-al'i'ty, N ag-ri-cul'tu'rist, x ex-com v mu-ni-ca'tion, x an-ti v rev-o-lu'tion v a-ry, un-char'- Tta-ble'ness. The use or placing of the accent is generally determined by custom. I. The accented syllables should be uttered with a louder tone than the other syllables. EXAMPLES. He trav'elled ma'nj thou'sand miles. He will make him an offer. They will compel' him to do it. It is no tri'fimg mat'ter. Bles'sed are the peace' makers. II. In words which are used as different parts of speech, the ac- cent is sometimes changed to note this distinction. ac'cent, to accent', con'cert, to concert', fre'quent, to frequent' prod'uce, to produce', prot'est, to protest'. EXAMPLES. refuse, to refuse', pre'fix, to prefix', sur'vey, to survey', attribute, to attrib'ute. in' valid, invalid. III. The accent is sometimes changed or transposed from its customary place to render any particular syllable emphatic, by con- trast or opposition of thought. XXXIV INTRODUCTION. EXAMPLES. He must increase, but I must ^crease. It is sown in corruption : it is raised in z/icorruption. What fellowship hath righteousness with w/i righteousness? His ability or inability to perform the act, materially varies the case. There is a very great difference between giving and /Wgiving; between religion and irreligion. CHAPTER V. EMPHASIS. Emphasis is a peculiar stress of voice which is laid on a certain word or words in a sentence or phrase ; or it consists in a certain manner of uttering a word or phrase, to give it force and energy, by which its due importance and meaning are best expressed. The proper use of emphasis must, in all cases, be governed by feeling and emotion. The deyree of emphasis should always de- pend on its importance in expressing the meaning and sense. I. As a general rule, when words are contrasted with, distin- guished from, or opposed to, other words either expressed or un- derstood, they should be emphatical. To have a scholar read with correct emphasis, however, he should speak naturally, and with a lively inta-est in what he utters. EXAMPLES. Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven. Seek, and ye shall find. I could honor thy courage ; but I must detest and punish thy crimes. It is much better to be injured than to injure. A child might understand it. "Will you ride to town to-day ? Will you ride to town to-day ? Will you ride to town to-day ? Will you ride to town to-day ? A friendly eye would never see such faults. EMPHASIS. XXXV Judge not, that ye be not judged. We can do nothing against the truth, but for the truth. He raised a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down. II. Sometimes emphasis and inflection are combined. EXAMPLES. If we have no regard for our ovm x character, we ought to regard the character of others'. To err is human' ; to forgive, divine". Man's caution" often into danger' guides. For whatsoever a man soioeth' , that shall he also reap". HI. Sometimes, several successive words are emphasized. In such cases, the emphasis increases on each assertion or repetition, each increasing in importance, the last being greater and more intense than the first. This is to be used when great or intense feeling is to be expressed. EXAMPLES. Shall we try argument 7 '? Sir-, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Stay, speak ; speak, I charge thee, SPEAK ! Independence now, and independence FOR EVER ! Wo unto you, Scribes, Pharisees, HYPOCRITES ! The war is inevitable; and let it come! I repeat it, sir, LET IT COME ! Give me liberty, or GIVE ME DEATH ! Wo, wo, WO, to the inhabitants of the earth ! POETIC PAUSES OR MANNER OF READING VERSE. [The ordinary use and application of the Pauses or Stops have been so thoroughly explained in the Introduction to the Juvenile Reader, No. Ill, and in the Sequel, or Fourth Reader, that it is not considered ne- cessary to enlarge upon those points in this work. The use and applica- tion of pauses in reading Poetry only will be treated of here.] In reading Poetry or Verse there is a peculiar difficulty in making the pauses justly. The difficulty arises from the melody of verse, which dictates to the ear pauses or rests of its own : and to adjust and compound these properly with the pauses of sense, XXXVI INTRODUCTION. so as neither to hurt the ear, nor offend the understanding, Is so very nice a matter that few persons read poetry well. There are generally two poetic pauses which belong to the mel ody of verse: the Caesural Pause at or near the middle of every line; and the .Final Pause which occurs at the end of the line 01 lines. These pauses frequently occur at the same place with the ordinary pauses, though they are independent of them. Great care, in the use of the caesura, should be < in reading verse, or very much of the harmony will 1"- lost. It should never be so placed as to injure the sense;. When its use naturally coin- cides with the pause required by the sense of the passage, it is esteemed a great beauty. This caesura, although usually placed near the middle, may, in some cases, be placed at other intervals. | There is, also, sometimes an additional pause employed. This occurs about midway between the beginning and middle, or the middle and end of the line. This is called the Demi-caesura. Though an observance of these pauses is highly necessary, as they constitute the chief melody of poetry ; yet, when they are made too prominent, or are too studiously observed, they lead to a mo- notonous, measured, or sing-song style, which can not be too care- folly avoided. The caesura is marked thus ( || ) ; and, the demi-caesura thus ( | ), in the examples here given. The caesura is marked in each line ; but the demi-caesura is marked in a portion only. EXAMPLES. Warms in the sun || refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars || and blossoms in the trees. Our bugles | sang truce || for the night-cloud | had lowered, And the sentinel stars || set their watch | in the sky. In slumbers | of midnight || the sailor | boy lay, His hammock | swung loose || at the sport of the wind. We applaud virtue || even in enemies. Here rest | the great and good; || here they repose. A rock | in the wilderness |j welcomed our sires. How dear | to this heart || are the scenes | of my childhood. Nature | to all things || fixed | the limits fit, And wisely | curbed || proud man's | pretending art. EMPHASIS. XXXV11 RHETORICAL PAUSES. Often where no pause is allowed by the grammatical construc- tion of the passage or sentence, the voice must rest in speaking or reading ; especially is this the case, when the speaker or reader wishes particularly to fix the attention on a single word or expres- sion, and also, to impress it deeply on the mind. The Rhetorical Pause is, most generally, as much required by the sense as the Grammatical Pause. There can not, however, be any definite rule given as to the length of the rhetorical pause. The speaker or reader must determine that himself by exerci- sing his own taste and judgment. The rhetorical pause may be marked thus, ( |||| ). EXAMPLES. Prosperity |||| gains friends, adversity |j|| tries them. Time |j|| once passed |||| never returns. Talents |||| without application |||[ are no security for progress in learning. The worst of slaves, are they |||| whom passion ||j| rules. The traveller began his journey |||| in the highest spirits |||| and with the most delightful anticipations. Life mi is short, and art |||| is long. Honor |||| and shame |||| from no condition rise. Trials |j|j in this state of being ||j| are the lot of man. Sometimes a half rhetorical pause is used with great advantage. In using this, also, great care as well as taste and judgment should be exercised. The half rhetorical pause is marked thus, ( ||| ). EXAMPLES. Silver |]j and gold |j|| have I none. Better ||| is a dinner of herbs |||| where love ||| is, than a stalled ox |||| and hatred ||j therewith. Our bugles ||| sang truce |||| for the night-cloud ||| had lowered, And the sentinels 1 1 1 1 set their watch 1 1 1 in the sky. Industry [||[ is the guardian ||| of innocence. XXXV111 INTRODUCTION. CHAPTER VI. GESTURES. In beginning to speak in public, almost every person feels the natural and usual embarrassment which results from his new posi- tion. The strangeness or novelty of his situation often entirely de- stroys his self-possession ; and, in consequence of the loss t)f that, he almost invariably becomes awkward, his arms and hands hang clumsily, and really seem to be quite superfluous or useless mem- bers of the body. This embarrassment may sometimes be over- come by a powerful exercise of the attention upon the matter of which he is speaking ; but, it is more often overcome gradually, as the speaker becomes familiar with his position and subject. Then he will quite insensibly take the proper attitude, naturally and easily. Gestures are the various motions, attitudes, or movements of the body and limbs of the speaker, pertaining to his manner of delivery. These should always be perfectly natural, and in ac- cordance with the several sentiments and passions which the speaker intends or wishes to express. A speaker should endeavor always to feel what he speaks ; for, the perfection of speaking and reading is to utter or pronounce the words as if the sentiments were those of the speaker or reader, and as naturally as in com- mon or ordinary conversation. As the faults in ordinary gestures are very numerous, it will not be expected, either is it intended to give a minute system of rules and directions on the subject in this work ; but merely to give some general hints, by means of which the pupil, aided, if practi- cable, by the teacher, may form rules, or pursue a discipline for himself. A large volume might be written on the subject of ges- tures alone ; but, as all scholars in elocution can learn more read- ily and quickly as well as thoroughly by a few examples and in- structions from the living model, it is deemed quite unnecessary to swell this volume with a detail of numerous laws and rules. As an aid to the more proper understanding of this subject, GESTURES. XXXIX several figures have been introduced, designed to give the scholar a general idea of appropriate gestures, and also to enable him to exercise his own judgment and taste, in the use of such other ges- tures as will serve to illustrate and enforce the various sentiments and thoughts which he may wish to utter. The use of such gestures as will give a graceful and impressive action is highly desirable, as it is one of the very highest accom- plishments of the orator ; and, its importance gives it a just claim to the particular attention of all teachers of Elocution. Representations of many of the Emotions, Passions, and Feelings of the Human Mind. In Devotion or Adoration, the body is quite erect ; the head thrown somewhat back ; the hands clasped and placed on the breast ; the eyes turned upward, sometimes closed, however ; one foot placed a little in advance of the other. The position should be steady, unattended with gestures either of the hands or body. In cases, also, in which the person is in a kneeling posture, the body, head, and hands should be in the same position as when the person is in a standing posture. The voice mild and gentle. In Supplication or Entreating, the head and shoulders are thrown quite back ; the hands laid one over the other and placed on the breast; the eyes turned upward, sometimes closed, however ; the feet to be placed near each other. During the act of supplication there should be no gestures of the hands or body, except that, occasionally, when the sup- pliant is in great earnestness, the hands thus placed may be somewhat raised, particularly when supplication is made to another human being. The voice mild, but persuasive. SUPPLICATION. xl INTRODUCTION. ADMIRATION. NARRATION. In Admiration or Regard, the body is erect; both arms extended ; the hands thrown open; the feet placed side by side; the eyes fixed, with much intense- ness,on the object or objects, sometimes raised, the whole mind and attention riveted to the Bubject, There should be no other gestures than that some- times when the admiration is very in- tense, the hands may be somewhat raised. The voice should be soft and flattering. In Joy or Mirth, the arms are ex- tended; the right hand and arm somewhat elevated ; the left arm and hand elevated to a right angle with the body; the hands both thrown open, sometimes waved ; the body thrown somewhat back, inclining to the left side. When to excess so as to produce laughter or mirth, the whole body is shaken ; the mouth is opened ; |== the nose is crisped ; the aperture of the eyes is lessened. The voice some- what elevated and quite animated. In Narration or Description, the body is erect ; the left arm extended and thrown out a little from the body, either with or without any thing in the hand; the right arm a little bent, the hand thrown open, and a little distance from the body. In cases of very considerable excitement, the right arm may be somewhat raised ; the feet placed a little apart, and somewhat thrown out. The head should not be much moved, except in cases of great earnestness. The voice should be somewhat elevated, but firm and steady, with considerable uniformity of expression. GESTURES. Xli In Firmness or Determination, the arms are folded together ; the body erect and firm ; the head a little inclined to one side ; the eyes fixed and steady in their purpose ; the lips closed and somewhat con- tracted ; under great excitement, the body and head may be a little inclined forward and backward ; and, sometimes the hands clasped. The voice should be considerably elevated, not very loud, however. In Resolution or great Earnestness the gestures are a little changed by a small effort with the hands clasped and a little extended. In Argument or Debate, the body and head are erect ; the body a little inclined either to the right or left, more generally to the left ; the eyes fixed on some object ; the right arm from the elbow a little extended from the body, and gene- rally with the fore finger projecting; the left arm a little bent, the hand open, and placed near the body ; the feet placed near each other. In great earnestness there is oftentimes some mo- tion upward and extension of the right arm, or both. The voice should be mild and persuasive, though firm and generally uniform, except un- der much excitement, when it should be raised. In Authority or Commanding, &c, the body is erect ; the head is kept steady and firm ; the right arm is projected or extended forward ; the hand is thrown open ; the left arm falls quietly by the side ; the counte- nance is open ; the eyebrows are drawn down a little, giving the person an air of gravity. In commanding, a peremptory tone of voice and a severe look are required. Generally a person in authority speaks with a firm but somewhat elevated tone of voice. FIRMNESS. ARGUMENT. AUTHORITY. xlii INTRODUCTION. AMAZEMENT. In Amazement, Wonder, or Astonishment, the body is erect, sometimes thrown a little back- ward ; the muscular system rigid and firm ; the arms raised ; the hands are open outward, the arms drawn upward, the hands projected ; the countenance open ; the eyes quite opened, gla- ring, and sometimes fixed ; one foot placed a lit- tle before the other. The voice is generally quicker than usual, and quite unnatural. Some- times the person is quite unable to speak when the wonder or astonishment is very great. In Disappointment, the body is erect ; the head is also erect and fixed; the hands and arms fall suddenly by the side; the countenance appears sad and melancholy ; the eyes are downcast and heavy ; the whole body and limbs quite motionless. The voice, if the person speaks at all, is quite sup- pressed and faltering, the words few, and often in- terrupted by sighs. DISAPPOINTMENT. In Aversion or Dislike, the body somewhat retreats ; the head is avert- ed ; the arms are projected out against the object, the hands open or spread out to keep it off; the feet retire ; the eyes are withdrawn ; the countenance presents a frown upon it. The voice is quite changed, and the words spoken in a suppressed tone. GESTURES. xliii In Despondency, Despair, or Melancholy, there is a relaxation of the nerves, languor without motion ; the head hanging at the " side next the heart ;" the eyes generally fixed on the ground ; the hands hanging down without effort, and joined loosely together ; the countenance gloomy, and motionless ; the lower jaw falls ; the words few, and interrupted by sighs. The tone of voice very much suppressed and faltering. In Terror, Fear, or Horror, the body and one foot are drawn back ; the whole body starts ; the elbows are drawn back parallel to the sides ; the hands are thrown open and forward to guard the person ; the coun- tenance has an air of wildness ; the eyebrows are drawn down ; the face generally be- comes pale ; the heart beats violently ; the breath is quick, the voice weak and trem- bling. Sometimes terror or fear produces shrieks and fainting. Horror generally riv- ets the eyes of the person on its object. In Distress, Grief, or Anguish, the body and head are thrown back ; the palm of the hand is placed upon the forehead ; the other hand is thrown out or backward from the body ; the eyes generally inflamed or tearful. In grief or anguish, the eyes, and sometimes in distress also, the person weeps, and the eyes are lifted up to heaven. The voice is somewhat suppressed, and very frequently interrupted by sighs. xliv INTRODUCTION. ANGER. In Anger, the whole body is generally agitated ; the right hand is thrown out with a olinohed fist or hand ; the eyes staring, rolling, sparkling; the eyebrows drawn over them, the forehead wrinkled, the nostrils stretched, every vein Bwelled, every muscle strained : when anger is violent, the month is opened, showing the teeth in a gnashing pos- ture ; and Bometimea stamping of the feet; and the voice is rapid and interrupted. Pride assumes a lofty look, sometimes the body thrown back; the eyes open; the mouth pouting; the words slow and stiff, with an air of impor- tance ; and, sometimes the arms akimbo. Courage opens the countenance, and gives tin-, whole form an erect and graceful air. The voice is firm, and the accent strong and articulate. Shame turns away the face from the beholders ; coven it with blushes ; caste down the head and eyes ; draws down tin brows; makes the tongue to falter, or strikes the person dumb. Remorse casts down the countenance, and clouds it with anx- iety. Sometimes the teeth gnash, and the right hand beats the breast. As many persons who make the gestures tolerably well, place their hands and feet in very awkward and improper positions, a few figures of each are here inserted. PAETICULAE FAULTS IN GESTURES. xlv Many other figures, to represent the passions, &c, might be in- serted ; but, it is believed that a sufficient quantity has been in- serted to answer the purpose intended, as stated at the commence- ment of this chapter. PARTICULAR FAULTS IN GESTURES. As there are a great many faults in the use of gestures, commit- ted by almost all public speakers, it will be well, no doubt, to point out or hint at some of the most prominent and objectionable ones, for the consideration both of teacher and pupil. 1st. Not standing erect and firm, and in such a posture as to ex- pand the chest and give full play to the organs of respiration and utterance. This fault should be very carefully guarded against. 2d. Sustaining the weight of the lody equally on oothfeet. This course renders change exceedingly inconvenient, as will be found on trial ; and, it is otherwise very objectionable, particularly as the atti- tude is such that it can not be shifted with ease, and without shuffling and hitching the limbs. The attitude most favorable is that in •which the weight of the body is thrown upon one limb, the other being left free to be advanced or thrown back, as fatigue or correct action in delivery may require. 3d. The speaker not looking the audience in the face. The eyes should be constantly directed to the audience, but not on any indi- vidual so as to make him a special object of address. Sometimes this fault leads the eyes of the speaker entirely away from the audi- ence; but, whenever the audience is spoken to, the eyes of the speaker should meet theirs. 4th. Separating the feet too far from each other, thus destroying the simplicity of the standing posture adapted to oratory, and giving to the person a swaggering air ; or, where the feet are on a line with each other, a very awkward and ungainly appearance. 5th. Changing the position too frequently , which always indicates xlvi INTRODUCTION. uneasiness and anxiety. This should be rigidly avoided, as from sympathy, the audience will also become uneasy and anxious; and, of course, inattentive. 6th. Showing an excessive or unnatural action of the countenance, or an excess or extravagance of manner generally, especially an ex- pression of assumed excitement. This is quite distinguishable and remote from the force, propriety, and effect of natural expression, which, when characterized by strength and loveliness, command-, alike the judgment and the heart. 7th. Turning the head too rapidly, or in a jerking manner. Its movements on its axis should be moderate or slow, never rapid or sudden. 8th. Not keeping the limb straight on which the body is sustained and not gently bending the free one. The body is, by this fault, thrown out of the erect position, and presents the appearance of a falling building. The supporting limb should be straight, hut not rigid, and the knee of the other limb bent in an easy, natural man- ner. These directions are positively necessary to a graceful and erect position. 9th. Keeping the same position for too long oj period. The feet should always change their position at marked transitions of thought; should advance in the more animated, and retire in the calmer parts of a discourse. They should not be moved at all with- out some reference to the sentiment and character of the discourse. These changes should never be carried so far, however, as to imply restlessness in the speaker. 10th. Separating the fingers from each other. The approximation of the fingers in the manner described in the natural position of the hand, is essential to force and expression in its general movements. Sometimes in its elevated positions and when held vertically, the fin- gers are properly separated, particularly in the expression of strong emotion; never, however, when the hand is employed to mark em- phasis, in a downward direction, and seldom in ordinary public speaking. 11th. Following the hand with the eye, as if for the purpose of adjusting the gesture. This is particularly objectionable, and should always be avoided. 12th. Too freely using the left hand. The right hand should be principally employed in public speaking. The left may be used, when addressing persons on the left side : also, for the purpose of pointing out objects in that direction ; occasionally for variety; and in the expression of strong emotion, in order to support the right hand. In public speaking, however, the action of the right should maintain a great predominance. These faults and several others which might be stated are of not unfrequent occurrence, and are connected more or less with a certain stiffness of appearance, which conveys to the audience the notion or idea of distress on the part of the speaker, and should be faithfully guarded against by every person who wishes to render himself an agreeable and impressive public speaker. COBB'S SPEAKER LESSON I. ENLIGHTENED PHILANTHROPY. [Extract from an Address delivered at Raleigh on the occasion of laying the corner-stone of the North Carolina Institution of the Deaf and Dumb, April 14, 1848, by H. P. Peet, President of the New York Institution for the Instruction of the Deaf and Dumb.] 1. The cause of enlightened philanthropy has made such rapid progress during the last half century, that the generous and sanguine, almost forgetting that injustice and violence, still, at times, desolate the earth, might well dream of the approach of the millennium. For what can more strongly mark the moral condition of that happy period, than to see the tree of knowledge, bearing the fruit of good, unmixed with evil? To see the researches of science devoted to the discovery of means for the relief of affliction ? 2. To lift the degraded, to comfort the afflicted, to enlighten the ignorant, to supply eyes to the blind, ears to the deaf, and a tongue to the dumb, are tasks worthy of the highest ambition : tasks, which those, who would humbly follow in the footsteps of the Redeemer, and do what is given them to do in preparing the way for his second coming, are encouraged to undertake by many precious promises. 3. ISTo one can read the rapt visions of the prophet, figuring the blessedness that is to overspread the earth under the Gospel dispensation, without being struck by the prominence given to the relief of the blind, and of the deaf and dumb. We can not 48 COBB'S SPEAKER. doubt that these prophecies look beyond the literal fulfilment, in comparatively few cases, during the life-time of the Savior, and are now receiving a more general, tli- aiuh leas literal accomplish- ment, in the success and raj. id increase of institutions of benev- olence. 4. Of all the children of affliction, there are none whose lot appeals more strongly t" <>ur feelings of humanity, than thai of the uninstructed deaf and dumb. Though bone of our hone, and flesh of our flesh, eating at our tables, Bitting at our firesides, and even kneeling at our family altars : bearing the image of the Creator, gifted with faculties for intellectual and moral excel- lence, and possessing souls that must live,- think, and feel for ever, they have been, for almost counties generations, shut out of the pale of social and religious privileg 5. We may, without exaggeration, pronounce them less fortu- than the lower animals, for tiny had few or no enjoyments beyond those common to the latter, and tin- faculties that lay dor- mant within them, served but to show them glimpses of the higher enjoyments of th<- intellectual and spiritual world, beaming from the eyes of their more fortunate kin- lied, and awakening in themselves desires doomed t<> real ever unsatisfied. Such was the life of the deaf mute, passed in mental and moral darkness, and deeper and more hopeless darkness rested on its closing hour. 6. But the light has dawned at last. The prophecy that the deaf shall hear the word* has been in part fulfilled, and the good tidings of great joy to all people, are, in our day, proclaimed to those, who, of all men most needing the promises and consolations of the Gospel, had been, for centuries upon centuries, alone of all men, cut off" from those promises and consolations. Surely if there is any act which we may reverently suppose to be accepta- ble to the God of Love, it is the act of taking by the hand our poor, ignorant, and afflicted deaf and dumb brother, and leading him to the blessed fountains of knowledge ; of the knowledge that bright- ens the otherwise cheerless scenes of life ; and of that higher knowledge that takes the sting from death. * Isaiah xxix. 18. COBB'S SPEAKER. 49 LESSON II. INSTRUCTION BY LECTURES. B. F. BUTLER. 1. The communication of instruction by oral discourses or lec- tures, well accords with the social nature of man, and with the other parts of his intellectual and moral constitution. As might therefore be expected, it is coeval with the history of civilization itself. Indeed, until the invention of the art of printing, it was the only method by which knowledge could be diffused among the mass of the community. 2. It was through this medium, that the inspired lawgiver of the Hebrews made known to his rude and intractable countrymen, the principles of religion, the rules of moral duty, and the institu- tions and requirements of civil and ecclesiastical polity. The solemn instructions, the stern reproofs, and the impassioned appeals of the teachers and prophets who succeeded him, were, for the most part, communicated, in the first instance, in this way. 3. It was by this method, also, that the Grecian philosophers, within the walls of their academies, or in the surrounding groves, taught those who frequented their respective schools. Socrates, the wisest and most useful of their number, carried the pratice still farther. He did not confine himself to a school or to select hear- ers : he lectured and debated in all places, and on all occasions ; to promiscuous crowds of the common people, as well as to graver assemblies of the higher classes. He was thus, (says Cicero,) the first who called down Philosophy from heaven ; gave her a residence 171 cities ; introduced her to the fireside ; and made her familiar with the affairs and duties of ordinary life. 4. A teacher more illustrious than Socrates, one who really de- served the lofty panegyric of the Roman orator ; the teacher who spake as never man spake, adopted the like method of imparting knowledge on the most sacred and momentous of subjects. His early followers, the men chosen to confound the wisdom, to confute the philosophy, and to overthrow the might of this world, pursued, substantially, the same course. 3 50 COBB'S SPEAKER. 5. Although the art of printing has furnished new and marvel- lous facilities for instructing and influencing mankind, it has not superseded the popular lecture. No community exists in which the art of reading, at least of reading with fluency, and with quick apprehension of the matter read, is universal ; and of those who possess this talent, many will not employ it to advantage. Others, with the ability and the inclination to read, have few or no books of a useful nature ; or they may not find leisure to read such books as tiny possess. Then, too, the instruction which comes to us from the lips of the living teacher, appeals more directly to the senses, awakens a greater interest, and makes a more lasting impression, than the mere perusal of the same won Is. 6. When accompanied by the higher graces of eloquence and oratory, it becomes exceedingly attractive ; the imagination is quickened and delighted ; the taste is gratified ; and the mind enjoys one of the richest pleasures of which it is susceptible. With only a moderate share of these advantages, it is yet one of the most agreeable and effective modes of imparting knowledge, of bringing it home " to the business and the bosoms" of individuals, and of diffusing it among the masses. Especially is this the case where the object of the instructer is to influence the affections as well as the understanding, and where urgent and pathetic appeals may properly compose a large part of the discourse. 7. The most impressive illustration of these principles is to be found in the history of the Christian ministry ; and it may, with- out irreverence, be presumed, that reference was had to them in its establishment. For eighteen centuries it has shed over a be- nighted world the rays of heavenly truth ; and this ministry of good it is destined to perform, with still increasing radiance, until at length " the Light himself" in unclouded and eternal day, " shall shine revealed" to the whole family of man. 8. In modern times, and by a natural extension of its capabil- ities, popular addresses have been employed as a means of reaching the ear, and influencing the mind of the community on questions of a social and public nature, not within the ordinary cognizance of the pulpit. In Great Britain, and some other parts of Europe, as COBB'S SPEAKEK. 51 well as in our own country, this mode of explaining, inculcating, and defending the views of the speaker upon such questions, has been long and frequently resorted to with much effect. In times of great political excitement, when the attention is easily roused, and the public mind is eager for discussion, its influence is great. It has also been used with great success in aid of the various en- terprises for meliorating the condition of our species, which have conferred on this age so much and such substantial glory. 9. Not to specify other instances, the temperance reform, which, despite of some mistakes and imprudences, may justly be ranked among the greatest results of modern philanthropy, was mainly accomplished by it. If many wild and impracticable theories have, in this way, been put before the public ; and, if the popular mind has often been agitated and sometimes deluded by them, it must yet be admitted, that much of the progress which has been made in political knowledge and in social improvement, within the last half century, is to be ascribed to this instrumentality. 1 0. There is yet another use of the popular lecture, which demands from us, on the present occasion, a more particular consideration. It has, of late, been much employed in our cities and large villages, for the discussion of literary and scientific subjects, and for the dif- fusion of knowledge on such topics ; and this is a sufficient proof of its general adaptation to this end. But to exhibit its true value in this respect, and to point out the proper mode of employing it to advantage, it will be necessary to speak advisedly and with proper discrimination. In the first place, it should be distinctly understood, that it is impossible to gain thorough knowledge, in any particular department of literature or science, by merely listening to popular lectures. 11. The form which must be given to such discourses, in order to secure the attention of a promiscuous assembly, is inconsistent with the severity and minuteness which are often necessary to the proper treatment of the subject ; and the rapidity with which the speaker passes from one proposition to another, prevents the hearer from giving that attention to each, which may, perhaps, be need- ful to a clear understanding of the address. In some instances, 52 COBB'S SPEAKER. also, the habit of attending upon such lecture-, especially if fre- quent and on many different subjects, may beget a passion for this species of intellectual entertainment, which, so far from instructing, may only dissipate the mind, and prove, in the end, a hindcrancc rather than a help to full and accurate information. LESSON III. EDUCATIONAL WANTS OF THE WEST. [Extract from a Sermon preached in Brooklyn, N. Y., Nov. 12, 1848, by Rev. Hexey Ward Beecher.] 1. To say that ten millions of people were suddenly cast into a capacious valley ; to say that never before was there so vast a population suddenly rooted on a soil on which they were not born ; to say that the West is a vast repository ; a museum of men ; a world in epitome, would give you no idea of what is actually true. 2. To say that this million-multitude, urging their impetuous course to the Westward from revolutionary Europe, hastening from the uprising deluge, have come with ideas as diverse as features ; with customs not less foreign than their costumes; the canny Scotch ; the mercurial Irish ; the plodding English ; the phleg- matic German ; the effervescent French ; the inveterate and un- changeable ever-wandering Jew; the New Englander and the Southerner; all this is to give only an outside picture to the imagination. 3. We glance lightly across the motley multitude ; their rude abundance, their hard hospitality, their trafficking, their husbandry, their shades of agreement, or their strange and contrasting dissimi- larities ; and, although the mind finds perpetual amusement in such view, we ponder deeper questions, we ruminate upon deeper interests. 4. Those foreigners are not now foreign ; they are denizens. COBB'S SPEAKER. 53 "Those odd and outlandish ways are causes, nevertheless. This vast and various population is carrying a vast and various mind ; they think, and make thought ; they feel, and produce feeling ; they will, and execute their volitions. They do not stand each in his place, like the trees of a girdled forest ; like long, bare, gray trunks in a clearing, neither intertwined by root nor locked by branch ; but they are living powers, roused by great causes to in- tense activity ; they are moulding each other, and there is to be a RESULT. 5. The statesman, forecasting, asks what shall be this result, and all its economic bearings. The philanthropic citizen earnestly wishes to know whether so mighty a movement as this is to enrich or destroy us. Chiefly the Christian, long praying, " Thy kingdom come," and proudly rejoicing to believe our land destined to be the apostle of nations, turns hither his anxious heart to know what the end of all these things shall be. It is impossible to tell what. We may nearly discriminate whether it shall be glorious or wretched ; but the degrees and characteristic peculiarities of either, none can tell. 6. We know that a fusion of races has always been for the advantage of the product ; and we can hopefully anticipate upon physiological grounds, a nobler race of men in bodily equipment from this vast commingling of bloods than ever before walked and developed the earth. It is not the sluggish concourse of lazy streams, leaving the waters on the top to stagnate, while, by pre- cipitation, it deposites mud below. It is the coming together of vigorous men, youthful, developed, energetic, and bearing their national traits susceptible of transmission. V. In this generation, the Irish and German shall yield a race of children to be commingled in the next with the Southerner and the New Englander. In a third generation these again will mix with the hardy constitution of the Scotch, or the cheer and hilari- ous patience of the French. But the Southerner will retain his propensities ; the Scot will die with his strongly marked peculiari- ties. The Irish and the German will be as broadly distinguished after living fourscore years upon our soil, as on the day they landed. 54 COBB'S SPEAKER. 8. No man can have gone through the western country without being struck with the universal tendency to Equality, without having felt how sweet a thing it is for man to find out that he is a man. Each man seems to say in his mien, carriage, rod deport- ment ; " There is not a man in this community that is by race, or law, or custom, more a man than I am. My vote is worth as much as another man's. I am an independent citizen of a great nation." 9. Many will look with disgust upon the assumption of a peasant to stand upon an equality with those, in older societies, above him. They scorn a liberty that makes his vote equal to the vote of Bacon or Newton ; as heavy, as decisive. But they who have longed to know how to raise up the masses of men, to give dignity and culture to rude and low, rejoice in any change or condition that brings upon men the responsibility of men, gives a sense of character, and educates them to the duties and rights of citizenship. 10. The men that were nothing here, have grown to be much there. There was no room for them here, the land was crowded. But, swept by Emigration, they subside in the Western valleys, and yield a harvest of fruits not possible before. Men that had no room to grow before they emigrated, shoot up with great force when set free from the pressure of older circumstances. 11. Emigration brings the mind out of a mechanical and con- servative state into a creative one. The tendency here is to Conser- vatism. A young man begins to earn and continues to earn till 50 or 60 years of age ; then there is a mutation. There is now the fear of losing what he has already gained. Age is the very nest in which misers are bred. 12. It is so with nations. When young they are vigorous, active, creative ; but as they grow rich and have more to take care of, they too insensibly change, and their vocation is to be guardians of the wealth they have hoarded. The great characteristic of mind in our young settlements is, that it is wide awake, and little anxious about past acquisitions or congealed and consolidated in- stitutions. 13. In our age, and in our country, Emigration brings the COBB'S SPEAKER. 55 human mind into the best condition for the propagation of religion and refinement. The stubbornness and prejudice of old and fixed ways are broken up. All things are new. The daily necessity is to receive new ideas ; to perform new actions. To create, to re- ceive, to progress, is the very law of new communities. The re- pellencies of older society are not yet developed. The mind is hungry, active, absorbent. 14. It is said that emigration tends to barbarism, because men leave their institutions behind them ; but they have not left that in- stinct behind them by which they must have some institutions. They have left those which were old, rickety, and decayed as their houses ; but, thank God, they can make other and better. In old communities, laws are made to preserve the possessions of the rich ; in new settlements they are made to protect the poor, be- cause they are made by the poor. 15. The great need of the mind in such a state, is institutions adapted to mould; that shall educate them, not restrain, not oppress them. The mind never takes a firm, fixed aspect, except under continued influences. It is not action, but courses of action, that give stamp and character to men. That which men need is not a gleam or sheet of light, but a sun that shall shine all the time, giving them a permanent daylight ; they need centres of permanent influence. This is the true way of educating men. LESSON IV. RURAL LIFE IN ENGLAND. IRVING. 1. The fondness for rural life among the higher classes of the English has had a great and salutary effect upon the national character. I do not know a finer race of men than the English gentlemen. Instead of the softness and effeminacy which charac- terize the men of rank in most countries, they exhibit a union of elegance and strength, a robustness of frame and freshness of com- 66 COBB'S SPEAKER. plexion, which I am inclined to attribute to their living so much in the open air, and pursuing so eagerly the invigorating recrea- tions of the country. 2. These hardy exercises produce also a healthful tone of mind and spirits, and a manliness and simplicity of manners, which even the follies and dissipations of the town can not easily pervert, and can never entirely destroy. In the country, too, the different orders of society seem to approach more freely, to be more disposed to blend and operate favorably upon each other. The distinctions between them do not appear to be so marked and impassable as in the cities. 3. The manner in which property has been distributed into small estates and farms, has established a regular gradation from the nobleman, through the classes of gentry, small landed proprie- tors, and substantial farmers, down to the laboring peasantry ; and while it has thus banded the extremes of society together, has in- fused into each intermediate rank a spirit of independence. This, it must be confessed, is not so universally the case at present as it was formerly; the larger estates having, in late years of distress, absorbed the smaller, and, in some parts of the country, almost annihilated, the sturdy race of small farmers. These, however, I believe, are but casual breaks in the general system I have men- tioned. 4. In rural occupation, there is nothing mean or debasing. It leads a man forth among scenes of natural grandeur and beautv ; it leaves him to the workings of his own mind, operated upon by the purest and most elevating of external influences. Such a man may be simple and rough but he can not be vulgar. The man of refinement, therefore, finds nothing revolting in an intercourse with the lower orders in rural life, as he does when he casually mingles with the lower order of cities. 5. He lays aside his distance and reserve, and is glad to waive the distinctions of rank, and to enter into the honest, heart-felt en- joyments of common life. Indeed, the very amusements of the country, bring men more and more together ; and the sound of hound and horn blend all feelings into harmony. I believe this is COBB'S SPEAKEK. 57 one great reason why the nobility and gentry are more popular among the inferior orders in England than they are in any other country, and why the latter have endured so many excessive press- ures and extremities, without repining more generally at the un- equal distribution of fortune and privilege. 6. To this mingling of cultivated and rustic society may also be attributed the rural feeling that runs through British literature : the frequent use of illustrations from rural life ; those incompara- ble descriptions of nature that abound in the British poets, that have continued down from " the Flower and the Leaf" of Chaucer, and have brought into our closets all the freshness and fragrance of the dewy landscape. 7. The pastoral writers of other countries appear as if they had paid nature an occasional visit, and become acquainted with her general charms ; but the British poets have lived and revelled with her ; they have wooed her in her most secret haunts ; they have watched her minutest caprices. A spray could not tremble in the breeze ; a leaf could not rustle to the ground ; a diamond drop could not patter in the stream ; a fragrance could not ex- hale from the humble violet, nor a daisy unfold its crimson teints to the morning, but it has been noticed by these impassioned and delicate observers, and wrought up into some beautiful morality. 8. The effects of this devotion of elegant minds to rural occupa- tions, has been wonderful on the face of the country. A great part of the island is rather level, and would be monotonous, were it not for the charms of culture ; but it is studded and gemmed, as it were, with castles and palaces, and embroidered with parks and gardens. It does not abound in grand and sublime prospects, but rather in little home scenes of rural repose, and sheltered quiet. Every antique farm-house and moss-grown cottage is a picture ; and as the roads are continually winding, and the view is shut in by groves and hedges, the eye is delighted by a continual succes- sion of small landscapes of captivating loveliness. 9. The great charm, however, of English scenery is the moral feeling that seems to pervade it. It is associated in the mind with ideas of order, of quiet, of sober, well-established principles, of 3* 58 COBB'S SPEAKER. hoary usage, and reverend custom. Every tiling seems to be the growth of ages of regular and peaceful existence. The old church of remote architecture, with its low massive portal ; its gothic tower ; its windows rich with tracery and painted glass, its scrupu- lous preservation ; its stately monuments of warriors and worthies of the olden time, ancestors of the present lords of the soil ; its tombstones, recording successive generations of sturdy yeomanry, whose progeny still plough the same fields, and kneel at the same altar ; the parsonage, a quaint irregular pile, partly antiquated, but repaired and altered in the tastes of various ages and occupants ; the stile and foot-path leading from the churchyard, across pleas- ant fields, and along shady hedge-rows, according to the immemo- rial right of way ; the neighboring village, and its venerable cot- tages, its public green sheltered by trees, under which the forefathers of the present race have sported ; the antique family mansion, standing apart in some little rural domain, but looking down with a protecting air on the surrounding scene : all these common features of English landscape, evince a calm and settled security, and hereditary transmission of home-bred virtues, and local attach- ments, that speak deeply and touehingly for the moral character of the nation. 10. It is a pleasing sight of a Sunday morning, when the bell is sending its sober melody across the quiet fields, to behold the peasantry in their best finery, with ruddy faces and modest cheer- fulness, thronging tranquilly along the green lanes to church ; but it is still more pleasing to see them in the evenings, gathering about their cottage doors, and appearing to exult in the humble comforts and embellishments, which their own hands have spread around them. 11. It is this sweet home-feeling, this settled repose of affection in the domestic scene, that is, after all, the parent of the steadiest virtues and purest enjoyments ; and I can not close these desultory remarks better, than by quoting the words of a modern English poet, who has depicted it with remarkable felicity : 12. Through each gradation, from the castled hall, The city dome, the villa crowned with shade, COBB'S SPEAKER. 59 But chief from modest mansions numberless, In town or hamlet, shelt'ring middle life, Down to the cottaged vale, and straw-roofed shed, This western isle hath long been famed for scenes Where bliss domestic finds a dwelling-place ; Domestic bliss, that, like a harmless dove, (Honor and sweet endearment keeping guard,) Can centre in a little quiet nest, All that desire would fly for through the earth ; That can, the world eluding, be itself A world enjoyed ; that wants no witnesses But its own sharers, and approving heaven ; That, like a flower deep hid in rocky cleft, Smiles, though 'tis looking only at the sky. LESSON V. BATTLE WITH LIFE. DICKENS' "HOUSEHOLD WORDS.' 1. Bear thee up bravely, Strong heart and true ! Meet thy woes gravely, Strive with them too ! Let them not win from thee Tear of regret, Such were a sin from thee, Hope for good yet ! 2. Rouse thee from drooping, Care-laden soul ; Mournfully stooping 'Neath grief's control ! Far o'er the gloom that lies, Shrouding the earth, Light from eternal skies Shows us thy worth. 60 COBB'S SPEAKER. 3. Nerve thee yet stronger, Resolute mind ! Let care no longer Heavily bind. Rise on thy eagle wings Gloriously free! Till from material things Pure thou shalt be ! 4. Bear ye up bravely, Soul and mind too ! Droop not so gravely, Bold heart and true ! Clear rays of streaming light Shine through the gloom, God's love is beaming bright E'en round the tomb ! LESSON VI. A WINTER LANDSCAPE IN RUSSIA. R. K. PORTER. J. Nothing- interesting presenting itself, we travelled onwards, through towns and villages, and over a dreary country, rendered many times more so by the season. All around was a vast wintry flat ; and frequently not a vestige of man or of cultivation was seen, not even a solitary tree, to break the boundless expanse of snow. Indeed, no idea can be formed of the immense plains we traversed, unless you imagine yourself at sea, far, far from the sight of land. 2. The Arabian deserts can not be more awful to the eye than the appearance of this scene. Such is the general aspect of the country during the rigors of winter, with now and then an exception of a large forest skirting the horizon for a considerable length of way. At intervals as you shoot along, you see openings among COBB'S SPEAKER. 61 its lofty trees, from which emerge picturesque groups of natives and their one-horse sledges, whereon are placed the different articles of commerce, going to various parts of this empire. 3. They travel in vast numbers, and from all quarters, seldom fewer than one hundred and fifty in a string, having a driver to every seventh horse. The effect of this cavalcade at a distance is very curious ; and in a morning, as they advance towards you, the scene is as beautiful as striking. The sun, then rising, throws his rays across the snow, transforming it to the sight into a surface of diamonds. 4. From the cold of the night every man and horse is incrusted with these frosty particles ; and the beams falling on them too, seem to cover their rude faces and rugged habits with a tissue of the most dazzling brilliants. The manes of the horses, and the long beards of the men, from the quantity of congealed breath, have a particularly glittering effect. LESSON VII. EGYPTIAN PYRAMIDS. E. D. CLARKE. 1. With what amazement did we survey the vast surface that was presented to us when we arrived at this artificial mountain, which seemed to reach the clouds. Here and there appeared some Arab guides upon the immense masses above us, like so many pigmies, waiting to show the way to the summit. Already some of our party had begun the ascent, and were pausing at the tremendous depth which they saw below. 2. One of our military companions, after having surmounted the most difficult part of the undertaking, became giddy in conse- quence of looking down from the elevation he had attained ; and, being compelled to abandon the project, he hired an Arab to assist him in effecting his descent. The rest of us, more accustomed to the business of climbing heights, with many a halt for respira- 62 COBB'S SPEAKER. tion, and many an exclamation of wonder, pursued our way tow- ards the summit. 3. The mode of ascent has been frequently described ; and yet from the questions that are often proposed to traveller*, it doei not appear to be generally understood. The reader may imagine him- self to be upon a staircase, every step of which, to a man of mid- dle stature, is nearly breast high; and the breadth of each step is equal to its height; consequently the footing i- iGOUMj and although a retrospect in going up, be sometimes fearful to penetfB unaccustomed to look down from any considerable elevation, yet there is little danger of falling. 4. In some place-, indeed, where tin- stones are decayed* eautioi may be required; and an Arab guide is always necessary, to avoid a total interruption ; but on the whole, the means of ascent are such, that almost every one may accomplish it. Our progress was impeded by other causes. We carried with us a few instruments, such as our boat-compass, a thermometer, a telescope, t* philanthropy are the most blessed and sublime privileges of our being; that it is not what we do for ourselves, but what we do for others, that makes our glory and happiness! would men but do each other good as they have done each other evil ! and instead of kingdoms and armies banded together for strife and slaughter, would that the associated power of the human race were put forth to heal the wounds and woes of life ! V. Come that day, looked after and longed for through ages ; seen dimly through the tears of faith and prayer ; seen clearly and brightly only in the vision of prophecy ; the day of the second coming of Christ ; the reign for a thousand years, of truth and mercy on earth ! Come that day, when " the rich and poor shall meet together," and God shall be acknowledged as " the Maker of them all !" Come the day, when cities shall be purged from their iniquities, and nations shall dwell in peace and happiness ! 8. Brethren, are not some harbingers of that coming day ; some stars in the east, shining before the pathway of nations ? In that great school of virtue and knowledge which has been opened on earth for six thousand years, hath not something been already learned ? Is not the world growing wiser, and will it not yet be- come too wise to bear the unnecessaiy miseries of war, and oppres- sion, and vice ? 9. Hath not the nation come into being on these very shores, which shall fulfil some of the hopes of long-suffering humanity ? COBB'S SPEAKER. 65 Are not ours the communities ? are not ours the cities, that shall perform this glorious work ? Alas! that it should be a question, when it is in our own power to make it a sublime certainty. Men of our cities and of our communities ! to you I put that question. Young men and old men ! matrons and maidens ! I put the question to you. 10. Young men ! whose virtues or vices are rolling the mighty burden of consequences on future times ; men of prosperous fortune and abounding wealth ! to whom God has intrusted the most glorious stewardship ever committed to mortals ; and ye of the softer sex ! to whom modern philanthropy hath opened a sphere of exertion, fair as your noblest sentiments and most beautiful virtues could desire ; I put the question to you ; I put it to you all. And remember, that futurity ; yes, the future welfare or wo of your children, shall answer it, in joy and gladness, or shall answer it in tears and blood ! LESSON IX. CLAIMS OF THE INDIANS. COL. DRAYTON. SOUTHERN REVIEW. 1. We are not unapprized of the existence of a class of moralists, who limit the right to land on this continent to the Aborigines, and to those who derive their title from them. We shall not formally discuss this position, which we conceive to be more proper for the abstraction of schoolmen, than for the investigation of statesmen and jurists. Those lawless Indian hordes, once so powerful and terrible, capable of crushing the united bands of our ancestors, have now dwindled into comparative insignificance. 2. Their numbers reduced, their warlike fire quenched ; instead of inspiring fear, they are objects of commiseration. Policy and humanity dictate that they should be treated w r ith considerate and liberal kindness, not, as some insist, because we have trampled upon their sovereignty, diminished their population, and usurped 66 COBB'S SPEAKER. their soil, but because from the natural course of circumstances, they have become empoverished and helpless, the rude savage in- variably contracting the vices without participating in the virtues and useful attainments of his civilized neighbors. 3. We have never been able to discover any force in the argu- ment, that as the Indians were the Aborigines of North America, and were scattered over its soil, they, therefore, by the law of na- ture, were the owners of it ; but we do discover an infinity of in- jurious consequences arising from the acknowledgment of the ex- clusive empire of the savage, over a territory never cultivated by his arm, nor seen by his eye. We can perceive neither justice, nor wisdom, nor humanity, in arresting the progress of order and science, that unproductive and barren wastes may be reserved for the roaming barbarian. 4. We shall never justify the tyranny of the strong, the vigilant, and the enlightened, over the feeble, the indolent, and the simple. We contend for no more, than that our forefathers, with untroubled consciences, might seat themselves upon fields far distant from human habitations, might possess themselves of forests which the red man had never traversed, and of rivers and lakes, whose sur- face he had never ruffled, but in the distant pursuit of his enemy or his prey. 5. " All mankind," says Vattell, " have an equal right to the things that have not yet fallen into the possession of any one ; and these things belong to the first possessor." " There is another celebrated question to which the discovery of the new world has principally given rise. It is asked, if a nation may lawfully take possession of a vast country, in which there are found none but erratic nations, incapable, by the smallness of their numbers, to people the whole ? 6. " We have already said, that the earth belongs to the whole human race, and was designed to furnish it with subsistence : if each nation had resolved from the beginning, to appropriate to it- self a vast country, that the people might live only by hunting, fishing, and wild fruits, our globe would not be sufficient to main- tain a tenth part of its present inhabitants. People, then, have COBB'S SPEAKER. 67 not deviated from the views of nature in confining Indians to their narrow limits." 7. To lay down rules distinguishing cases, in which nations may, and in which they may not take possession of vacant lands, would be difficult, if not impracticable. It would, we presume, be denied by no one, that the means of the Indian's subsistence, in his accus- tomed modes, should not be invaded ; but that what he neither uses nor needs, nor ever could have an opportunity of even claim- ing, may be appropriated by others, would seem to be equally just. Upon this, as upon many other questions under the law of nature, perplexities will occur : in disposing of them we ought to be governed by the precepts of religion and morals, which teach us, that power is not synonymous with right, and that peculiar for- bearance should be observed towards . the defenceless and the ignorant. LESSON X. TO THE SUSQUEHANNA, ON ITS JUNCTION WITH THE LACKAWANA. MRS. SIGOURNEY. 1. Rush on, glad stream, in thy power and pride, To claim the hand of thy promised bride ; For she hastes from the realm of the darkened mine, To mingle her murmured vows with thine ; Ye have met, ye have met, and your shores prolong The liquid tone of your nuptial song. 2. Methinks ye wed, as the white man's son And the child of the Indian king have done. I saw thy bride, as she strove in vain To cleanse her brow from the carbon stain ; But she brings thee a dowry so rich and true, That thy love must not shrink from the tawny hue. 68 COBB'S SPEAKER. 3. Her birth was rude in a mountain-cell, And her infant freaks there are none to tell ; Yet the path of her beauty was wild and free, And in dell and forest she hid from thee ; But the day of her fond caprice is o'er, And she seeks to part from thy breast no more. 4. Pass on, in the joy of thy blended tide, Through the land where the blessed Miquon* di< <1. No red man's blood, with its guilty stain, Hath cried unto God from that broad domain. With the seeds of peace they have sown the soil ; Bring a harvest of wealth for their hour of toil. 5. On, on, through the vale where the brave ones sleep, Where the waving foliage is rich and deep ; I have stood on the mountain, and roamed through the glen To the beautiful homes of the western men ; Yet naught in that reign of glory could see So fair as the vale of Wyoming to me. LESSON XL PRESCOTT'S CONQUEST OF MEXICO. DESCRIPTION OF THE CAPITAL. 1. The ancient city of Mexico covered the same spot occupied by the modern capital. The great causeways touched it in the same * A name given by the native Indians of Pennsylvania to William Penn. His kind and pacific treatment of them won their affections, and the Dela- wares were accustomed to call him their " beloved eider brother." — " The great and good Miquon came to us," said they, " bringing peace and good- will." His treaty made with them, under the great elm-tree at Shacka- maxon, where Kensington now stands, has been eloquently styled, " The only treaty ratified without an oath, and the only one that was never broken." i COBB'S SPEAKER. 09 points ; the streets ran in much the same direction, nearly from north to south, and from east to west ; the cathedral in the plaza mayor stands on the same ground that was covered by the temple of the Aztec war-god ; and the four principal quarters of the town are still known among the Indians by their ancient names. 2. Yet an Aztec of the days of Montezuma, could he behold the modern metropolis, which has risen with such phenix-like splendor from the ashes of the old, would not recognise its site as that of his own Tenochtitlan. For the latter was encompassed by the salt floods of Tezcuco, which flowed in ample canals through every part of the city ; while the Mexico of our day, stands high and dry on the main land, nearly a league distant, at its centre, from the water. The cause of this apparent change in its position is the diminution of the lake, which, from the rapidity of evaporation in these elevated regions, had become perceptible before the Conquest, but which has since been greatly accelerated by artificial causes. 3. The average level of the Tezcucan lake, at the present day, is but four feet lower than the great square of Mexico. It is con- siderably lower than the other great basins of water which are found in the valley. In the heavy swell sometimes caused by long and excessive rains, the latter reservoirs anciently overflowed into the Tezcuco, which, rising with the accumulated volume of waters, burst through the dikes, and pouring into the streets of the capital, buried the lower' part of the buildings under a deluge. This was comparatively a light evil, when the houses stood on piles so elevated that boats might pass under them ; when the streets were canals, and the ordinary mode of communication was by water. 4. But it became more disastrous, as the canals, filled up with the rubbish of the ruined Indian city, were supplanted by streets of solid earth, and the foundations of the capital were gradually reclaimed from the watery element. To obviate this alarming evil, the famous drain of Huehuetoca was opened at an enormous cost, in the beginning of the seventeenth century, and Mexico, after repeated inundations, has at length been placed above the reach of the flood. 70 COBB'S SPEAKER. 5. But what was gained to the useful in this ea-<-, m in others, has been purchased at the expense of the beautiful. By this shrinking of the waters, the bright towns and liainln washed by them, have been removed some miles into Che interior, while a barren strip of land, ghastly from the incrustatioii of salts formed on the surface, Iki^ taken the place of the growing regeta- tion which once enamelled the borders of th<> lake, ;inf the dark groves of oak, cedar, and Byoamon which threw their broad Bhadows over its bosom. 6. The ckinamjxis, that archipelago of wandering islands, t«» which our attention was drawn iii the last chapter, bare, nearly disappeared. These had th«ir origin in the detached massei of earth, which, loosening from the shores, were still held together by the fibrous matter with which they were penetrated. The primitive Aztecs, in their poverty of land, availed th em se l vee of the hint thus afforded by nature. They constructed rafts of i rushes, and other fibrous materials, which, tightly knit together, formed a sufficient basis for the sediment that they drew up from the bottom of the lake. 7. Gradually islands were formed, two or three hundred feet in length, and three or four fact in depth, with a rich stimulated soil, on which the economical Indian raised his vegetables and flowers for the markets of Tenochtitlan. Some of these chinampas were even firm enough to allow the growth of small trees, and to sustain a hut for the residence of the person that had charge of it, who with a long pole, resting on the sides or the bottom of the shallow basin, could change the position of his little territory at pleasure) which, with its rich freight of vegetable stores, was seen moving like some enchanted island over the water. 8. The ancient dikes were three in number. That of Iztapalapan, by which the Spaniards entered, approaching the city from the south. That of Tepejacac, on the north, which, continuing the principal street, might be regarded, also, as a continuation of the first causeway. Lastly, the dike of Hacopan, connecting the island-city with the continent on the west. This last causeway, memorable for the disastrous retreat of the Spaniards, was about COBB'S SPEAKEB. 71 two miles in length. They were all built in the same substantial manner, of lime and stone, were defended by draw-bridges, and were wide enough for ten or twelve horsemen to ride abreast. 9. The rude founders of Tenochtitlan built their frail tenements of reeds and rushes on the group of small islands in the western part of the lake. In process of time, these were supplanted by more substantial buildings. A quarry in the neighborhood, of a red porous amygdaloid tetrontli, was opened, and a light, brittle stone drawn from it, and wrought with little difficulty. Of this their edifices were constructed, with some reference to architectural solidity, if not elegance. Mexico, as already noticed, was the resi- dence of the great chiefs, whom the sovereign encouraged, or rather compelled, from obvious motives of policy, to spend a part of the year in the capital. 10. It was also the temporary abode of the great lords of Tezcuco and Hacopan, who shared nominally, at least, the sov- ereignty of the empire. The mansions of these dignitaries, and of the principal nobles, were on a scale of rude magnificence correspond- ing with their state. They were low, indeed; seldom of more than one floor, never exceeding two. But they spread over a wide extent of ground ; were arranged in a quadrangular form, with a court in the centre, and were surrounded by porticoes, em- bellished with porphyry and jasper, easily found in the neighbor- hood, while not unfrequently a fountain of crystal water in the centre shed a grateful coolness over the atmosphere. 11. The dwellings of the common people were also placed on foundations of stone, which rose to the height of a few feet, and were then succeeded by courses of unbaked bricks, crossed occa- sionally, by wooden rafters. Most of the streets were mean and narrow. Some few, however, were wide and of great length. The principal street, conducting from the great southern causeway, penetrated in a straight line the whole length of the city, and afforded a noble vista, in which the long fines of low stone edifices were broken occasionally by intervening gardens, rising on terraces, and displaying all the pomp of Aztec horticulture. 72 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON XII. NATURB. Thus, in thy world material, mighty mind, Not only that which solaces and shine9, The Rough, the Gloomy challenges our praise. 1. The treasures of the mineral kingdom, being more concealed, are not as alluring to the senses, and are of course, to most men, less interesting than animals or vegetables ; but they present them- selves to the reflecting mind under innumerable points of view that are interesting, chiefly as affording the materials on which nature, by her slow, but certain operations, is continually producing changes that tend to augment the multiplication of plants, for the preservation and accommodation of animals; while man, in the meanwhile, is endowed with faculties which enable him to avail himself of the qualities they poetess for his own purposes. 2. When we penetrate the dark and subterraneous magazine of Nature, we find veins fraught with the richest metals ; from hence comes that which gives value to the monarch's crown, and weight to his sceptre ; which, formed into coins, gives energy and life to traffic, rewards the toils of labor, and puts in the power of the affluent to warm the bosom of adversity, and make the widow and the orphan sing for joy ; or, beaten out into an inconceivable thinness, is made to cover with a transcendent lustre some of the coarsest of nature's productions, and render them ornamental in the palace of the great. 3. Here also is laid up the pale brightness of the Silver, which, formed into a variety of domestic utensils, sets off with peculiar lustre the choicest dainties of the rich man's table. And here is found the ponderous Lead, from which the cool and clean cistern is formed, as well as those convenient and safe aqueducts, by which the useful element of water is conveyed into the very hearts of our dwellings. 4. Here too are stores of Copper and Tin, by which sundry COBB'S SPEAKER. 73 utensils, formed of the former metal, are rendered more safe and fit for use : and here do we find in profuse abundance Mines, whose contents, although they may not be reckoned of equal value, have been found to be more beneficial in their services to man, than any of those already mentioned. 5. Iron furnishes the mechanic, the artist, and the laborer with their most useful implements and tools ; by Iron the farmer is enabled to tear up the most stubborn soil ; Iron secures our dwell- ings from the midnight thief, and confines, by its massy bars, the disturber of our peace to his gloomy cell ; by means of Iron, the vessel tossed with tempest is firmly attached to a place of safety, or prevented from being broken up by the raging elements, when overtaken by a storm in the midst of the watery waste. 6. In these dark vaults are also found that subtle, insinuating metal, Quicksilver, which so much resembles a fluid ; the uses of which in philosophy and medicine are so well known, as well as its importance in various arts and sciences. 7. From hence, also, are extracted a multitude of Mineral Salts and Saline Substances, together with a variety of Sul- phureous bodies. The astringent Alum, the green Borax, the volatile Nitre, the blue Vitriol of Hungary and Cyprus, the green of Germany and Italy, the shining Bismuth, the glittering Anti- mony, the brown-colored Cinnabar, the white Chalk, have all an origin in these dark apartments, as also that truly invaluable, black inflammatory substance, Coal, which ministers to our comfort in the room, presents "its services in the kitchen, assists the chemist and philosopher in their experiments, renders the work of the artist more easy, transforms the coarsest materials into transparency itself, by which means the light of day is admitted into our dwell- ings, while the cold inclemency of the weather is excluded ; the astronomer is enabled to extend his researches to worlds before in- visible to mortal eye ; the naturalist to observe the minutise of creation ; and the feeble eyes of old age furnished with new and invigorating powers. 8. From hence, also, is derived that wonderful mineral whose magnetic quality guides the mariner with unerring precision, be- 4 74 COBB'S SPEAKER. yond the pillars of Hercules, and enables him to find Ins solitary way across the pathless deep. 9. Here, also, in these dark recesses are conveniently laid up, a variety of strata of Stoves, and beds of Fossils; and hm rive their origin a number of valuable Jewels and transparent GEMS, as well as the firm and compact Marble, the Alabaster, the Porphyry, and the hard pellucid Flint. 10. Here, also, are to be found those quarries of Stones from which are constructed secure and comfortable dwellings lor man and beast; by which the arms «■!' the pier an- strengthened t-> repel the surges of the sea; the rampart is raised above the basis nature had formed; our property secured from the depredations of intruders ; the arched bridge thrown across the broad and rapid stream, and the stupendous aqueduct carried over the deep-sunk glen. 11. Here, too, are deposited a variety of curious Fossils and ex- traneous substances, which baffle the wisdom of the wise and puz- zle the reasoning of the naturalist to account for : and here are those vast layers of strata of earth, in all their variety, whose nature and uses are more apparent ; where the vegetable kingdom derives its support and nutriment, the trees of the forests spread their wide-extended roots, and the tender herb and flower of the field take hold of the dust ; where the pliable worm forces itself quietly along, the mole finds its darksome way, the foxes have holes, and the conies bury themselves. 12. Here is that tough and tenacious species of earth which administers its services to man in such a variety of shapes, and acts as a substitute for other commodities in situations where nature has denied them. Are some in want of stones for building? Clay, by undergoing a process, becomes firm and hard, to with- stand the most rigid blasts of winter. Are there no slate quarries in the neighborhood ? Clay, in the shape of tiles, forms an excel- lent substitute. Are we in want of Lead for pipes to convey onr water from a distance ? Clay comes in seasonably to our aid. 13. In short, by this mean-looking, dirty, and despised substance, we are abundantly supplied with a great variety of utensils and COBB'S SPEAKER. 75 vessels, neat in their structure, cleanly in the use, and though cheap in the purchase, extremely valuable in point of utility. Here are also commodiously lodged, a variety of other useful earths, -which it would encroach too much on our limits to attempt to enumerate. 14. These, with an innumerable variety of other useful and valuable materials, of which those w r e have mentioned may be considered as only a specimen, are safely locked up by Providence in this great store-house of Nature, and the key given to Industry, to take out and apply as necessity may require, or circumstances direct ; and in the disposition of wdiich we may be at a loss w r hat most to admire, the bounty of the Creator, in thus so largely making provision for our numerous wants, or his wisdom in placing them at such a convenient distance below the earth's surface, as neither to obstruct by their bulk the operations going on upon it, nor to be beyond the reach of moderate labor, when the necessities of man call aloud for their use. 15. How inconvenient would it have been, and what small space left for cultivation, had these useful layers of Stone and Lime, Coal and Clay, been promiscuously scattered about in our fields and vineyards, or piled up in uncouth, naked, and deformed masses, without the slightest depth of soil for a covering ; and how inaccessible to human labor and ingenuity, or to w r hat an expense and loss of time must man have been put in coming at them, had they been sunk miles instead of feet into the bowels of the earth ? Reflecting upon these things, we have good reason to exclaim, in goodness as well as " in wisdom hast thou made them all I" LESSON XIII. THE PRAIRIES. JAMES HALL. 1. The smaller prairies, or those in which the plain and woodland alternate frequently, are the most beautiful. The points of wood- land which make into them like so many capes or promontories, 76 COBB'S SPEAKER. and the groves which are interspersed like islands, are in these lesser prairies always sufficiently near to be clearly defined to the eye, and to give the scene an interesting variety. We see plains, varying from a few hundred acres to several miles in extent, not perfectly level, but gently rolling and undulating, like the swelling of the ocean when nearly calm. 2. The graceful curve of the surface is seldom broken, except when here and there the eye rests upon one of those huge mounds, which are so pleasing to the poet, and so perplexing to the antiquarian. The whole is overspread with grass and flowers, constituting a rich and varied carpet, in which a ground of lively green is ornamented with a profusion of the gaudiest hues, and fringed with a rich bor- der of forest and thicket. Deep recesses in the edge of the timber resemble the bays and inlets of a lake ; while occasionally a long vista, opening far back into the forest, invites the eye to roam off and refresh itself with the calm beauty of a distant perspective. 3. The traveller as he rides along over these smaller prairies, finds his eye continually attracted to the edges of the forest, and his im- agination employed in tracing the beautiful outline, and in finding out resemblances between these wild scenes and the most tastefully embellished productions of art. The fairest pleasure-grounds, the noblest parks of European noblemen and princes, where millions have been expended to captivate the senses with Elysian scenes, are but mimic representations, on a reduced scale, of the beauties which are here spread by nature ; for here are clumps and lawns, groves and avenues, the tangled thicket, and the solitary tree, the length- ened vista, and the secluded nook, and all the varieties of scenic attraction, but on a plan so extensive as to offer a wide scope and endless succession of changes to the eye. 4. There is an air of refinement here that wins the heart, even here, where no human residence is seen, where no foot of man intrudes, and where not an axe has ever trespassed on the beautiful domain. It is a wilderness shorn of every savage association, a desert that " blossoms as the rose." So different is the feeling awakened from any thing inspired by mountain or woodland scen- ery, that the instant the traveller emerges from the forest into the COBB'S SPEAKEK. 77 prairie, he feels no longer solitary. The consciousness that he is travelling alone, and in a wilderness, escapes him ; and he indulges in the same pleasing sensations which are enjoyed by one who, having lost his way, and wandered bewildered among the labyrinths of a savage mountain, suddenly descends into rich and highly cultivated plains, and sees around him the delightful indications of taste and comfort. 5. The gay landscape charms him. He is encompassed by the refreshing sweetness and graceful beauty of the rural scene ; and recognises, at every step, some well-remembered spot, or some ideal paradise, in which fancy had loved to wander, enlarged and beau- tiful, and as it were retouched by nature's hand. The clusters of trees so fancifully arranged, the forest outline so gracefully curved, seem to have been disposed by the hand of taste for the enjoyment of intelligent beings ; and so complete is the illusion, that it is dif- ficult to dispel the belief that each avenue leads to a village, and each grove conceals a splendid mansion. 6. Widely different was the prospect exhibited by the more north- ern and central districts of the state. Vast in extent, the distant forest was either beyond the reach of the eye, or was barely discern- ible in the shapeless outline of blue faintly impressed on the hori- zon. As the smaller prairies resemble a series of larger and lesser lakes, so these boundless plains remind one of the ocean waste. Here and there a solitary tree, torn by the wind, stood alone like a dismantled mast in the ocean. xAs I followed my guide through this lonely region, my sensations were similar to those of the voy- ager when his bark is launched upon the sea. Alone, in a wide waste, with my faithful pilot only, I was dependant on him for support, guidance, and protection. 7. With little to diversify the path, and nothing to please the eye but the carpet of verdure, which began to pall upon the sense, a feeling of dreariness crept over me ; a desolation of the spirit, such as one feels when crossed in love, or when very drowsy on a hot afternoon after a full dinner. But these are feelings which, like the sea-sickness of the' young mariner, are soon dispelled. I began to find a pleasure in gazing over this immense, unbroken waste, 78 COBB'S SPEAKER. in watching the horizon under the vague hope of meeting a trav- eller and in following the deer with my eyes as they galloped off, their agile forms growing smaller and smaller as they receded, un- til they shrank into nothing. 8. Sometimes I descried a dark spot at an immense distance, and pointed it out to my companion with a joy like that of the seaman who discovers a sail in the distant speck which floats on the ocean. When such an object happened to be in the direction of our path, I watched it with interest as it rose and enlarged upon the vision, supposing it at one moment to be a solitary horseman, and won- dering what manner of man he would turn out to be ; at another, supposing it might be a wild animal, or a wagon, or a pedestrian ; until, after it had seemed to approach for hours, I found it to be a tree. LESSON XIV -m'culloch. 1. The invention of the compass is usually ascribed to Flavio Gioia, of Amalli, in Campania, about the year 1302 ; and the Ital- ians are strenuous in supporting this claim. Others affirm, that Marcus Paulus, a Venetian, having made a journey to China, brought back the invention with him in 1260. The French also lay claim to the honor of this invention, from the circumstance that all nations distinguish the north point of the card by a fleur de lis ; and with equal reason, the English have laid claim to the same honor, from the name compass, by which most nations have agreed to distinguish it. But, whoever were the inventors, or at whatever period this instrument was first constructed, it does not appear that it was used in navigation in Europe, before the year 1420, or only a few years before the invention of printing. 2. In consequence of the discovery of this instrument, the coasts of almost every land on the surface of the globe have been explored, and a regular intercourse between the most distant nations opened. COBB'S SPEAKER. 79 The fate of the great human families, indeed, has been in a great measure decided by navigation. Is not the perpetual infancy of the Chinese owing chiefly to their ignorance of this art ? On the contrary, if the Japanese and the Malays exhibit a character manly and enterprising, in comparison of that of other Asiatics, it was formed at the epoch when their squadrons traversed the great East- ern ocean, which is at present filled with their colonies. 3. What has kept the people of Africa stationary in ignorance but their inland situation, their destitution of gulfs and arms of the sea, their inaccessibility to navigation ? What has given their as- cendency to the European nations but their knowledge of naviga- tion, and the aptitude of their countries for carrying it on ? Since the compass and Columbus appeared, has not a new world seen our vessels land on its shores ? has not a new Europe arisen 1 and has not the Atlantic ocean become what the Mediterranean was before, the great highway and thoroughfare of the civilized, world ? 4. But the march of civilization is far from being terminated ; the wonders we have witnessed may still be surpassed. The Eu- ropeans have not confined themselves to the shores of that Atlantic ocean, which, immense as it appeared to the Phoenician and the Greek navigators, is only an arm of the sea, compared to that great ocean, which under the names of the Indian, the Pacific, and the Eastern, extends from pole to pole. The American navigators have already crossed the whole of this aquatic hemisphere ; already British colonists have begun to settle in the innumerable islands which form, to the southeast of Asia, a fifth part of the world ; and Australasia, the most delightful country of the globe, will probably, ere many ages pass away, have reached the highest pin- nacle of civilization. 5. Let another Cadmus carry thither that torch of religion and science which enlightens Europe ! Let colonists, fraught with our learning, found a new Greece in Otaheite or the Pelew Islands, then those rising grounds, which now produce only aromatic herbs, will be covered w T ith towns and palaces : bays, now shaded by a forest of palms, will display a forest of masts ; gold and marble will be extracted from the bowels of mountains as yet untouched 80 COBB'S SPEAKER. by the miner ; coral and pearls will be dragged from the bottom of the sea to adorn the new capitals; and, one day, perhaps, Eu- rope, Asia, Africa, and America, will find equals and rivals in countries, whose existence, at this moment, scarcely occupies their attention. LESSON XV. THE CROWDED STREET. WILLIAM C. BRYANT. 1. Let me move slowly through the street, Filled with an ever-shifting train, Amid the sound of steps that beat The murmuring walks like autumn rain. 2. How fast the flitting figures come ! The mild, the fierce, the stony face ; Some bright with thoughtless smiles, and some Where secret tears have left their trace. 3. They pass ; to toil, to strife, to rest ; To halls in which the feast is spread ; To chambers where the funeral guest In silence sits beside the dead. 4. And some to^ happy homes repair, Where child en, pressing cheek to cheek, With mute caresses shall declare The tenderness they can not speak. 5. And some, who walk in calmness here, Shall shudder as they reach the door, Where one who made their dwelling dear, Its flower, its light, is seen no more. 6. Youth, w T ith pale cheek and slender frame, And dreams of greatness in thine eye ! COBB'S SPEAKER. 81 Goest thou to build an early name, Or early in the task to die ? 7. Keen son of trade, with eager brow ; Who is now fluttering in thy snare ? Thy golden fortunes, tower they now, Or melt the glittering spires in air ? 8. Who of this crowd, to-night, shall tread The dance till daylight gleams again ? Who sorrow o'er the untimely dead ? Who writhe in throes of mortal pain ? 9. Some, famine-struck, shall think how long The cold, dark hours, how slow the light ; And some, who flaunt amid the throng, Shall hide in dens of shame to-night. 10. Each, where his tasks or pleasures call, They pass, and heed each other not. There is who heeds, who holds them all In his large love and boundless thought. 11. These struggling tides of life that seem In wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end. LESSON XVI. INTELLECT. R. W. EMERSON. 1. The making a fact the subject of thought raises it. All that mass of mental and moral phenomena, which we do not make objects of voluntary thought, come within the power of fortune ; they constitute the circumstance of daily life ; they are subject to 4* 82 COBB'S SPEAKER. change, to fear, and hope. Every man beholds his human condi- tion with a degree of melancholy. As a ship aground is batter- ed by the waves, so man, imprisoned in mortal life, lies open to the mercy of coming events. But a truth, separated by the intel- lect, is no longer a subject of destiny. We behold it as a god upraised above care and fear. 2. And so any fact in our life, or any record of our fancies or reflections, disentangled from the web of our unconsciousness, be- comes an object impersonal and immortal. It is the past restored, but embalmed. A better art than that of Egypt has taken fear and corruption out of it. It is eviscerated of care. It is offered for science. What is addressed to us for contemplation does not threaten us, but make us intellectual beings. 3. We are all wise. The difference between persons is not in wisdom, but in art. I knew, in an academical club, a person who always deferred to me, who, seeing my whim for writing, fancied that my experiences had somewhat superior ; while I saw that his experiences were as good as mine. Give them to me, and I would make the same use of them. He held the old ; he holds the new ; I had the habit of tacking together the old and the new, which he did not use to exercise. This may hold in the great examples. 4. Perhaps, if we should meet Shakspeare, we should not be con- scious of any steep inferiority ; no ! but of a great equality ; only that he possessed a strange skill of using, of classifying his facts, which we lacked. For, notwithstanding our utter incapacity to produce any thing like Hamlet and Othello, see the perfect reception this wit, and immense knowledge of life, and liquid eloquence finds in us all. 5. If you gather apples in the sunshine, or make hay, or hoe corn, and then retire within doors, and shut your eyes, and press them with your hand, you shall still see apples hanging in the bright light, with boughs and leaves thereto, or the tasselled grass, or the corn-flags ; and this for five or six hours afterward. There lie the impressions on the retentive organ, though you knew it not. So lies the whole series of natural images with which your life has made you acquainted in your memory, though you knew it not ; and, a thrill of passion flashes light on their dark chamber, and the COBB'S SPEAKER. 83 active power seizes instantly the fit image, as the word of its momentary thought. It is long ere we discover how rich we are. 6. Our history, we are sure, is quite tame ; we have nothing to write, nothing to infer. But our wiser years still run back to the despised recollections of childhood, and always are we fishing up some wonderful article out of that pond, until, by and by, we be- gin to suspect that the biography of the one foolish person we know, is in reality, nothing less than the miniature paraphrase of the hundred volumes of the Universal History. LESSON XVII. SPEECH OF DR. PETER WILSON, A NATIVE IROQUOIS, BEFORE THE HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF THE CITY OF NEW YORK, AT THE UNIVERSITY, MAY 4, 1847. [Dr. Peter Wilson, in his native tongue, Wa-o-wa-wa-na-onk, or They heard his voice, said, he was very happy to meet the gentlemen of the Historical Society on this occasion, the Historical Society of Ga-nun-no, or the Empire State, as it is called by the Pale Faces.] 1. "You see before you," said he, "an Iroquois, yes, a native American ! You have heard a history of the great Indian trails, the geography of the state of New York, before it was known to the Pale Faces. The land of Ga-nun-no, was once laced by these trails from Albany to Buffalo, trails that my people had trod for centuries, worn so deep by the feet of the Iroquois, that they be- came your own roads of travel, when my people no longer walked in them. 2. " Your highways still lie in those paths, the same lines of com- munication bind one part of the ' Long House' to another. My friend has told you that the Iroquois have no monuments. These are their monuments. The land of Ga-nun-no, the Empire State, is our monument. We wish to lay our bones under its soil among those of our fathers. We shall not long occupy much room in living ; still less when we are gone." 84 COBB'S SPEAKER. 3. The time was already far advanced, but he was happy to have the opportunity for a few remarks on a subject in which the Iroquois were deeply interested. He was glad to hear the remarks of his friend, Mr. Morgan, and to observe the interest they excited. He had nothing to add on that subject. He would speak of his mission, which was now more important to himself as well as his race. 4. He was here on behalf of a small band of his countrymen, who had been by fraud induced to leave their lands in the state of New York, and emigrate to the west of the Mississippi. They were a portion of the Iroquois, who were removed in 1846, deceived by the representations of the agents of the government. He had been to Washington to seek relief for them. 5. The facts were admitted by the department, with regard to the deceptions of the agent and the sufferings of this unfortunate people. They have also been substantiated here. After their arrival west of the Mississippi, disease came among them A large portion were laid in the bosom of their mother earth. Some chiefs who had returned, represented their condition as deplorable. Not one but would return, but they have not means. 6. One chief, who returned, said to another as he saw his friends dying off, " You see we are going into our graves. Graves already prepared, people falling into them. Let us go back to the country of our fathers." The old chief refused to go. He had been de- ceived and had been made to deceive his people. " I shall not leave ; leave my friends to death. More they die here ; I will stay. I will leave my bones here. If you leave, go ! You al- ways told me it was good country. I stood by you. You deceived me. You have deceived my people. They not to blame." When his last hour arrived, he told his wife, " Lay my bones here ; do not take them back to New York, but tell them I fell here as a brave warrior. I was at Chippewa and Fort Erie ; never deserted my people ; therefore I will leave my bones here among my people. I shall be contented." * 1. After his death, all were sick. They were twelve miles from Fort Scott. The sun poured his rays upon them ; they were forced COBB'S SPEAEER. 85 to crawl into the ravines to escape the burning heat A company of soldiers, though put there to shoot down Indians, had the hu- manity to take pity on them. They ministered to them, gave them water and food. 8. The subject has been laid before the government. The de- partment disclaimed the acts of its agents ; but could do nothing without the action of Congress. He was advised to apply to the Legislature, and had done so : but nothing was to be expected from them at present, although they made an examination of the case. 9. The facts were plain. To dwell on them would be too long. The Indians were there suffering and desirous to return. He asked all friends of humanity to aid them. He approved the sympathy with suffering in other lands, and asked that the suffering remnant of the once powerful Iroquois might be included in the sphere of that generous philanthropy, which sent relief to the Greek, the Pole, and the inhabitants of the British Islands. 10. Dr. Wilson then referred to the history of the intercourse of the original inhabitants with the whites, and particularly the relations of the Iroquois to the English Colony of New York. The history of that intercourse was aggression, retaliation, exter- mination. 11. "I have been told," said he, "that the first object of this Society is to preserve the history of the State of New York. You, all of you. know, that alike in its wars and its treaties the Iroquois, long before the Revolution, formed a part of that history ; that they were then one in council with you, and were taught to be- lieve themselves one in interest. In your last war with England, your red brother, your elder brother, still came up to help you, as of old, on the Canada frontier ! 12. "Have we, the first holders of this prosperous region, no longer a share in your history • Glad were your forefathers to sit down upon the threshold of the ' Long House ;' rich, did they then hold themselves, in getting the mere sweepings from its door. Had our forefathers spurned you from it when the French were thundering at the opposite end, to get a passage through and drive 86 COBB'S SPEAKER. you into the sea, whatever lias been the fate of other Indians, the Iroquois might still have been a nation ; and I, too, might have had — a country ! 13. There is a tradition among the Iroquois race that no white man can enter the regions of happiness of the Great Spirit, except General Washington ; and he only to within a certain distance, where the sweepings of the house are thrown out, and that is a great blessing. And what is the reason ? A great many persons say the Indians are bad, they are savages ; and they are taught this when a child ; perhaps the first book the child looks at he will see a picture of some Indians, yelling and shouting, and thus they are taught to consider them as savages. 14. But this is a mistake; they are as kind as any other peo- ple ; the Great Spirit made the Indian and gave him feelings, the same as the Pale Faces. The Indian loves his child as much as the Pale Faces, and I am inclined to think even a little more. You never hear of an Indian disinheriting his child, for his religion teaches him to consider a child a blessing. Now when the Pale Faces heard of the confederacy of the Six Nations, they came from the east, and they said, ' The Great Spirit made us as well as you, and therefore he is our father and we are brothers.' 15. The Indian thought this good logic ; but they said, ' We have a father across the great salt water, the King of England ; and he is also your father ; and when his enemies fight against him, you must fight against his enemies ;' and the Indian said he would. Well, the first thing we knew, the red-coats were fighting at Bun- ker Hill ; the son was fighting against his father : so we took our tomahawks and fought against these unnatural sons. But the sons conquered, and England was compelled to grant the independence of her colonies. 16. Then the Pale Faces came, and they said, ' You fought with us ; you have forfeited your right to this land and must go away ;' but General Washington said, ' Come back, and remain in your land, and make your homes with us.' Then the prophet said, the white men are bad, and can not dwell in the regions of the Great COBB'S SPEAKER. 87 Spirit, except General Washington, and he conkl only be admitted to the distance I have stated. 17. There was a Prophet of our race, in early times, who prophesied that the days would come when troubles would fall upon them, so that they would knock their heads together. When that time came, they were to search for a large palm-tree, and shelter their heads beneath its shadow ; let their bodies be buried at its roots, and cause that tree to nourish and become the fitting monument of the Iroquois race. That time has now come ; we are in trouble and distress ; we knock our heads together in ago- ny, and we desire to find the palm-tree, that we may lie down and die beneath it ; we wish the palm-tree to be the State of New York, that it may be the monument of the Iroquois." LESSON XVIII. THE TURKS AT A FIRE. DE VERE, SKETCHES. 1. I was not long at Constantinople before I came in for what is of very frequent occurrence there, namely, a fire. Indeed, I believe that, as a storm is said to be always going on in some part of the sea, so a conflagration, larger or smaller, is always raging in some part of the narrow wooden streets of Stamboul. 2. The people have few public amusements, and this is con- sidered one of the best, if I may judge by the demeanor of the crowds, whose singular bearing was to me more interesting than the spectacle I witnessed in common with them. At first I knew not what it meant. I had observed that vast multitudes were moving with what, for a Turk, is haste, toward the court of one of their mosques, and, stationing themselves, as soon as they had reached it, on the steps, balustrades, and every spot whence a view was commanded. 3. Joining their company, I discovered the cause of the assembly in a whole street from which clouds of smoke were rising, and 88 COBB'S SPEAKER. from which it was every moment expected that the flames would burst. Nothing could exceed the business-like alacrity of those who struggled for a place in the balconies, or the placid enjoyment of those who had attained one. In expectation of the event, piles of carpets, pillows, and cushions had been already brought from the neighboring houses, and placed wherever room could be found. 4. On those comfortable seats the multitude had established themselves, the men in one part, sedately smoking, the women in another, now looking on, and now playing with their children. In a moment, refreshments of all sorts were provided ; sweetmeats, confectionery, and sherbet, by a number of rival purveyors, who advanced with unalarmed alacrity, amid the smoke and falling sparks, plainly considering the scene of destruction a sort of ' benefit,' got up for their especial behoof, and unceremoniously elbowing to one side the police, who rushed, with pails of water on their heads, to the rescue of the burning houses. 5. in a few minutes more, the flames burst oat with a loud crash mounting high into the heavens, and flinging an exciting and pleasurable heat into the face of the crowds, who, without ever re- moving their pipes, (except to drink,) gazed with silent but impas- sioned interest on a scene which, to them, was no more a matter of surprise than a street-preacher would be in Edinburgh, a ' Fun- ziane' at Rome, or Punchinello at Naples. Among the calm crowd of spectators were the proprietors of the burning houses, smoking like their neighbors, and well assured that their loss had been determined by Allah long before the prophet was born. LESSON XIX. RECOLLECTIONS OF CHINA. MRS. CAROLINE H. BUTLER. 1. Of the most pleasing reminiscences of my sojourn at Macao is that derived from the acquaintance formed with Mr. Gutziaff and his amiable lady. Mr. Gutziaff is too well known as a travel- ler to require any explanation as to who or what he may be. COBB'S SPEAKEK. 89 When speaking of China, Mr. Gutzlaff appeared perfectly enthusi- astic, and willing to devote all his time and labors to the conversion and improvement of the natives. 2. On Sundays he usually preached to them in their own lan- guage. He has penetrated far into the interior of that vast empire, and describes those he has visited as being wonderful. In no country on the face of the globe, he observed, had the hand of man accomplished such stupendous works as in China. Their dikes and canals, he considers, the eighth and ninth wonders of the world. The conversation of Mr Gutzlaff is extremely versatile and enter- taining. 3. Mrs. Gutzlaff at that time had a large school at Macao, which on their invitation we visited several times. It was a pleas- ing scene to view Mrs. Gutzlaff sitting in the midst of her scholars, giving them instruction from the New Testament, in lieu of the four celebrated books of Confucius, which are considered the summum bonum of Chinese education. There were between thirty and forty pupils attached to this school, of whom only two were girls, and those blind ! These scholars all reside under the same roof with Mr. Gutzlaff, at whose expense, as I was informed, they were fed and clothed. 4. Blindness and ophthalmia prevail to a distressing degree in China. One can not walk through the narrow, crooked streets of Macao without encountering many of these miserable beings. At the gate of Lazarus, in particular, there are always congregated the most wretched objects it is possible to conceive ; the lame, the halt, and blind ; poor famishing beggars, all rags and filth, here stretch themselves under the large India fig-trees, or around the brink of the fountain which is there excavated. There is probably no nation in which there is so much suffering as among the lower order of the Chinese. 5. The Caza Garden at Macao is celebrated for containing within its precincts the cave in which Luis De Camoens composed his Lusiad, and being one of the greatest lions of the place, on one bright and balmy afternoon, attended by our compradore, we strolled thither. 90 COBB'S SPEAKER. C. The coup cToeil as we entered the garden was truly beautiful ; it was like an actual peep into fairy land. It is of great extent, covering some acres of ground, and embraces within its precincts some of the most retired and romantic spots one can imagine. It seems as if nature, in one of her wildest moods, had here combined all her powers to form a scene of perfect romance, with which art has so nicely blended as to increase, instead of diminishing, the effect. 7. Large masses of rocks from twenty to thirty feet in height, their summits crowned with beautiful trees, rise in different parte of the garden. Some of these rocks are entirely bare, while others are covered with a delicate creeping vine, or the roots of the banian- tree form a beautiful and curious net-work over them. The walks are broad and bordered with a variety of trees and shrubs: the orange-tree, the double-flowering peach, magnolias, japonicas, pomegranates, beautiful roses and carnations, and many others whose names were unknown to me, but whose fragrance filled the air. 8. One roves through these delightful alleys, charmed by the sweet odor of roses and the melody of the birds. One moment finds you encircled by immense rocks, pile upon pile ; a step or two farther, and you are beneath the shade of the banian, its rich dark foliage waving over you, while the roots are twisting and twining in a thousand fantastic shapes over every thing around. At almost every turn, a new and beautiful view was presented to us. From one quarter rose the majestic Lapa ; the waters of the inner harbor gently laving its base, while the numerous Portuguese and Chinese craft floating on its bosom, were plainly reflected in the calm transparence. 9. Again ; you are looking down as from a precipice upon the busy tumult of a Chinese village, with its gay decorations of colored paper hung around the doors and walls as propitiatory offerings to " Josh f the hum of voices, the yelping of their ugly yellow dogs, the beatings of gongs and cries of children coming " full and thick upon the ear." From another quarter the island of Kean-shan stretches far in the distance, and over the narrow neck of land COBB'S SPEAKER. 91 connecting it with Macao, a party of English and Americans were gayly galloping along the beach. 10. From the centre of the garden rises a high and irregular peak on which he erected a summer-house. To this we commenced our ascent ; at one time almost sliding along a hard clay path as smooth as marble, or by steps excavated in the solid rock, the whole distance guarded by elephants, bisons, and dragons formed of clay, with orange and peach-trees, magnolias, and pinks sprouting from their backs. When we had nearly reached the summit, a quiet path diverged to the left; into this we turned, and in a few moments found ourselves before the cave of Camoens. 11. The cave is formed by the close approximation of three large rocks, which uniting at the top, form a circular little cell, not large enough, however, to contain more than two persons. Here it was, then, that the unfortunate poet, banished from his country, and from his fair mistress Catharine D'Attayde ; here it was that, shut out as it were from the world, he sought to forget, amid the scenes of nature, the cruelty of his king and country. 12. But the muse, fickle goddess as she is, deserted him not ; how could she ? for every breeze that played amid the branches waving before his rocky abode, came laden with the richness of the orange blossom, and his ear caught no sound save the sweet melody of the birds, or the dashing of the surf on the rocky beach below him. When afterward, recalled to his country, a few years saw him a beggar in the streets of his own " fair Lisbon," depend- ant upon the alms bestowed by the hand of charity on his faithful slave, did not his heart yearn for this hallowed retreat % 13. Leaving the cave, we continued our ascent to the summer- house, from which the view is very fine. The Praya-Granda with its white dwellings, sweeping in such a graceful curve from the water ; the several forts, convents and churches, crowning each lofty eminence around, and the extensive view of the ocean, with Lantau, the Niue Islands, and Lintin Peak in the distance, com- bined to render the landscape most enchanting. 14. As we returned, we passed through the campo, and ascended 92 COBB'S SPEAKER.^ Mont Charil, on which stands Fort Guia. The campo is a largo open field, covering some acres, and ascends gradually to Mont Charil, the whole surface being thickly scattered with graves. In deed, every hill is a sepulchre in China. These graves are in thf form of a horse-shoe ; and, from little st a tea placed at their sid< usually flutter small strips of white cloth or paper. 15. Once a year, in the month of August, the Chinese cJeWa i the u Festival of the Dead." They then visit the graves ->f tlv r departed relatives, taking with them such provisions as they c m afford, which they place at the head of the grave. They t' en burn quantities of gold and silver paper, believing that the a. .lies of the same will become money in the other world; this their friends receive, and will therefore be enabled to subsist comfortably until another festival returns ! 1G. The respect and affection the Chinese bear the dead are an object of admiration. They will deprive themselves of any com- fort to procure the gold and silver paper for the use of the deceased ; and unhappy indeed he who dies, knowing that he has no relative that may thus reverence his remains. This festival for the dead lasts nearly a week ; and, during that time, it is said, the hills seem to be on fire. 17. Pursuing our walk through this vast cemetery, we soon reached the highest elevation of the campo, and looked down upon the green paddy fields stretched below us. These are on a flat which is sometimes overflowed ; here they cultivate their rice and vegetables. There is no division by fences, but all is one bright green surface. Several Chinese laborers were busy watering their respective tracts ; they have large reservoirs of water around the border of their land ; two men stand, one on each side, holding a long wire or flexible pole, to the middle of which hangs a bucket ; this they dash into the reservoir, and then swing the con- tents over the field. They perform this novel mode of watering with great apparent ease and rapidity. 18. We at length reached the summit of Mont Charil, and passing through a large gate, from which waved the flag of Por- tugal, we entered the fort. There was not an officer or soldier in COBB'S SPEAKER. 93 the garrison, they having all marched over to the Monte Fort, to celebrate the installation of a new governor ; and while we were admiring and pointing out to each other particular views of beauty, the firing from the Monte Fort commenced ; the loud re- verberation echoing and re-echoing through the islands and hills around. 19. Every thing within the fort was neat and orderly; the court was paved with large flat stones ; on the walls were mounted eighteen bronze and iron cannon, and at one extremity rises a huge stone cross. We entered the chapel attached to the fort ; it is very small, the walls white and painted around the ceiling with wreaths cf flowers, and in various niches are waxen images of the Virgin and Saints. LESSON" XX. SOCIAL DUTIES. G. B. EMERSON. 1. Next in importance are our social duties ; those which arise from our relation to our fellow-creatures, and are compre- hended in the second great commandment of the New Testament. These should be daily and regularly explained and enforced. The general neglect of this most important part of education seems to proceed partly from a belief that it is sufficiently provided for by the instruction of parents, and of the ministers of religion. If instruction in social duties were sufficiently given elsewhere, it would indeed be superfluous to insist upon it in school. But this is far from the case. 2. A large portion of the parents whose children fill the public schools, are either disinclined, or are unqualified by their want of education, or by the engrossing nature of their occupations, to give suitable instruction in social duties ; or, what produces the same effect, they conceive themselves unqualified. At home, then, the instruction is often not obtained. Neither is it, in very 94 COBB'S SPEAKER. many cases, at church. Many children are of necessity unfre- quent attendants at church ; some go not at all, and to many more, the instructions of the pulpit are not suited. These are usually addressed to grown men ; and if, occasionally, direct addresses are made to children, such as are present ; they are naturally and properly much more occupied with religious than with social duties. 3. A regular course of instruction from the pulpit upon social duties, adapted to the capacities of children, is, I believe, very rare. This may be right, and I do not mean to say that it is not. But it certainly is not right, that, in a country like our>, regular, systematic instruction in the social relations and duties should no where be given. The schools are eminently a social institution. They are provided by law, maintained at the public expense, and intended for the instruction of the whole community in those things which are essential to the public good. They are, there- fore, especially, on every account, the place in which instruction in social duties should be given. 4. The discovery has been made, and in some places men have begun to act upon it, that it is better to prevent the commission of crime, than to punish it when committed ; that a merciful code of school laws may be made to take the place of a sanguinary code of criminal laws ; that good schools are better than bad jails ; that a land schoolmaster is a more useful member of society than a savage executioner ; that capital instruction is bet- ter than capital punishment ; that it is better and easier to teach a boy to love a heavenly Judge, and keep his commandments, than to teach a man to fear an earthly judge, after he has broken the commandments ; that it is more pleasant to spend a long life in the service of God and mankind, and the enjoyment of health and prosperity, than to divide a short life between the poor-house and the prison, and end it on a gallows ; that it is better to prepare men to fill their own pockets honestly, than to tempt them to empty their neighbors' dishonestly. 5. If these are truths, the teacher has a most important public duty to perform. If it be true that, to form the child, by daily COBB'S SPEAKER. 95 instruction and daily training, to a regard for the laws of justice, integrity, truth, and reverence, so that he shall grow up mindful of the rights of others, a good neighbor, a good citizen, and an honest man, is better and more reasonable, than to leave him in these respects unformed or misled, and to endeavor afterward to correct his mistakes and enlighten his moral sense by the weekly instructions of the pulpit, and the influence of the laws of the land; the teacher must give regular and systematic instruction in social duties. 6. If these are truths, the teacher has a great work to peiform. He has to lay deep the foundations of public justice. He has to give that profound and quick sense of the sacredness of right, and the everlasting obligation of truth, without which, law will have no sanctity, private contracts no binding force, the pulpit no reverence, justice no authority. If these are truths, and if it is a greater thing to form than to reform, it becomes all parents to look to it, what manner of men they have for their children's teachers. LESSON XXI. ON SEEING A BEAUTIFUL BOY AT PLAY. N. P. WILLIS. 1. Down the green slope he bounded. Raven curls From his white shoulders by the winds were swept, And the clear color of his sunny cheek Was bright with motion. Through his open lips Shone visibly a delicate line of pearl, Like a white vein within a rosy shell, And a dark eye's clear brilliance, as it lay Beneath his lashes, like a drop of dew Hid in the moss, stole out as covertly As starlight from the edging of a cloud. 2. I never saw a boy so beautiful. His step was like the stooping of a bird, 96 COBB'S SPEAKER. And his limbs melted into grace like things Shaped by the wind of summer. He was like A painter's fine conception ; such a one As he would have of Ganymede, and treep Upon his palette that he could not win The vision to his easel. 3. Who could paint The young and shadowless spirit ? Who could chain The visible gladness of a heart that li\ Like a glad fountain, in the eye of light, With an unbreathing pencil ? Nature's gift Has nothing that is like it. 4. Sun and stream, And the new leaves of June, and the young lark That flies away into the depths of heaven, Lost in his own wild music, and the breath Of spring-time, and the summer eve, and noon In the cool autumn, are like fingers swept Over sweet-toned affections ; but the joy That enters to the spirit of a child, Is deep as his young heart : his very breath, The simple sense of being, is enough To ravish him, and like a thrilling touch He feels each moment of his life go by. 5. Beautiful, beautiful childhood ! with a joy That like a robe is palpable, and flung Out by your every motion ! delicate bud Of the immortal flower that will unfold And come to its maturity in heaven ! I weep your earthly glory. 6. 'Tis a light Lent to the new-born spirit that goes out With the first idle wind. It is the leaf COBB'S SPEAKER. 97 Fresh flung upon the river, that will dance Upon the wave that stealeth out its life, Then sink of its own heaviness. 7. The face Of the delightful earth will to your eye Grow dim ; the fragrance of the many flowers Be noticed not, and the beguiling voice Of nature in her gentleness, will be To manhood's senseless ear inaudible. I sigh to look upon thy face, young boy ! LESSON XXII. HISTORY OF ENGLAKD. MACAULAY. 1. If we would study with profit the history of our ancestors, we must be constantly on our guard against that delusion which the well-known names of families, places, and ofiices naturally produce, and must never forget that the country of which we read was a very different country from that in which we live. In every experimental science there is a tendency towards perfection. In every human being there is a wish to meliorate his own condition. These two principles have often sufficed, even when counteracted by great public calamities and by bad institutions, to carry civ- ilization rapidly forward. 2. No ordinary misfortune, no ordinary misgovernment, will do so much to make a nation wretched, as the constant progress of physical knowledge and the constant effort of every man to better himself will do to make a nation prosperous. It has often been found that profuse expenditure, heavy taxation, absurd commercial restrictions, corrupt tribunals, disastrous wars, seditions, persecu tions, conflagrations, inundations, have not been able to destroy capital so fast, as the exertions of private citizens have been able to create it. 5 98 COBB'S SPEAKER. 3. It can easily be proved that, in our own land, the national wealth has, during at least six centuries, been almost uninterrupt- edly increasing; that it was greater under the Tndors than under the Plantagenets ; that it was greater under the Stuarts than under the Tudors; that in spite of battles, sieges, and confiscations, it was greater on the day of the Restoration than on the day when the Long Parliament met; that, in spite of maladministration, of extravagance, of public bankruptcy, of two costly and unsuccessful wars, of the pestilence and of the tire, it was greater on the day of the death of Charles the Second than on the day of his restoration, 4. This progress, having continued during many ages, became at length, about the middle of the eighteenth century, portentously rapid, and has proceeded, during the nineteenth, with accelerated velocity. In consequence, partly of our geographical and partly of our moral position, we have, during several generations, been ex- empt from evils which have elsewhere impeded the efforts and destroyed the fruits of industry. While every part of the conti- nent, from Moscow to Lisbon, has been the theatre of bloody and devastating wars, no hostile standard has been seen here but as a trophy. While revolutions have taken place all around us, our government has never once been subverted by violence. During a hundred years, there has been in our island no tumult of suffi- cient importance to be called an insurrection. 5. The law has never been borne down, either by popular fury or by regal tyranny. Public credit has been held sacred. The administration of justice has been pure. Even in times which might by Englishmen be justly called evil times, we have enjoyed what almost every other nation in the w r orld would have consider- ed as an ample measure of civil and religious freedom. Every man has felt entire confidence that the state w r ould protect him in the possession of w T hat had been earned by his diligence, and hoard- ed by his self-denial. Under the benignant influence of peace and liberty, science has flourished, and has been applied to practical purposes on a scale never before known. 6. The consequence is that a change to which the history of the old world furnishes no parallel has taken place in our country. COBB'S SPEAKER. 99 Could the England of 1685 be, by some magical process, set be- fore our eyes, we should not know one landscape in a hundred, or one building in ten thousand. The country gentleman would not recognise his own fields. The inhabitant of the town would not recognise his own street. Every thing has been changed, but the great features of nature, and a few massive and durable works of human art. 7. We might find out Snowdon and Windermere, the Cheddar Cliffs and Beachy Head. We might find out here and there a Norman minster, or a castle which witnessed the wars of the Roses. But, with such rare exceptions, every thing would be strange to us. Many thousands of square miles which are noAV rich corn- land and meadow, intersected by green hedge-rows, and dotted with villages and pleasant country-seats, would appear as moors over- grown with furze, or fens abandoned to wild ducks. 8. We should see straggling huts built of wood and covered with thatch, where we now see manufacturing towns, and sea-ports renowned to the farthest ends of the world. The capital itself would shrink to dimensions not much exceeding those of its pres- ent suburb on the south of the Thames. Not less strange to us would be the garb and manners of the people, the furniture and the equipages, the interior of the shops and dwellings. Such a change in the state of a nation seems to be at least as well entitled to the notice of an historian, as any change of the dynasty or of the ministry. LESSON XXIII. SUPPLY OF WATER IN CONSTANTINOPLE. SKETCHES OF TURKEY, BY DR. DEKAY. 1. Every stranger is struck with the numerous contrivances around Constantinople for supplying it with pure and wholesome water. Under the Greek emperors, Constantinople was supplied with water by these means, and large reservoirs were established in different parts of the city. These latter, however, have now 100 COBB'S SPEAKER. gone into disuse, as expensive and inadequate for the purposes intended. 2. Under the present system, all the water-works about Con- stantinople are under the management of an officer, termed soo naziri, or inspector of waters. It is his business to keep them in good repair, and be is responsible for any accidents which may obstruct or diminish the supply. As no time is to be lost to re- pair injuries, this officer is clothed with great power, and he com- pels every one to assist in restoring the line of communication. 3. This resembles the corvee of old France in sonde BMteore, but is much more oppressive; for, the 800 naziri fines them rigor- ously all who dwell in the vicinity of any breach or injury, unless they give immediate information of the disaster. So important are these water-courses considered, that the sultans have always been in the habit of mating annually a formal visit of inspection, which is accompanied with much ceremony, and ordering such improvements and alterations as are deemed necessary. 4. It is impossible to travel any where in the vicinity of Con- stantinople without being struck with the great pains taken by the Turks to treasure up every rill, or the minutest trickle from the face of the rocks. These are carefully collected in marble or brick reservoirs, and the surplus is conveyed by pipes to the main stream. In passing through sequestered dells, the traveller frequently comes suddenly upon one of these sculptured marble fountains, which adds just enough of ornament to embellish the rural scene. 5. They are frequently decorated with inscriptions, setting forth the greatness and goodness of Providence, and inviting the weary traveller to make due acknowledgments for the same. Unlike our civilized ostentation, the name of the benevolent constructer never appears on these sculptured stones. The quaint Turkish adage, which serves as a rule of conduct, is well exemplified in this, as w r ell as in many other instances ; " Do good and throw it into the sea ; if the fishes do not know it, God will." 6. Among the hills at various distances, from fifteen to twenty miles from the city, are constructed large artificial reservoirs. These are termed bendtx, a word of Persian origin, and are built COBB'S SPEAKER. 101 in the following manner : advantage is taken of a natural situation, such as a narrow valley or gorge between two mountains, and a strong and substantial work of masonry is carried across, sufficiently high to give the water its required level. Four of these bendts were visited and examined, but there were several others which we did not see. A description of one of the largest will give an idea of the manner in which they are constructed. 7. A solid wall of marble masonry, eighty feet wide, and sup- ported by two large buttresses, rises to the height of a hundred and thirty feet from the bottom of the valley. It is four hundred feet long, and the top is covered with large marble slabs of dazzling brilliancy. On the side next the reservoir, a substantial marble balustrade, three feet in height, gives a finish to this Cyclopean undertaking. 8. A tall marble tablet indicates the date of its erection, or more probably of its repair or re-construction. From the date, 1211, it appears to have been built about forty-six years ago. It is called the Validay Bendt, and is said to have been built by the mother of the reigning sultan. It is furnished with a waste-gate ; and, at a short distance below, the water from the reservoir is carried across a ravine by a short aqueduct. 9. About two miles from this is another bendt, erected in 1163, which corresponds to the year 1*749. This is also a magnificent work, although inferior in size to the preceding. They both supply the aqueduct of Batchikeni, which, as has already been stated, furnishes the suburbs of Pera and Galata with water. Beyond Belgrade are other reservoirs. These supply Constantinople proper with water. LESSON XXIV. PROVERBS OF SOLOMON. BIBLE. 1. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge ; but fools despise wisdom and instruction. My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother : 102 COBB'S SPEAKER. For they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head ; and chains about thy neck. 2. My son, forget not my law ; but let thine heart keep my commandments : For length of days, and long life, and peace, shall they add to thee. Let not mercy and truth forsake thee ; bind them about thy neck ; write them upon the table of thine heart : So shalt thou find favor and good understanding in the sight of God and man. 3. Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding : For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of sil- ver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies ; and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of days is in her right hand ; and in her left hand riches and honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. 4. A wise son maketh a glad father ; but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother. Hear, ye children, the instruction of a father ; and attend to know understanding. Wisdom is the principal thing ; therefore get wisdom ; and with all thy getting, get understanding. Take fast hold of instruction ; let her not go ; keep her ; for she is thy life. The memory of the just is blessed ; but the name of the wicked shall rot. 5. Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away : For they sleep not, except they have done mischief; and their sleep is taken away, unless they cause some to fall : For they eat the bread of wickedness, and drink the wine of violence. COBB'S SPEAKEK. 103 But the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. The way of the wicked is as darkness ; they know not at what they stumble. 6. He becometh poor that dealeth with a slack hand ; but the hand of the diligent maketh rich. He that walketh uprightly walketh surely ; but he that per- verteth his ways shall be known. The tongue of the just is as choice silver : the heart of the wicked is little worth. The blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich, and he addeth no sor- row with it. 1. It is as sport to a fool to do mischief. The fear of the wicked, it shall come upon him ; but the desire of the righteous shall be granted. When pride cometh, then cometh shame ; but with the lowly is wisdom. When a wicked man dieth, his expectation shall perish ; and the hope of unjust men perisheth. A tale-bearer revealeth secrets ; but he that is of a faithful spirit concealeth the matter. 8. The merciful man doeth good to his own soul ; but he that is cruel troubleth his own flesh. Where no counsel is, the people fall ; but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety. As a jewel of gold in a swine's snout, so is a fair woman which is without discretion. The liberal soul shall be made fat ; and he that watereth shall be watered also himself. 9. A wise son heareth his father's instructions ; but a scorner beareth not rebuke. Whoso loveth instruction loveth knowledge ; but he that hateth reproof is brutish. A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband ; but she that maketh ashamed is as rottenness in his bones. 104 COBB'S SPEAKER. The wicked are overthrown, and are not ; but the house of the righteous shall stand. He that tilleth his land shall be satisfied with bread; but he that followeth vain persons is void of understanding. 10. A fool's wrath is presently known ; but a prudent man cov- ereth shame. Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord ; but they that deal truly are his delight. The hand of the diligent shall bear rule; but the slothful shall be under tribute. The righteous is more excellent than his neighbor ; but the way of the wicked seduceth them. 11. Wealth gotten by vanity shall be diminished; but he that gathereth by labor shall increase. Hope deferred maketh the heart sick; but when the desire com- eth, it is a tree of life. Poverty and shame shall be to him that refuseth instruction; but lie that regardetb reproof shall be honored. A good man Icaveth an inheritance to his children's children; and the wealth of the sinner is (aid up for the just 12. He that spareth his rod hateth his son ; but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes. There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.' A wise man feareth, and departeth from evil ; but the fool rageth, and is confident. He that is soon angry dealeth foolishly ; and a man of wicked devices is hated. The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life. 13. He that despiseth his neighbor sinneth; but he that hath mercy on the poor, happy is he. The wicked is driven away in his wickedness ; but the righteous hath hope in his death. Righteousness exalteth a nation ; but sin is a reproach to any people. COBB'S SPEAKER. 105 The crown of the wise is their riches ; but the foolishness of fools is folly. The backslider in heart shall be filled in his own ways. LESSON XXV. EARLY GENIUS. WILLIAM LEGGETT. 1. It has often been remarked of those who give very early manifestations of genius, that they fall into early decay ; and, like the first flowers of spring, that they bloom but a little while, before they are withered by the frosts of disappointment, or beaten to the earth by the storms of misfortune. 2. Shakspeare, the confidant of nature, has evinced his knowl- edge of this fact, in that line of Richard, where the tyrant is made to mutter, " So wise, so young, they say do ne'er live long ;" and an accurate observer, much older than he, Sophocles, a Greek writer, has remarked that mischances always attend on early genius. 3. The mind, indeed, in this respect may be compared to the earth : late springs produce from both the most abundant harvests ; and in both, the seeds which germinate into premature fecundity, being exposed to winds and frosts while the principle of life is weak within them, but seldom arrive at a strong and healthful state of existence. 4. Yet it may reasonably be doubted, notwithstanding the number of instances of untimely death which has befallen those who became early celebrated for their genius, whether the preco- cious ripening of the faculties of the mind necessarily presage brevity of life ; or whether, in the cases that could be mentioned, the fatality has not been the result of an ardor of application to scholastic pursuits, too severe and unremitted for the body to sustain. 5. The beautiful lines addressed by Lord Byron to the memory of Kirke White, might be applied, it is to be feared, with equal 106 COBB'S SPEAKER. justice to many a promising genius, who, with suicidal sedulous- ness, wastes his life in the silence of midnight research, and fails to attain the goal of his wishes, by setting out with a rapidity that can not be maintained. 6. But the number of those who have sunk into untimely graves after exhibiting precocious evidences of intellectual vigor, bean no proportion to the many who continue to live undistinguished from the mass of their fellow-men ; of those who, in their outset, having shorn off a few mental bounding*, and curetting*, which denoted speed and agility, slacken, for the rest of their journey, into the ordinary pace of ordinary minds. V. It is too often the case that the applause which is bestowed on the efforts of juvenile intellect, diminishes that diligence by which alone applause can continue to be deserved; and that he who has performed more than was expected, will be induced to pause and banquet on the honor thus acquired, until he is passed on the road, by the steady perseverance of slower understandings. 8. They whom facility of acquisition renders confident of their abilities, naturally fall into negligence, thinking that they can at any time atone, by the rapidity of their progress, for the length and frequency of their delays. But it is easier to relax from in- dustry to idleness, than to return from sloth to activity ; and when attention has been lulled by flattery, or dissipated by pleasure, it is difficult to renew its energies, collect again the stores of thought which have been scattered, and awaken curiosity from its trance, to re-engage in literary pursuits. 9. Permanent applause is the reward of unconditional great- ness ; but that praise which is bestowed on early genius has refer- ence to the circumstances by which it is surrounded, and will not be continued, unless its efforts increase with ijs years. Con- tinual assiduity is necessary to continual excellence ; fame, like fortune, must be vigorously pursued ; but he who pauses in his career to snatch her wreath, will find it turn, like fairy money, to dust and rubbish in his grasp. COBB'S SPEAKER. 107 LESSON XXVI. ASPIRATIONS OF YOUTH. MONTGOMERY. 1. Higher, higher will we climb Up the mount of glory, That our names may live through time In our country's story ; Happy, when her welfare calls, He who conquers, he who falls. 2. Deeper, deeper let us toil In the mines of knowledge ; Nature's wealth and Learning's spoil Win from school and college ; Delve we there for richer gems Than the stars of diadems. 3. Onward, onward may we press Through the path of duty ; Virtue is true happiness, Excellence true beauty ; Minds are of celestial birth, Make we then a heaven of earth. 4. Closer, closer let us knit Hearts and hands together, Where our fireside comforts sit In the wildest weather ; Oh, they wander wide who roam For the joys of life from home ! 108 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON XXVII. MATERNAL WISDOM. H. N. HUDSON. 1. If there be any power on earth that i- truly divine, it is in the maternal wisdom and prudence which give to tin* world a truly noble and exalted character. And if spiritual heroes be our great- est bles-inu-, assuredly they are our best and truest benefactors who provide them for us. He who controls the physical resources of a nation, has indeed the power to make us prouder and wealth- ier, to awe and astonish us by tin- visible and tangible magnitude of his operations ; hut he has not the power to make Ufl Wl» r or better, or to build up within us the force and magnanimity of bouI which form the true palladium of a nation's prosperity. 2. Napoleon, with the men and means of France at his n . ]. could make all Europe but the chess-board of his ambition, and hang her nations as bo many jewels in his imperial crown; hut it belonged to an humble lady of Virginia to perform a mankind, which Napoleon was as far below performing as he f»-lt above attempting. Doul all know, and < rod forbid we should ever forget, what Washington achieved for us; but scarce any of us know or care to know the meek and unobtrusive being who achieved for us Washington himself. 3. The truth is, the finer and choicer productions of human agen- cy, do not, and can not, receive their growth in the wider but grosser sphere of physical activity. To form and fashion a noble char- acter, and to educate it into the freedom of truth and virtue, is a higher and deeper exercise of power, than to develop the physical resources and secure the outward freedom of a nation. It is not the power which acts upon us, but the power which acts within us, that truly moves the world. " Peace hath her victories no less re- nowned than war." The greatest of human achievements are the silent and invisible work of fireside influence ; for genuine wisdom and worth, the highest and mightiest results of human effort, must perforce grow up unheard and unseen in the residence of infant spirits, COBB'S SPEAKER. 109 4. The abode of genuine power, therefore, is in the nursery of human souls ; and the light of maternal instruction is the true light which light eth almost every great and good man that cometh into the world. Nature is undoubtedly the chief agent in the produc- tion of great and good men ; the germes and first principles of ex- alted character must of course come from the divine source of all beauty and excellence : but next to nature stands the being whose task and duty it is to breathe into these germes the breath of life, and to unfold the heavenly riches slumberino- in their bosoms. As- suredly, if genuine creative might be lodged any where on earth, it is in the garden of spiritual vegetation ; and the most sacred office and divinest prerogative of humanity belong to those whom nature herself elects to the motherhood of human souls. 5. Such, then, is the sphere, and such the task, which nature hath assigned to woman ; a sphere which none but she can fill, a task which none but she can perform : and if many have had a pride that disdained them, none, assuredly, have had a wisdom above them. And perhaps the world does not afford a more dis- oTistino; and distressing sio-ht than to see her whom Heaven has gifted and consecrated for this divine art, degrading herself into a mere material hodman, and only carrying mortar to build and plaster up the frail and fleeting tenements of the souls intrusted to her charge. Most truly, indeed, may we say, in reference to these things, that u wisdom is oft-times nearer when we stoop than when we soar ;" for it grows most plenteously and acts most efficiently where fireside affection sheds over the intellect the dews of a mild but genial inspiration. It were doubtless well for us all, of what- ever sex, to know and feel that we are never, while on earth, so near heaven, as when we are at home. 6. The noblest efforts and highest achievements of the mind must transpire on the consecrated spot which collects and concen- trates the rays of the heart. It is while laboring here, therefore, that the greatest blessings come to us,- and the greatest blessings go from us. The gods, it has been beautifully said, approve the depths and not the tumults of the soul. It is under the soft, sweet guardianship of a peace which public breath can neither give nor 110 COBB'S SPEAKER. take away, that wisdom most delights to tix her abode; and it is upon those whose minds as well as hearts are " true to the kindred points of heaven and home, v that there comes ■ the gleam, The light that never was on Bea or land, The consecration and the heavenly dream." LESSON XXVIII. TRAITS OF INDIAN CHARACTER. IRVING. 1. There is something in the character and habits of the North American savage, taken in connexion with the scenery over which he is accustomed to range, its vast lakes, boundle^ majes- tic rivers, and trackless plains, that is, to my mind, wonderfully striking and sublime. He is formed for the wilderness, as the Arab is for the desert. His nature is stern, simple, and enduring ; fitted to grapple with difficulties, and to support privations. 2. There seems but little soil in his heart for the growth of the kindly virtues ; and yet, if we would but take the trouble to pene- trate through that proud stoicism and habitual taciturnity which lock up his character from casual observation, we should find him linked to his fellow-man of civilized life by more of those sym- pathies and affections than are usually ascribed to him. 3. It was the lot of the unfortunate aborigines of America, in the early periods of colonization, to be doubly wronged by the white men. They have been dispossessed of their hereditary pos- sessions by mercenary and frequently wanton warfare ; and their characters have been traduced by bigoted and interested writers. 4. The colonist has often treated them like beasts of the forest ; and the author has endeavored to justify him in his outrages. The former found it easier to exterminate than to civilize ; the latter, to vilify than to discriminate. The appellations of savage and pagan, were deemed sufficient to sanction the hostilities of both ; and thus the poor wanderers of the forest were persecuted COBB'S SPEAKER. Ill and detained, not because they were guilty, but because they were ignorant. 5. The rights of the savage have seldom been properly appre- ciated or respected by the white man. In peace, he has too often been the dupe of artful traffic ; in war he has been regarded as a ferocious animal, whose life or death was a question of mere pre- caution or convenience. Man is cruelly wasteful of life when his own safety is endangered, and he is sheltered by impunity ; and little mercy is to be expected from him when he feels the sting of the reptile, and is conscious of the power to destroy. 6. The same prejudices which were indulged thus early, exist in common circulation, at the present day. Certain learned socie- ties, it is true, have endeavored, with laudable diligence, to investi- gate and record the real characters and manners of the Indian tribes. The American government, too, has wisely and humanely exerted itself to inculcate a friendly and forbearing spirit towards them, and to protect them from fraud and injustice. 7. The current opinion of the Indian character, however, is too apt to be formed from the miserable hordes which infest the frontiers, and hang on the skirts of the settlements. These are too com- monly composed of degenerate beings, corrupted and enfeebled by the vices of society, without being benefited by its civilization. That proud independence which formed the main pillar of savage virtue, has been shaken down, and the whole moral fabric lies in ruins. Their spirits are humiliated and debased by a sense of in- feriority, and their native courage cowed and daunted by the superior knowledge and power of their enlightened neighbors. S. Society has advanced upon them like one of those withering airs that will sometimes breathe desolation over a whole region of fertility. It has enervated their strength, multiplied their diseases, and superinduced upon then* original barbarity the low vices of artificial life. It has given them a thousand superfluous wants, while it has diminished their means of mere existence. It has driven before it the animals of the chase, which fly from the sound of the axe, and the smoke of the settlement, and seek refuge in the depths of remoter forests and yet untrodden wilds. 112 COBB'S SPEAKER. 9. Thus do we too often find the Indians on our frontiers to be the mere wrecks and remnants of once powerful tribes, who have lingered in the vicinity of the settlements, and sunk into precari- ous and vagabond existence Poverty, refining and hopeless poverty, a canker of the mind, unknown in savage We, corrodes their spirits, and blights every free and noble quality of their natures. They become drunken, indolent, feeble, thievish, and pusillanimous. 10. They loiter, like vagrants, about the settlements, among spacious dwellings replete with elaborate comforts, which only render them sensible of the comparative wretchedness of their own condition. Luxury spreads its ample board before their eyes; but they are excluded from the banquet. Plenty revels over the fields ; but they are starring in the midst of its abundance: the whole wilderness has blossomed into a garden; but they t' el aa reptiles that infest it. 11 How different was their state, while yet the undisputed Lids of the soil ! Their wants were few, and the means of grati- fication within their reach. They saw every one around them sharing the same lot, enduring the same hardships, feeding on the same aliments, arrayed in the same rude garments 12. No roof then rose but it was open to the homeless stranger; no smoke curled among the trees, but he was welcomed to sit down by its fire, and join the hunter in his repast. " For," says an old historian of New England, " their life is so void of care, and they are so loving also, that they make use of those they enjoy as common goods, and are therein so compassionate, that rather than one should starve through want, they would starve all : thus do they pass their time merrily, not regarding our pomp, but are bet- ter content with their own, which some men esteem so meanly of/' 13. Such were the Indians, while in the pride and energy of their primitive natures. They resemble those wild plants which thrive best in the shades of the forests, but shrink from the hand of cultivation, and perish beneath the influence of the sun. 14. In discussing the savage character, writers have been too prone to indulge in vulgar prejudice and passionate exaggeration, COBB'S SPEAKEK. 113 instead of the candid temper of true philosophy. They have not sufficiently considered the peculiar circumstances in which the Indians have been placed, and the peculiar principles under which they have been educated. No being acts more rigidly from rule than the Indian. His whole conduct is regulated according to some general maxims early implanted in his mind. The moral laws that govern him, are, to be sure, but few ; but then, he con- forms to them all ; the white man abounds in laws of religion, morals, and manners ; but how many does he violate ! 15. A frequent ground of accusation against the Indians, is their disregard of treaties, and the treachery and wantonness with which, in time of apparent peace, they will suddenly fly to hostili- ties. The intercourse of the white men with the Indians, however, is too apt to be cold, distrustful, oppressive, and insulting. They seldom treat them with that confidence and frankness which are indispensable to real friendship ; nor is sufficient caution observed not to offend against those feelings of pride or superstition, which often prompt the Indian to hostility quicker than mere considera- tions of interest. 16. The solitary savage feels silently, but acutely. His sensi- bilities are not diffused over so wide a surface as those of the white man ; but they run in steadier and deeper channels. His pride, his affections, his superstitions, are all directed towards fewer objects; but the wounds inflicted on them, are proportionably severe, and furnish motives of hostility which we can not suffi- ciently appreciate. 1*7. Where a community is also limited in number, and forms one great patriarchal family, as in an Indian tribe, the injury of an individual, is the injury of the whole ; and the sentiment of ven- geance is almost instantaneously diffused. One council-fibre is sufficient for the discussion and arrangement of a plan of hostili- ties. Here, here all the fighting men and sages assemble. Elo- quence and superstition combine to influence the minds of the warriors. The orator awakens their martial ardor, and they are wrought up to a kind of religious desperation by the visions of the prophet and the dreamer. 114 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON XXIX. HOME FOR THE FRIENDLESS. N. P. Willis. [Composed for and sung at the dedication of the " Home for the Friend- less," 80th Street, New York, Dec. 1849.] 1. When God, to shield from cold and storm, Grave trees to build and fire to warm, He did not mark for each his part, But gave to each a human heart. 2. Each heart is told the poor to aid; Not told as thunder makes afraid ; But, by a Muall voice, whisp'ring there: Find thou, for God, the sufferer s share! 8. Oh, prompting faint, t<> careless tiew, For work that angels well might dol But wisely, thus, is taught below, Quick pity for another's wo. 4. The world is stored ; enough for all Is scattered wide, 'tween hut and hall; And those who feast, or friendless roam, Alike from God receive a home. 5. Each houseless one demands of thee : Can aught thou hast the poor man's be ? And Pity breathes response divine : Take what I have from God, that's thine. 6. For child ; for woman's fragile form. More harsh the cold, more wild the storm ; But most they bless a shelt'ring door, Whom dark temptations urge no more ! 7. A Home for these, oh God, to-day, For blessing at thy feet we lay ! And, may its shelter, humbly given, Be but a far-off door to Heaven. COBB'S SPEAKER. 115 LESSON XXX. THE SALT-MINES OF EUROPE. HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 1. The salt-mines of Cheshire, and the brine-pits of Worcester- shire, according to the best authority, not only supply salt sufficient for the consumption of nearly the whole of England, but also up- wards of half a million of tuns for exportation. Rock-salt is by no means confined to England ; it is found in many countries, especially where strata of more recent date than those of the coal measures abound. Though in some instances the mineral is pure and sparkling in its native state, it is generally dull and dirty, owing to the matter with which it is associated. 2. The ordinary shade is a dull red, from being in contact with marls, of that color. But notwithstanding, it possesses many in- teresting features. When the extensive subterranean halls have been lighted up with innumerable candles, the appearance is most interesting, and the visiter, enchanted with the scene, feels himself richly repaid for the trouble he may have incurred in visiting the excavations. 3. The Cheshire mines are from 50 to 150 yards below the surface. The number of salt-beds is five ; the thinnest of them being only about six inches, while the thickest is nearly forty feet. Besides these vast masses, there is a large quantity of salt mixed up with the marl-beds that intervene. The method of working the rock-salt is like that adopted for the excavation of coal ; but it is much more safe and pleasant to visit these than the other, owing to the roof of the excavations being much more secure, and the absence of all noxious gases, with the exception of carbonic acid gas. 4. In the thinner coal-seams, the roof, or rock lying above the coal, is supported by wooden pillars as the mineral is withdrawn ; while, in the thicker seams, pillars of coal are left at intervals to support the superincumbent mass. The latter is the plan adopted in the salt-mines. Large pillars of various dimensions are left to support the roof at irregular intervals ; but these bear a small pro- 116 COBB'S SPEAKER. portion to the mass of mineral excavated. The efieot is most picturesque; in the deep gloom of the excavation, the pillars pre- test tangible objects on which the eye can rest, while the Inter- vening spaces stretch away into night. 5. The mineral is loosened from the rock by blasting, and the effect of the explosions, heard from time t > time re-echoing through the wide spaces, and from tin- distant walls of rock, gives a pecu- liar grandeur and unpressivenesf t<> the scene. Hie great charm, indeed, on the occasion of a \i-it to these mines, even when they are illuminated by thousands of lights, is chiefly owing to the gloomy and cavernous appearance, the dim endless perspective, broken by the numerous pillars, and the lights half disclosing and half concealing the deep recesses which are formed and terminated by these monstrous and --lid projections, G. The pillars, owing to the great height of the roof, are very massive. For twenty feel of rock they are about fifteen feet thick. Th.- descent to the mines i- by a shaft; a perpendicular opening of six, eight, or ten feel Bquare; this opening is used for th" gen- eral' purposes of ventilation, drainage, lifting the mineral, a- weD as the miners. It varies in dimensions according t<> the extent of tie- excavations. In some of the English mines the part of the 1-r 1 of rock-salt excavated amounts to several acres; but in some parts of Europe the workings are even more extensive 7. The Wilton mine, one of the largest in England, is worked 330 feet below the surface, and from it, and one or two adjacent mines, upwards of GO, 000 tuns of salt are annually obtained, two- thirds of which are immediately exported, and the rest is dissolved in water, and afterward reduced to a crystalline state by evapo- rating the solution. It is not yet two hundred years since the Cheshire mines were discovered. 8. In the year 1670, before men were guided by science in their investigations, an attempt was made to find coal in the district. The sinking was unsuccessful relative to the one mineral, but the disappointment and loss were amply met by the discovery of the other. From that time till the present, the rock-salt has been dug, and, as we have seen, most extensively used in England, while the COBB'S SPEAKER. 117 surplus supply has become an article of exportation. Previous to this discovery the consumption was chiefly supplied from the brine- pits of Worcestershire. 9. There is a remarkable deposite of salt in the valley of Car- dona, in the Pyrenees. Two thick masses of rock-salt, says Ansted, apparently united at their bases, make their appearance on one of the slopes of the hill of Cardona. One of the beds, or rather mass- es, has been worked, and measures about 130 yards by 250 ; but its depth has not been determined. It consists of salt in a lami- nated condition, and with confused crystallization. 10. That part which is exposed, is composed of eight beds, near- ly horizontal, having a total thickness of fifteen feet ; but the beds are separated from one another by red and variegated marls and gypsum. The second mass, not worked, appears to be unstratined, but in other respects resembles the former ; and this portion, where it has been exposed to the action of the weather, is steeply scarped, and bristles with needle-like points, so that its appearance has been compared to that of a glacier. 11. There is also an extensive salt-mine at Wieliczka, in Poland, and the manner of working it was accurately described some years since. The manner of descending into the mine was by means of a large cord wound around a wheel and worked by a horse. The visiter, seated on a small piece of wood placed in the loop of the cord, and grasping the cord with both hands, was let down two hundred feet, the depth of the first galleries, through a shaft about eight feet square, sunk through beds of sand, alternating with lime- stone, gypsum, variegated marls, and calcareous schists. 12. Below the stage, the descent was by wooden staircases, nine or ten feet wide. In the first gallery was a chapel, measuring thirty feet in length by twenty-four in breadth, and eighteen in height ; every part of it, the floor, the roof, the columns which sustained the roof, the altar, the crucifix, and several statues, were all cut out of the solid salt ; the chapel was for the use of the miners. It had always been said that the salt in this mine had the qualities which produced magic appearances to an uncommon cle- 118 COBB'S SPEAKER. gree ; but it is now ascertained that its scenery b not mora enchanting than that of the mines in Cheshire. 13. Gunpowder is now used in the Polish as in the English mines ; but the manner of obtaining the salt, at the time of the visit we are recording, was peculiar, and too ingenious t<> !»•• passed over, even though it be now superseded by tin- more modem and more successful mode of blasting. 14. "In the first place, the over-man, or head niin<-r, marked the length, breadth, and thickness of a block lie wished to be de- tached, the size of which was generally the sam<-, namely, about eight feet long, four feet wide, and two feet thick. A certain number of blocks being marked, the workman began by boring a succession of holes on one side from top to bottom of the block, the holes being three inches deep, and six inches apart. 15. An horizontal groove was then cut, half an inch deep, both above and below; and, having put into each of the holes an iron wedge, all the wedges were struck with moderate blows, to drive them into the mass ; the blows were continued until two cracks appeared, one in the direction of the line of the holes, and the other along the upper horizontal line. 16. The block was now loosened and ready to fall, and the workman introduced into the crack produced by the driving of the wedges a wooden ruler, two or three inches broad, and, moving it backward and forward on the crack, a tearing sound was soon heard, which announced the completion of the work. 17. If proper care had been taken, the block fell unbroken, and Avas then divided into three or four parts, which were shaped into cylinders for the greater convenience of transport. Each workman was able to work out four such blocks every day, and the whole number of persons employed in the mine, varied from twelve hundred to about two thousand." The mine was worked in galler- ies ; and, at the time of this visit, these galleries extended to at least eight English miles. Since then the excavations have become much more extensive. 18. The method of preparing rock-salt is very simple, and differs little from that employed in manufacturing salt from springs. COBB'S speaker. 119 The first step in the process is, to obtain a proper strength of brine, by saturating fresh water with the salt brought from the mine. The brine obtained in a clear state is put into evaporating pans, and brought as quickly as possible to a boiling heat, when a skin is formed on the surface, consisting chiefly of impurities. 19. This skin is taken off, so also are the first crystals that are formed, and are thrown aside as useless, or used for agricultural purposes. The heat is kept at the boiling point for eight hours, during which period evaporation is going on ; the liquid becoming gradually reduced, and the salt meanwhile is being deposited. When this part of the process is finished, the salt is raked out, put into moulds, and placed in a drying stove, where it is dried per- fectly, and made ready for the market. LESSON XXXI. SPEAK BOLDLY. BY WM. OLAND BOURNE. 1. Speak boldly, Freeman ! while to-day The strife is rising fierce and high, Gird on the armor while ye may In holy deeds to win or die ; The Age is Truth's wide battle-field, The Day is struggling with the Night, For Freedom hath again revealed A Marathon of holy right. 2. Speak boldly, Hero! while the foe Treads onward with his iron heel ; Strike steady with a giant blow, And flash aloft the polished steel ; Be true, Hero ! to thy trust ! Man and thy God both look to thee ! Be true, or sink away to dust ; Be true, or hence to darkness flee. «» 120 COBB'S SPEAKER. 3. Speak boldly, Prophet! Let the fire Of Heaven come down on altars cursed, Where Baa] priests and seers conspire To pay their bloody homage first; Be true, Prophel I Let thy tongue SjM.-ik fearless, for the words are thine; Words that by morning stars were sung, And angels hymned in strains divine. 4. Speak boldly, Poet! Let thy pen Be nerved with fare that may not die; Speak f<>r the rights of bleeding men Who look to Heaven with tearful eye. lie true, Poet! Let thy name Be honored where the weak have trod, And in the summit of thy fame, Be true to Man ! Be true to God ! 5. Speak boldly, Brothers ! Wake, and come ! The Anakini are pn-sing on! In Freedom's strife he never dumb! Gird flashing blade- till all is won! Be true, O Brothers ! Truth is strong! Tin- foe shall sink beneath the sod ; While love and bliss shall thrill the song That Truth to Man is Truth to God. LESSON XXXII. MOUNT ETNA. CLARKE'S WONDERS OF THE WORLD. 1. This single mountain contains an epitome of the different climates throughout the w T orld, presenting at once all the seasons of the year, and all the varieties of produce. It is divided into three distinct zones or regions, which are known by the names of the COBB'S SPEAKER. 121 cultivated region, the woody or temperate region, and the frigid or desert region. The former of these extends through twelve miles of the ascent towards the summit, and is almost incredibly abundant in pastures and fruit-trees of every description. 2. It is covered with towns, villages, and monasteries ; and the number of inhabitants distributed over its surface is estimated at 120,000. In ascending to the woody or temperate region, the scene changes ; it is a new climate, a new creation. Below, the heat is suffocating ; but here the air is mild and fresh. The turf is covered with aromatic plants ; and gulfs, which formerly ejected torrents of fire, are changed into woody valleys. The last, or des- ert region, commences more than a mile above the level of the sea. The lower part is covered with snow in winter only ; but on the upper half of this steril district the snow constantly lies : — 3. " Sometimes the pencil, in cool airy halls, Bade the gay bloom of vernal landscapes rise, Or Autumn's varied shades imbrown the walls : Now the black tempest strikes the astonished eyes, Now down the steep the flashing torrent flies ; The trembling sun now plays o'er ocean blue, And now rude mountains frown amid the skies ; Whatever Lorraine light-touched with softening hue, Or savage Rosa dashed, or learned Poussin drew." THOMSON. 4. On the vastness and beauty of the prospect from the summit of Etna, all authors agree. M. Houel was stationed there at sun- rise, when the horizon was clear, and without a single cloud. The coast of Calabria was, he says, undistinguishable from the adjoining sea; but in a short time a fiery radiance began to appear from behind those Italian hills which bounded the eastern part of the prospect. The fleecy clouds, which generally appear early in the morning, were tinged with purple : the atmosphere became strong- ly illuminated, and, reflecting the rays of the sun, seemed to be filled with a bright refulgence of flame. 5. Although the heavens were thus enlightened, the -sea still 6 122 COBB'S SPEAKER. retained its dark azure, and the fields and forests did not yet re- flect the rays of the sun. The gradual rising of this luminarv, however, soon diffused light over the hills which lit- below the peak of Etna. This last stood Like an island in the midst of the ocean, with luminous points multiplying every moment around, and spreading over a wider extent with the greatest rapidity. 6. It was. said he, as if the world had been observed suddenly to spring from the night of non-existence. The most sublime ob- ject, however, which the summit of Etna presents, is the unmCOM mass of its own colossal body. h> upper region exhibits rough and craggy cliff-, rising perpendicularly, fearful to the view, and surrounded by an assemblage of fugitive clouds, to increase the wild variety of the scene. 7. Amidst the multitude of woods in the middle or temperate region are numerous mountains, which, in any other situation, would appear of a gigantic size, but which, compared to Etna, are mere, molehills. Lastly, the eye contemplates with admiration the lower region, the most extensive of the three, adorned with ele- gant villas and castles, verdant hills and flowery fields, and ter- minated by the extensive coast, where, to the south, stands the beautiful city of Catania, to which the waves of the neighboring sea serve as a mirror. LESSON XXXIII. THE QUANTITY OF MATTER IN THE UNIVERSE. DICK. 1. The earth is a globe about 8000 miles in diameter, and 25,000 in circumference ; and, consequently, its surface contains nearly two hundred millions of square miles ; a magnitude too great for the mind to take in at one conception. In order to form a tolerable conception of the whole, we must endeavor to take a leisurely survey of its different parts. 2. Were we to take our station on the top of a mountain of a moderate size, we should perceive an extent of view stretching 40 COBB'S SPEAKER. 123 miles in every direction, forming a circle 80 miles in diameter, and 250 in circumference, and comprehending an area of 5000 square miles. In such a situation, the scene around us, consisting of hills and plains, towns and villages, rivers and lakes, would form one of the largest objects which the eye, or even the imagination, can steadily grasp at one time. 3. But such an object, grand and extensive as it is, forms no more than the forty-thousandth part of the terraqueous globe ; so that, before we can acquire an adequate conception of the magni- tude of the world, we must conceive 40,000 landscapes of a similar extent to pass in review before us; and, were a scene of equal magnitude to pass before us every hour, and were twelve hours each day allotted for the observation, it would require 9 years and 48 days before the whole surface of the globe could be contem- plated, even in this general and rapid manner. 4. These remarks apply to the earth as a mere superficies. But the earth is a solid globe ; and its solid contents are no less than 259,332,805,350 cubical miles ; a mass of material sub- stance, in proportion to which, all the lofty mountains which rise above its surface are less than a few grains of sand, when com- pared with the largest artificial globe. Were the earth a hollow sphere, surrounded merely with an external shell, ten miles thick, its internal cavity would be sufficient to contain a quantity of materials one hundred and thirty-three times greater than the whole mass of continents, islands, and oceans on its surface, and the foundations on which they are supported. 5. We have the strongest reasons, however, to conclude, that the earth, though not a solid mass from the surface to the centre, has, at least, a solid exterior crust of two or three hundred miles in thickness. What an enormous mass of materials, then, is com- prehended within the limits of that globe on which we tread! How great must be the power of that Being who commanded it to spring from nothing into existence, who " measures the ocean in the hollow of his hand, who weigheth the mountains in scales, and hangeth the earth upon nothing !" 6. When we contemplate, by the light of science, those mag- 124 COBB'S SPEAKER. nificent globes which float in the concave of the sky, the earth, with all its sublime scenery, stupendous a- it is, dwindles into an inconsiderable ball. It' we pass from our globe t<> some of the other bodies of the planetary system, we shall find, that one of these stupendous orbs is more than 900 times tin- size of our world, and encircled with a ring which would nearly reach from the earth to the moon ; and that another is of such a >iz<-, that it would require 1500 globes of the bulk <»t* the earth to form one equal to it in dimensions. 7. The whole of the bodies which compose the solar system, (without taking tin- bud and the comets into account,) contain a mass of matter, about 2500 times greater than that of the earth. The sun himself is 520 times larger than all the planetary globes taken together; and one million three hundred thousand times larger than the terraqueous globe. 8. If we extend our views from the solar system to the starry heavens, we have to penetrate, in our imagination, a space which the swiftest ball that was ever projected, though in perpetual motion, would not traverse in ten hundred thousand year*. In those trackless regions of immensity we behold an assemblage of resplendent globes similar to the sun in size and in glory, and, doubtless, accompanied with a retinue of worlds, revolving, like our own, around their attractive influence. 9. The immense distance at which the nearest stars are known to be placed, proves that they are bodies of a prodigious size, not inferior to our own sun, and that they shine, not by reflected rays, but by their ow r n native light. But bodies encircled by such re- fulgent splendor, would be of little use in the economy of Jehovah's empire, unless surrounding worlds were cheered by their benign influence. Every star is, therefore, concluded to be a sun, no less spacious than ours, surrounded by a host of planetary globes, which revolve around it as a centre, and derive from it light, and heat, and comfort. 10. Nearly a thousand of these luminaries may be seen in a clear winter night by the naked eye ; so that a mass of matter equal to a thousand solar systems, or to thirteen hundred and COBB'S SPEAKER. 125 twenty millions of globes of the size of the earth, maybe perceived, by every common observer, in the canopy of heaven. But all the celestial orbs, which are perceived by the unassisted sight, do not form the eighty-thousandth part of those which may be descried by the help of optical instruments. 11. Dr. Herschell has informed us that, when exploring the most crowded parts of the milky-way, with his best glasses, he has had fields of view which contained no less than 588 stars, and these too continued for many minutes ; so that " in one quarter of an hour's time, there passed no less than one hundred and six- teen thousand stars through the field of view of his telescope !" 12. It has been computed, that nearly one hundred millions of stars might be perceived by perfect instruments, were all the regions of the sky thoroughly explored. And yet all this vast assemblage of suns and worlds, when compared with what lies beyond the utmost boundaries of human vision, in the immeasura- ble spaces of creation, may be no more than the smallest particle of vapor to the immense ocean. 13. Here, then, with reverence, let us pause, and wonder ! Over all this vast assemblage of material existence God presides. Amidst the diversified objects and intelligences it contains, he is eternally and essentially present. At his Almighty fiat it emerged from nothing into existence ; and, by his unerring wisdom all its complicated movements are perpetually directed. Surely that man is little to be envied who is not impressed by such contem- plations, with a venerable and overwhelming sense of Creative Power. LESSOR XXXIV. CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF THE WESTERN INDIANS. GEORGE CATLIN. 1. Impressions of the most vivid kind, are rapidly and indeli- bly made by the fleeting incidents of savage life ; and, for the mind that can contemplate them with pleasure, they afford abun- 126 COBB'S SPEAKER. dant materials for its entertainment The mind susceptible of such impressions, catches volumes of incidents which are easy to mite; it is but to unfold a web which the fascinations of this country and its allurements have spun over the soul: it is but to paint the splendid panorama of a world entirely different from any thin_ or painted before, with its thousands of miles, and tens of thousands of grassy hills and dales, where naught but silence reigns, and where the soul of a contemplative mould is seemingly lifted up to its Creator. 2. What man ever ascended to the pinnacle of one of Missouri's green-carpeted hlutl's, a thousand mile.-, severed from his own fa- miliar land, and giddily gazed over the interminable and boundless ocean of grass-covered hills and valleys which lie beneath him, where the gloom of silence is complete ; where not even the voice of the sparrow or cricket is heard ; without feeling a sweet melan- choly come over him, which seemed to drown his sense of every thing beneath him ? 3. In traversing the immense region of the classic West, the mind of a philanthropist is filled with feelings of admiration. But to reach this country, one is obliged to descend from the light and glow of civilized atmosphere, through the different grades of civil- ization, which gradually sink to the most deplorable condition along the extreme frontier ; thence through the most pitiable mis- ery and wretchedness of savage degradation, where the genius of natural liberty and independence has been blasted and destroyed by the contaminating vices and dissipations, introduced by the immoral part of civilized society. 4. Through this dark and sunken vale of wretchedness, one hurries, as through a pestilence, until he gradually rises again into the proud and chivalrous pale of savage society, in its state of origi- nal nature, beyond the reach of civilized, contamination. Here he finds much, upon which to fix his enthusiasm, and much to admire. Even here the predominant passions of the savage breast, of fero- city and cruelty, are often found ; yet restrained and frequently subdued by the noblest traits of honor and magnanimity. 5. Here exists a race of men who live and enjoy life and its COBB'S SPEAKER. . 127 luxuries, and practise its virtues, very far beyond the usual estima- tion of the world, who are apt to judge the savage and his virtues, from the poor, degraded, and humble specimens which alone can be seen along our frontiers. From the first settlements of our At- lantic coast to the present day, the bane of this blasting frontier has regularly crowded upon them, from the northern to the south- ern extremities of our country ; and, like the fire in a prairie, which destroys everything where it passes, it has blasted and sunk them, all but their names, into oblivion, wherever it has travelled. 6. It is to this tainted class alone that the epithet of " poor, naked, and drunken savage," can be, with propriety, applied ; for, all those numerous tribes which I have visited, and are yet uncor- rupted by the vices of civilized acquaintance, are well clad, in many instances cleanly, and in the full enjoyment of life and its luxuries. It is a sad and melancholy truth to contemplate, that all the numer- ous tribes who inhabited our vast Atlantic States, have not " fled to the West ;" that they are not to be found here ; that they have been blasted by the fire which has passed over them, have sunk into their graves, and every thing but their names travelled into oblivion. V. The distinctive character of all these Western Indians, as well as their traditions relative to their ancient locations, prove beyond a doubt, that they have been for a long time located on the soil which they now possess ; and, in most respects, distinct and unlike those nations who formerly inhabited the Atlantic coast, and who, according to the erroneous opinion of a great part of the world, have fled to- the West. 8. It is for these inoffensive and unoffending people, yet unvis- ited by the vices of civilized society, that I would proclaim to the world, that it is time, for the honor of our country ; for the honor of every citizen of the republic ; and for the sake of humanity, that our government should raise her strong arm to save the remainder of them from the pestilence which is rapidly advancing upon them. 9. My heart has sometimes almost bled with pity while among them, and witnessing their innocent amusements, as I have con- templated the inevitable bane that was rapidly advancing upon 128 COBB'S SPEAKER. them; without that check from the protecting arm of government, which alone can shield them from destruction. What degree of happiness these sons of Nature may attain to in the world, in their own way; or in w li.it proportion they may relish the pleasftn life, compared to the sum of happiness belonging to civilizi ciety, has long been a subject of much doubt, and one which 1 can not undertake to decide. 10. I have long locked with the eye of a critic, into the jovial faces of these sons of the forest, unrarrowed with cares; where the agonizing feeling of poverty had never stamped distress upon the brow. 1 have watched tie- bold, intrepid Btep, the proud, yet dig- nified deportment <>t' Nature's man, in fearless fro d -m, with a soul unalloyed by mercenary lusts, too great to yield to laws or power except from God. As these independent fellows are all joint-ten- ants of the -oil, they are all rich, and none of the steepill compara! their jusl claims to renown. 11. Y\'ho, I would ask, can I »ut admiring, into a . where virl th no laws, hut the laws of tonor, which are the supreme law of the land : T) :i-r h | for awhile, with all its intellectual refinements, to such •■ tribi nal, and then write down the degradation of the "lav'. !• ut virtu LESS OX XXXV. EXCELSIOR, OR THE YOUTHFUL ASPIRANT. LONGFELLOW. 1. The shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with this strange device, Excelsior ! COBB'S SPEAKER. 129 2. His brow was sad ; his eyes beneath Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior ! 3. In happy homes, he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright ; Above, the spectral glaciers shone, And from his lips escaped a groan, Excelsior ! 4. " Try not the Pass !" the old man said, " Dark lowers the tempest overhead ! The roaring torrent's deep and wide !" And loud that clarion voice replied, % Excelsior ! 5. " Beware the pine-tree's withered branch ! Beware the awful avalanche !" This was the peasant's last good night, A voice replied, far up the height, Excelsior ! 6. At break of day, as heavenward The pious monk of St. Bernard Uttered the oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air, Excelsior ! 7. A traveller, by the faithful hound, Half-buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! 6* 130 COBB'S SPEAKER. 8. There, in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay ; And from the sky serene and far, A voice fell, like a falling star, Excelsior ! LESSON 2 XXVI. TBI DESERT OF SAHARA. UUCKE. 1. This desert, which is in Africa, is equal in extent to one half of Europe: it is the largest in the work}. Here nature presents herself in character of frightful sterility. Gloomy, barren, and void uniformity, here produces sensations of the most distressing and disconsolate melancholy. 2. A heat prevails, too, under which nature herself seems to sink ; the mind experiences no delight from the imagination ; the souls feels no inspiration of poetry. Curiosity is entombed, as it were; and the imagination pictures nothing to animate the dread- ful waste, but wild boars, panthers, lions, and serpents. In this great desert, so extensive and vast is the prospect, that Adams travelled with the Moors twenty-nine days without seeing a single plant ; not even a blade of grass ! 3. In boundless seas, impenetrable forests, and in vast savannas, there resides grandeur, heightened by an awful repose. Here the mind pauses for materials wherewith to heighten the desolation and despair. This silence, this solitude ; more horrific are they to the imagination than the perspective of whole ages of action, of difficulty and labor. 4. Napoleon, in crossing the desert to inspect the forts of Suez, and to reconnoitre the shores of the Red Sea, passed only one tree in all the journey; the whole of which was tracked with bones and bodies of men and animals. The night was cold, and there was no fuel. His attendants gathered the dry bones and COBB'S SPEAKER. 131 bodies of the dead, that lay bleaching in the desert ; of these they made fires. 5. Napoleon remarked that the desert always had a peculiar influence on his feelings. It seemed to him, he said, " the Image of Immensity ; it showed no boundaries, and had neither begin- ning nor end ; it was an ocean on terra firma." The sands of the desert were, probably, once the sands of the sea. 6. While surveying nature under these aspects, where all is in- animation and mystery, in the midst of a profound and frightful silence, the mind bends beneath the weight of an oppression like that of nightmare. No quadruped, no bird, no insect, gives relief to a circular horizon of unvaried aspect. In the night, however, the heavens exhibit a moving picture of magnificence, not to be paralleled in any other part of the globe; the God of nature seeming to have directed all his powers to produce a scene, at once to command the admiration, and to overwhelm the faculties of the soul. LESSON XXXVII. CHANCELLOR LIVINGSTON. DR. J. W. FRANCIS. 1. In that important negotiation with the government of France, which resulted in the acquisition of Louisiana, Chancellor Liv- ingston was the prominent and efficient agent. Its transfer by the Spanish government to France, in 1802, had excited the most lively feelings of the American republic. By this unexpected measure, they were made the neighbors to a power, which, under the giant energies of the First Consul, threatened, in case of rup- ture, the very existence of our republic. 2. Immediately preceding the entrance into it of the French authorities, the Spanish powers prohibited the inhabitants of the western country the use of New Orleans as a place of deposite for their productions, contrary to the treaty with his Catholic majesty. A universal spirit of indignation animated the American people ; 132 COBB'S SPEAKER. and there were not wanting those who recommended an immediate recourse to arms. The discussions on this question in the I gress of the United States elicited debates, in which De Witt Clinton and Gouverneur Morris, representatives of this Stale in the American Senate, sustained the different views of the rival p of this country. 3. In pursuance of the sounder counsels of those who urged the propriety of negotiation and peace, the Executive of the United States deputed, as minister to the Court of Prance, the late Presi- dent Monroe ; but previous to his arrival, Mr. Li\ in an elaborate and interesting memoir, addressed to the French govern- ment, had prepared them for tin- cession of the greater part of Louisiana.* To further this great object, he had importuned the First Consul. 4. The result of Ciianci.-. r.oit Livingston's efforts was prompt and successful. On the fifth of April, the Firsl Consul announced to his bureau of state, his determination to sell whatever of Amer- ican territory he had obtained from Spain. Seven days after- Ward, Mr. Monroe arrived in Paris, and gqye the consent of the American government to this negotiation. The menacing pos- ture of affairs between France and England facilitated the ob- jects of these arrangements, and resulted in the transfei of the en- tire country to the American republic, for a sum less than was adequate for the preparation of a single campaign. 5. By this important treaty, contrary to the anticipations of the timid or interested, the confederacy of our states was placed on an invulnerable basis ; territory was added to our country, nearly equal in extent to that of the original states of our union ; and the blessings of free government secured to millions, who had other- wise groaned under the vassalage of foreign dominion. 6. The vast deserts of Louisiana are daily becoming the cheerful residence of an intelligent and Christian population, with American blood flowing in their veins, and beating responsive to republican feelings ; and the field of New Orleans is now added to those of * Livingston's Memorial COBB'S SPEAKER. 133 Bunker Hill, Stillwater, and Chippewa, as trophies of American valor and patriotism. 7. After the signing of this eventful treaty, the three ministers arose, says one of them, the Count Marbois, when Mr. Livingston, expressing the general satisfaction, said, with prophetic sagacity, " We have lived long, but this is the noblest work of our whole lives. The treaty which we have just signed has not been obtain- ed by art, or dictated by force ; equally advantageous to the two contracting parties, it will change vast solitudes into flourishing districts. From this day, the United States take their place among the powers of the first rank ; the English lose all exclusive influence in the affairs of America. 8. Thus one of the principal causes of European rivalries and animosities is about to cease. The United States will re-establish the maritime rights of all the world, which are now usurped by a single nation. These treaties will thus be a guarantee of peace and concord among commercial states. 9. The instruments which we have just signed, will cause no teai*s to be shed ; they prepare ages of happiness for innumerable generations of human creatures. The Mississippi and Missouri will see them succeed one another, and multiply, truly worthy of the regard of Providence, in the bosom of equality, under just laws, freed from the errors of superstition and the scourges of bad government." LESSON XXXVIII. A PRAIRIE ON FIRE. GEORGE W. KENDALL. 1. The 18th of August was an eventful day to us ; one which few of the party can ever forget. The night previous, we encamped without water for our cattle and horses ; and, the little we obtained for our own use was of the worst quality, and swallowed only to allay the intolerable thirst brought on by a long day's march under the hot sun. 134 COBB'S SPEAKER. 2. The hard buffalo chase had jaded my horse severely, and at such a time I well knew he needed water more than over; but, not a drop could I procure for him. In the middle of the after- noon, we altered our course somewhat to the north, to avoid the bad travelling we found immediately on our route. Small parties of men were out in every direction in search of water, but they met with no success. 3. By this time, the want of the reviving element was plainly seen in our horses; their wild and glaring eyes, with their broken, n^vous, and unsteady action, showing the intensity of th-ir rafter- ing. The mules, too, suffered much from the want of water, but nothing in comparison with the horses and oxen. The endurance of the mule is never so well tested as on a journey where both water and grass are scarce. 4. I have said that w r e continued our journey until the middle of the afternoon. About that time, and without seeing any sign ahead that could lead us to expect there was so great a change in the face of the country, we suddenly reached the brow of a pre- cipitous bluff, some two or three hundred feet in height, which overlooked a large valley, of broken and rugged appearance. 5. This valley was four or five miles in width, a ridge of rough hills bounding it on the northern side ; and, not only the descent to the valley, from the bluff on which we stood, but the whole surface below, was covered by dry cedars, apparently killed the previous year by fire. The spot upon which we stood was a level plain, covered with rank and coarse grass several feet in height. This grass, no rain having fallen for weeks, had become as dry as tinder. G. While consulting as to what course we should pursue, some one of our party discovered water at the distance of three or four miles across the valley below, a turn in the river bringing it to view. We immediately determined, if possible, to effect the descent of the steep and ragged bluff before us, and at least give our suffering animals a chance to quench their thirst, even if the water should prove too brackish for our own use. Some thirty-five or forty of the advance-guard instantly determined upon COBB'S SPEAKER. 135 undertaking the toilsome and dangerous descent ; and, to give my horse the earliest turn at the water, I accompanied this party. I. After winding and picking our way for a full hour, pitching down precipices that were nearly perpendicular, and narrowly escaping frightful chasms and fissures of the rocks, we were all enabled to reach the valley with whole bones ; but, to do this we were frequently obliged to dismount from our horses, and, in some places, fairly to push them over abrupt descents which they never would have attempted without force. I have said that this bluff was some two or three hundred feet in height : we travelled at least a mile to gain this short distance, so devious and difficult was our path. 8. The side of the bluff was formed of rough, sharp-pointed rocks, many of them of large size ; and, every little spot of earth had, in former years, given nourishment and support to some crag- gy cedar, now left leafless and desolate by fire. Shoots of young- cedars, however, were springing up where they could find root-hold ; but, they were not destined to attain the rank and standing of their sires. 9. After reaching the valley, we soon found the sandy bed of what had been a running stream in the rainy season. Immedi- ately on striking it, our tired nags raised their heads, pricked up their ears, and set off at a brisk trot, instinctively knowing that water was in the vicinity. The horse scents water at an incredi- ble distance, and frequently travellers upon the prairies are enabled to find it by simply turning their horses or mules loose. A tire- some ride of three or four miles now brought us to the river. 10. On reaching its banks, nothing could restrain our nags from dashing headlong down. Equally thirsty ourselves, we had fondly hoped that the waters might prove fresh and sweet ; but, they were even more brackish than any we had yet tasted. Re- pulsive as it was, however, we swallowed enough to moisten our parched lips and throats, and ten minutes after were even more thirsty than before. Our horses, fonder of this water than of any other, drank until apparently they could swallow no more. II. "While some of our party were digging into the sand at the 136 COBB'S SPEAKER. edge of the stream, with the hope of finding fresher water, and others were enjoying the cooling luxury of a bath, a loud report, as of a cannon, was heard in the direction of the eamp, and a dark smoke was seen suddenly to rise. "An Indian attack '." the startling cry on all sides; and instantly we comm huddling on our clothes and bridling OUT horses. One by one, as fast as we could get ready, we Bet off for what we supposed to be the scene of conflict. 12. As we neared the camping ground it became plainly evident that the prairie was on lire in all directions. When with- in a mile of the steep bluff, which cut off the prairie above from the valley, the bright flames were seen flashing from the dry cedars, and a dense volume of black smoke, rising above all. gave a painful sublimitv to the scene. On approaching nearer, we were met by some of our companions, who wen- hurriedly seeking a passage up the >teep. 13. They had heard from those on the prairie above, that the high grass had caught fire by accident and that with such velocity had it spread, that several of the wagons, and among them that of the commissioners, had been consumed. This wagon contained, in addition to a large number of cartridges, all the trunks and valuables of the mess to which I was attached, making me doubly anxious to gain the scene of action, and learn the worst. 14. It afterward proved that the explosion of the cartridges in the wagon was what we had mistaken for the report of our six-pounder. With redoubled exertions we now pushed forward towards the camp ; but, before we could reach the base of the high and rugged bluff, the flames were dashing down its sides with frightful rapidity, leaping and flashing across the gullies and around the hideous cliffs, and roaring in the deep, yawning chasms with the wild and appalling noise of a tornado. 15. As the flames would strike the dry tops of the cedars, reports resembling those of the musket would be heard ; and, in such quick succession did these reports follow each other, that I can compare them to nothing save the irregular discharge of infantry ; a strange accompaniment to the wild roar of the devouring element COBB'S SPEAKER. 137 The wind was blowing fresh from the west, when the prairie was first ignited, carrying the flames, with a speed absolutely astound- ing, over the very ground on which Ave had travelled dming the day. 16. The wind lulled as the sun went down behind the moun- tains in the west ; and now the fire beganto spread slowly in that direction. The difficult passage by which we had descended was cut off by the fire, and night found our party still in the valley, unable to discover any other road to the table-land above. Our situation was a dangerous one, too ; for, had the wind sprung up and veered into the east, we should have found much difficulty in escaping ; with such velocity did the flames extend. LESSOR XXXIX. A PRAIRIE OX FIRE. CONCLUDED. GEORGE W. KENDALL. 1. If the scene had been grand previously to the going down of the sun, its magnificence was increased tenfold as night in vain attempted to throw her dark mantle over the earth. The light from acres and acres, I might say miles and miles, of inflammable and blazing cedars, illuminated earth and sky with a radiance even more lustrous and dazzling than that of the noon-day sun. 2. Ever and anon, as some one of our comrades would approach the brow of the high bluff above us, he appeared not like an in- habitant of this earth. A lurid and most unnatural glow, reflected upon his countenance from the valley of burning cedars, seemed to render still more haggard and toilsome his burnt and blackened features. 3. I was fortunate enough, about nine o'clock, to meet one of our men, who directed me to a passage up the steep ascent. He had just left the bluff above, and gave me a piteous recital of our situation. He was endeavoring to find water after several hours of increasing toil ; and I left him, with slight hopes that his search would be rewarded. 138 COBB'S SPEAKER. 4. By this time I was alone, not one of the companions who had started with me from tin- river being in Bight or bearing; one by one they had dropped off, each searching for some path by which he might climb to the table-land above. The first p I met, after reaching the prairie, was Mr. Falconer, standing with the blackened remnant of a blanket in his hand, and watching lest the fire should break ofit in the western side of the camp; for, in that direction the exertions of the men, aided by a strong wes- terly wind, had prevented the devouring element from spreading. Mr. Falconer directed me to tie- spot where our mess was quar- tered. 5. I found them sitting upon such articles as had 1 from the wagon, their gloomy countenances rendered more de- sponding by the reflection from the now distant hie. I w*l too much worn down by fatigue and deep anxiety to make many in- quiries as to the extent of our loss ; but hungry, and almost choked with thirst, 1 threw myself upon the blackened ground, and sought forgetfulness in sleep. It was hours, however, before Bleep visited my eyelids. From the spot on which I was lying, a broad sheet of flame could still be seen, miles and miles in width; tin,' heavens in that direction so brilliantly lit up that they resembled a sea of molten gold. G. In the west, a wall of impenetrable blackness appeared to be thrown up, as the spectator suddenly turned from viewing the con- flagration in the opposite direction. The subdued yet deep roar of the element could still be plainly heard, as it sped on, as with the wings of lightning, across the prairies ; while in the valley far below, the flames were flashing and leaping among the dry ce- dars, and shooting and circling about in manner closely resem- bling a magnificent pyrotechnic display ; the general combination forming a scene of grandeur and sublimity which the pen shrinks from describing, and to which the power of words is wholly unequal. 7. Daylight, the next morning, disclosed a melancholy scene of desolation and destruction. North, south, and east, as far as the eye could reach, the rough and broken country w T as blackened by COBB'S SPEAKEE. 139 the fire ; and, the removal of the earth's shaggy covering of ce- dars and tall grass but laid bare, in painful distinctness, the awful chasms and rents in the steep hill-side before us, as well as the valley spreading far and wide below. Afar off, in the distance, a dense, black smoke was seen rising, denoting that the course of the devastating element was still onward. 8. Two of our wagons only had been entirely destroyed, but nearly all had suffered. A part of the baggage in the commis- sioners' wagon had been saved by the extraordinary exertions of some of the men ; and, just as they had relinquished the work, the explosion of cartridges, which had first alarmed the party in the valley, scattered the burning fragments of the wagon in every direction. 9. My friend Falconer was so disfigured that I hardly knew him. His hair and eyebrows were scorched completely off, his face was a perfect blister, his clothes burnt from his back, and, without a hat, he seemed as though some insurance-office had met with a heavy loss. Object of pity, however, as he appeared to be, I still could not help smiling at the sad and wo-begone figure he presented. Among the few trunks saved I fortunately found mine, containing nearly all my money, clothing, watch, and other val- uables. 10. The loss of a carpet-bag, which contained my boots and the rough articles Iwore upon the road, was all I had to regret in the way of private property. Not so with the mess to which I was attached. The remnant of coffee we still had left was burnt entirely too much ; our pots, pans, and kettles, knives and forks, were converted into old iron ; every thing was gone ; we had nothing to eat, however, except half rations of miserably poor beef, and the necessity of falling back upon first principles, or, in other words, eating with our fingers, annoyed us but little. 11. The wagon of the commissioners contained, besides our private baggage, a quantity of jewellery, blankets, cartridges, rifles, muskets, &c. These were all destroyed. The other wagon which was consumed was loaded with goods, and from this noth- ing was saved. At one time, the ammunition wagon, containing 140 COBB'S SPEAKER. a large quantity of powder, was on fire, and <>nly saved by the daring exertions of some of our men. 12. It may appear singular t<» some of my reader*, thi much damage could be caused by the burning of gram aloi on the spot where the wagons were drawn up, there was nothing but, it should bo remembered, that this grass was very high, had been killed by the dry weather, and flashed up and spread almost with the rapidity of a train of powder, on being ignited 13. It is wry easy, when a fire upon the prairies n seen coining towards a parly, to escape it- dangers by kindling the grass imme- diately about, and taking possession of the newly burnt ground before the distant flames come up; but, in this instance, the fire commenced on the windward side, and with a frightful rapidity flashed directly along our line of wagons. The only wonder at the time was, how any thing had been saved from the furiouf ment that roared and crackled around. LESSON XL. THE NATURAL ADVANTAGES OF AMERICA. WILLIAM KENT. 1. Turning first to the natural advantages of America, who can cast his eye over the broad map of his country, without an expansion of feeling, and a proud exultation, which doubt can not shake, nor ridicule repress ? If ever the hand of nature visibly pointed to the seat of an empire, it will be on the continent of North America. It is not national vanity that prompts the remark, since enlightened foreigners are the loudest to declare it ; and I now speak under the vivid impression of a late French work, by Michael Chevalier, on the Internal Communications of the United States. Of all foreigners, by the way, the French seem the best to apprehend the physical and political qualities of our country ; while the English, on the other hand, seem environed in their discussions of America by ignorance and prejudice, hopeless and invincible. COBB'S SPEAKER. 141 2. If we wish to place before an inquirer a book which shall minutely explain the structure and workings of our complicated political system, while it abounds in comprehensive, and even sublime views of the progress and destiny of America, where can we so well resort as to the writings of the accomplished and philo- sophical De Tocqueville? And we find nowhere so perfect a description of the physical resources, and great natural features of the continent, as in the works of Chevalier, who is, at this moment, endeavoring to allure his countrymen to the arts of peace, and the benefits of internal improvements, by the example of the infant republics of the west. 3. It is not surprising that France is dear to America, or that our hopes and wishes, sometimes without the concurrence of our judgment, accompanied her in the vicissitudes of her revolution- ary, and even her imperial wars ; since, besides the substantial national benefits, which, in our emergency, we have obtained from France, it is from her writers alone we receive impartial appre- hension of our national qualities, with the enchanting influence of French courtesy and politeness. 4. Your time will not be profitably employed by a lecture on the geography of the United States ; yet it may be permitted to compress into one or two sentences some of the leading thoughts of Chevalier, who, in his glance at the divisions and the water- courses of the United States, conveys the most vivid idea of their wonderful advantages and resources. The Union, then, consists of three great natural divisions. 5. The first is the Atlantic region, stretching from Maine to Florida ; bounded on the west by the Alleghanies, containing the thirteen states that fought the battle of the revolution, and have now obtained considerable longevity and population, and now pos- sess the arts and refinements of civilized life. 6. The second is the Oregon region, between the Rocky Moun- tains and the Pacific, in the possession of only roving Indians, and where some unsettled claims as to boundaries must, perhaps, be one day settled with the English or the Russians. 7. The third is the great Central region, the valley of the Mis- 142 COBB'S SPEAKER. sissippi, and its tributaries; "an immense triangle, of which the vertex is at the south, and the ba^e at the north ; possessed of a temperate climate, traversal by Fast and beautiful w at erc our se s , covered by forests, whose majestic vegetation astonishes the Euro- pean traveller, and adding to subterranean treasures, the indis- pensable requisite to the greatness of nations; b soil, to which grand diluvian movements, and accumulated depositee of d< vegetation, have given powers of remarkable fertility." 8. To bring more vividly its picture before you, let the memory accompany the currents ofite mighty rivers, compared with which the rivers of Europe, and, indeed, of the Eastern world, shrink into insignificance. On the north, the chain of the great lakes, those magnificent reservoirs of immense masses of crystal waters, supply unfailing fountains to the noble St. Lawrence, whose equal stream, the same in summer and in winter, in the meltings of spring, and the drought of autumn, " Like to the Pontic Sea, Whose icy current, and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb," glides in a rocky channel to the Straits of Belleisle. 9. Farther west, nature appears on a more extended scale. From the north, rising in the smaller lakes, proceeds the Missis- sippi proper, limpid, beautiful and majestic, watering a fertile re- gion, and passing mines of metal shortly to furnish materials for the industry, and accessions to the wealth of the nation. 10. From the east comes down to join it, with no tribute flood, our own Ohio, exhibiting already, in its matchless valley, fertility and agricultural productiveness, overpowering to the imagination, flowing, first, through the land of the forest, of pn'meval and over- shadowing w r oods, lofty in stature, and exuberant in foliage, attest- ing the richness of the soil, and the ardors of the sun ; and passing thence into the land of the prairie, where luxuriant herbage covers the traveller, and w T hose gently swelling plains, like vast undula- tions, present, in their season, with wild fertility, the similitude of an " ocean of flowers !" COBB'S SPEAKER. 143 11. On the right, in the boldest contrast, wild, turbid, and un- controllable, rushes in the mighty Missouri, " coming down 3,000 miles from among the savages, and impressing its barbarian char- acter on the Mississippi." Consistent throughout, no fair lakes have produced this Titanian torrent, and no fertility marks its progress. Draining for the space of nine degrees of latitude, it draws its waters from the clefts and gorges, the torrents and gla- ciers of the Rocky Mountains j and, rushing thence eastward, through deserts steril and wild as the steppes of Tartary, when the heat of summer has dried up its tributaries, it rolls its sullen and turbid waves through silent, deserted territories. 12. And, lastly, we behold those great rivers forming the lower Mississippi, poivring its multitudinous waves to their confluence with the ocean, attesting the volume of its flood in the undermi- ning banks, the extended marshes, the low lagunes, while the rank- ness of vegetation, the tropical fruits, the miasmas, and the very monsters engendered by its slime, exhibit the ardors of a southern sun, and the almost diseased energy of nature ! 13. Over these extended regions whose water-courses have been thus alluded to, as best conveying to a momentary glance an idea of their natural unity, the cornucopia of nature has poured its boundless profusion ; the fruit, the corn, the vine, the olive, the cotton, the cane ; the production of every climate of the temperate zones. Nor is the race of men, to whom the sovereignty of these regions is evidently committed, unequal to develop their resources, and to wield their powers, which the exuberance of nature lays at their feet. LESSON XLI. A WELL CULTIVATED MIND FORMS AN ESSENTIAL INGREDIENT OF FEMALE EXCELLENCE. DR. GARDINER SPRING. 1. We have yet to learn, that the Supreme Creator has denied to woman the same capacity for intellectual exertion, which he has communicated t:> man ; and that with the same training, the lii COBB'S SPEAKER. same auxiliaries, and the same incitement, she might not maintain her equal progression in every enterprise that demands simply in- tellectual endowment But this is a point of no easy decision, and of little utility could it be equally decided. 2. There are those who bo far depreciate the intellectual worth of females, aa to believe thai all that is important in female € tion, is limited by a thorough acquaintance with domestic philoso- phy; and, that to furnish our daughters with any thing beyond this, and particularly t<> instruct them in any of the branch solid learning and science, ia a superfluity that ill befits their con- dition and employment 3. Bui bow contracted are such news, and how far do they fall short of qualifying females tor some of the more nsoml and im- portant duties of their sei ! Mind is a glorious endowment; and, there ia no reason why the mind of a female should not be culti- vated with unwearied assiduity. 4. Particularly to a female of keen perception, intuitive judg- ment, mid fancy, and ready and attentive memory, ••very facility of developing and improving her intellectual faculties, which her mean- and conation of life can famish, should be afforded I kn<>\\ of nothing which a woman may not study and acquire to advantage. 5. If she is ambitious of deserving well, if she is diligent, as her experience and reflection become matured, I would not only have her well grounded in all the branches of a good English education, but I would delight to see her plodding her steady course through the departments of classical knowledge; introduced to the mi of science in every age; familiar with the history of other times, and the biography of other men ; well acquainted with the power of numbers ; not meanly instructed in physical and intellectual philosophy ; and especially, taught to think and reason, and to express her thoughts with propriety, force, and elegance. 6. No reason exists why the temple of science should be inter- dicted to an enterprising female ; and, why its ascent should be deemed so rough and difficult that her modest foot may not at- tempt it. Every step she gains will reward her exertion, and COBB'S SPEAKER. 145 facilitate her progress ; and, though it may not be her ambition to flourish in the republic of letters ; yet if she would be esteemed and honored in human society, and become one of its most inval- uable blessings, she need not fear extending her acquisitions. 7. But while we advert to her intellectual cultivation, let us not slightly pass over the peculiar advantage of a thorough acquaint- ance with moral science. There, every female should be at home. The wonders of the Bible have interested and amazed the strong- est intellects in creation. And if a female would be interested in subjects that can expand, and captivate, and transform her mind, that can crucify her affections to the pursuits and enjoyments of the world, then must her heart be endeared to the excellences of the Bible. 8. All these courses will strengthen and cultivate her intellec- tual powers, and fit her for usefulness. And if she be pious, how is her character invested with additional power, when it can put in requisition the force and furniture of a well-disciplined and richly cultivated mind. The greater variety of intellectual accom- plishments she possesses, the more respectable she will become, and the more influence will she exert in any sphere which she is destined to occupy. LESSOR XLII. PASSING THROUGH AN ICEBERG. [Extract from a Journal kept by a Seaman who served in the Arctic Ex- pedition of 1850-51.] 1. June 30, 1850. — Moored to an iceberg ; weather calm ; sky cloudless, and " beautifully blue ;" surrounded by a vast number of stupendous bergs, glittering and glistening beneath the refulgent rays of a mid-day sun. 2. A great portion of the crew had gone on shore to gather the eggs of the wild sea-birds that frequent the lonely ice-bound preci- 7 146 COBB'S SPEAKER. pices of Baffin's Bay, while those od board had retired to rest, wearied with the harassing toils of the preceding day. 3. To me, walking the deek and alone, all nature Beemed boshed in universal repose. \Yliil«' thus contemplating the >tillu«-^s of the monotonous seene around me, I observed in the oiling a large ice- berg, completely perforated, exhibiting in the distance an arch, ox tunnel, apparently s.> uniform in its conformation, that 1 was in- duced to call two of the Beamen t<> look at it, at tlir same time telling them that I had never read or heard of any of our Arctic voyagers passing through one of those arches so frequently seen through large bergs, and that there would be a novelty in doing so, and it they chose to accompany me, I would get permiiaion to take the dingy, (a small boat.) and endeavor to accomplish the unprecedented feat They readily agreed, and away we went 4. On nearing the arch, and ascertaining that there was a suf- ficiency of water for the boat to pas^ through, we rowed slowly and silently under, when there burst upon our view one of tie- most magnificent specimen^ of nature's handiwork ever exhibited to mortal eyes ; the sublimity and grandeur of which no language can describe; no imagination conceive. 5. Fancy an immense arch of 80 feet span, 50 feet high, and upward of 100 in breadth, as correct in its conformation as if it had been constructed by the most scientific artist ; formed of solid ice of a beautiful emerald green, its whole expanse of surface smoother than the most polished alabaster, and you may form some slight conception of the architectural beauties of this icy tem- ple, the wonderful workmanship of time and the elements. 6. When we had got about half way through the mighty struc- ture, on looking upward, I observed that the berg was split the whole breadth of the arch, and in a perpendicular direction to its summit, showing two vertical sections of regular surfaces, " darkly, deeply, beautifully blue," here and there illumined by an arctic sun which darted its golden rays between, presenting to the eye a picture of ethereal grandeur which no poet could describe, no painter portray. 7. I was so enraptured with the sight, that for a moment I fan- COBB'S SPEAKER. 147 ciecl the " blue vault of heaven" had opened, and that I actually gazed on the celestial splendor of a world beyond this. But, alas ! in an instant the scene changed, and I awoke as it were from a delightful dream, to experience all the horrors of a terrible reality. I observed the fracture rapidly close, then again slowly open. 8. This stupendous mass of ice, millions of tuns in weight, was afloat, consequently in motion, and apparently about to lose its equilibrium, capsize, or burst into fragments. Our position was truly awful ; my feelings at the moment may be conceived, but can not be described. I looked downward and around me ; the sight was equally appalling ; the very sea seemed agitated. I at last shut my eyes from a scene so terrible, the men at the oars, as if by instinct, " gave way," and our little craft swiftly glided from beneath the gigantic mass. 9. We then rowed around the berg, keeping at a respectable distance from it, in order to judge of its magnitude. I supposed it to be about a mile in circumference, and its highest pinnacle 250 feet. 10. Thus ended an excursion, the bare recollection of which, at this moment, awakens in me a shudder ; nevertheless, I would not have lost the opportunity of witnessing a scene so awfully sublime, so tragically grand, for thousands sterling ; but I would not again run such a risk for a world. 11. We passed through the berg about two P. M., and at ten o'clock the same night it burst, agitating the sea for miles around. I may also observe that the two men who were with me in the boat, did not observe that the berg was rent until I told them, after we were out of danger, we having agreed previously to entering the arch, not to speak a word to each other, lest echo itself should disturb the fragile mass. 12. Arctic voyagers differ as to what portion of an iceberg is under water. Some say one-fifth ; some one-seventh ; some more. I refer the reader to the works of Ross and Parry as the best authorities. 148 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON XLIII. ENVIRONS OF MEXICO. INTERVIEW OF CORTES AND MONTEZUMA. 1. With the first faint streak of dawn, the Spanish general was up, mustering his followers. They gathered, with beating hearts, under their respective banners, ae the trumpet Bent forth its spirit- stirring sounds across water and woodland, till khey died sway in distant echoes among the mountains. The sacred fiames on the altars of uumberless teocallit, dimly seeu through the gray mists of morning, indicated the Bite of the capital, till temple, tower, and palace were fully revealed in the glorious illumination which the sun, as he rose above the eastern barrier, poured over the beautiful valley. It was the eighth of November, 1519; a conspicuous day in history, as that on which the Europeans first set foot in the * capital of the Western World. 2. Cortes with his little body of horse formed a sort of advanced, i guard to the army. Then came the Spanish infantry, who in a/^ summer's campaign had acquired the discipline, and the weather- ^ beaten aspect of veterans. The baggage occupied the centre ; and the rear was closed by the dark files of Tlascalan warriors. The whole number must have fallen short of seven thousand ; of which less than four hundred were Spaniards. 3. For a short distance, the army kept along the narrow tongue of land that divides the Tezcucan from the Chalcan waters, when it entered on the great dike, which, with the exception of an angle near the commencement, stretches in a perfectly straight line across the salt floods of Tezcuco to the gates of the capital. It was the same causeway, or rather the basis of that, which still forms the great southern avenue of Mexico. The Spaniards had occasion more than ever to admire the mechanical science of the Aztecs, in the geometrical precision with which the work was executed, as well as the solidity of its construction. It was com- posed of huge stones well laid in cement ; and wide enough, throughout its whole extent, for ten horsemen to ride abreast. COBB'S SPEAKER. 149 4. They saw, as they passed along, several large towns, resting on piles, and reaching far into the water ; a kind of architecture which found great favor with the Aztecs, being in imitation of that of their metropolis. The busy population obtained a good subsistence from the manufacture of salt, which they extracted from the waters of the great lake. The duties on the traffic in this article were a considerable source of revenue to the crown. 5. Everywhere the Conquerors beheld the evidence of a crowded and thriving population, exceeding all that they had yet seen. The temples and principal buildings of the cities were covered with a hard white stucco, which glistened like enamel in the level beams of the morning. The margin of the great basin was more thickly gemmed, than that of Chalco, with towns and hamlets. The water was darkened by swarms of canoes filled with Indians, who clambered up the sides of the causeway, and gazed with curious astonishment on the strangers. 6. And here, also, they beheld those fairy islands of flowers, overshadowed occasionally by trees of considerable size, rising and falling with the gentle undulation of the billows. At the distance of half a league from the capital, they encountered a solid work or curtain of stone, which traversed the dike. It was twelve feet high, was strengthened by towers at the extremities, and in the centre was a battlemented gate-way, which opened a passage to the troops. It was called the Fort of Xoloc, and became memo- rable in aftertimes as the position occupied by Cortes in the famous siege of Mexico. 1. Here they were met by several hundred Aztec chiefs, who came out to announce the approach of Montezuma, and to welcome the Spaniards to his capital. They were dressed in the fanciful gala costume of the country, with the maxtlatl, or cotton sash, around their loins, and a broad mantle of the same material, or of the brilliant feather-embroidery, flowing gracefully down their shoulders. On their necks and arms they displayed collars and bracelets of turquoise mosaic, with which delicate plumage was curiously mingled, while their ears, under lips, and occasionally their noses, were garnished with pendants formed of precious stones, 150 COBB'S SPEAKER. or crescents of fine gold. As each cacique made the usual bnul salutation of the country separately to the general, the tedious ceremony delayed the march more than an hour. After this, the army experienced no farther interruption till it reached a bridge near the gates of the city. 8. It was built of wood, since replaced by one of stone, .ml was thrown across an opening of the dike, which furnished an out- let to the w;it»-r-, when agitated by the winds, or swollen by a sudden influx in the rainy season. It was a draw-bridge; and the Spaniards, as they crossed it, felt how truly they were commit- ting themselves to the mercy of Montezuma, who, by thus cutting off their communications with the country, might hold them prisoners jn his capital. 9. In the midst of these unpleasant reflections, they beheld the glittering retinue of the emperor emerging from the great street which led then, as it still does, through the heart of the city. Amidst a crowd of Indian nobles, preceded by three officers of state, bearing golden wands, they saw the royal palanquin blazing with burnished gold. It was borne on the shoulders of nobles, and over it a canopy of gaudy feather-work, powdered with jewels, and fringed w r ith silver, was supported by four attendants of the same rank. They were bare-footed, and walked with a slow, measured pace, and with eyes bent on the ground. When the train had come within a convenient distance, it halted, and Montezuma, descending from his litter, came forward leaning on the arms of the lords of Tezcuco and Iztapalapan, his nephew and brother, both of whom, as we have seen, had already been made known to the Spaniards. 10. As the monarch advanced under the canopy, the obsequi- ous attendants strowed the ground with cotton tapestry, that his imperial feet might not be contaminated by the rude soil. His subjects of high and low degree, who lined the sides of the cause- way, bent forward with their eyes fastened on the ground as he passed, and some of the humbler class prostrated themselves before him. Such was the homage paid to the Indian despot, COBB'S SPEAKEK. 151 showing that the slavish forms of Oriental adulation were to be found among the rude inhabitants of the Western World. 1 1 . Montezuma wore the girdle and ample square cloak, til- matli, of his nation. It was made of the finest cotton, with the embroidered ends gathered in a knot around his neck. His feet were defended by sandals having soles of gold, and the leathern thongs which bound them to his ankles were embossed with the same metal. Both the cloak and sandals were sprinkled with pearls and precious stones, among which the emerald and the chalchivitl, a green stone of higher estimation than any other among the Aztecs, were conspicuous. On his head he wore no other ornament than a panache of plumes of the royal green which floated down his back, the badge of military, rather than of regal, rank. 12. He was at this time about forty years of age. His person was tall and thin, but not ill made. His hair, which was black and straight, was not very long ; to wear it short was considered unbecoming persons of rank. His beard was thin ; his complex- ion somewhat paler than is often found in his dusky, or rather copper-colored race. His features, though serious in their expres- sion, did not wear the look of melancholy, indeed, of dejection, which characterizes his portrait, and which may well have settled on them at a later period. He moved with dignity, and his whole demeanor, tempered by an expression of benignity not to have been anticipated from the reports circulated of his character, was worthy of a great prince. Such is the portrait left to us of the celebrated Indian emperor, in this his first interview with the white men. 13. The army halted as he drew near. Cortes, dismounting, threw his reins to a page, and, supported by a few of the principal cavaliers, advanced to meet him. The interview must have been one of uncommon interest to both. In Montezuma, Cortes beheld the lord of the broad realms he had traversed, whose magnificence and power bad been the burden of every tongue. In the Span- iard, on the other hand, the Aztec prince saw the strange being whose history seemed to be so mysteriously connected with his 152 COBB'S SPEAKER. own ; the predicted one of his oracles, whose achievements pro- claimed him something more than human. But, whatever may have been the monarch's feelings, he bo far suppressed them si to receive his guest with princely courtesy, and to express his satis- faction at personally seeing aim in his capital. 14. Cortes responded l>y the moat profound! expressioni while he made ample acknowledgments for the substantia] proofb which the emperor had given the Spaniards of his mnnifi He then hung around Montezuma's Deck a sparkling chain of colored crystal, accompanying tins with a movement as it' ho em- brace him, when he was restrained by the two Aztec lords, sh at the menaced profanation of the sacred person of their master. After the interchange of these civilities, Montezuma appointed bis brother to conduct the Spaniards to their residence in the capital, and again entering his litter, was borne off amidst prostrate crowds in the same state in which he had come. The Spaniards quickly followed, and with c ilors flying and music playing Boon made their entrance into the southern quarter of Tenochtitlan, LESSON XLIV. THE LSIULE. REV. RALPH BOOT. Bible ! Blessed Bible ! art ! What sweet consolation, Doth thy page impart; In the fiercest trial, In the deepest gi'ief, Strength, and hope, and comfort, In each holy leaf. Bible, let me clasp thee, Anchor of the soul ! When the storm is raging, When the waters roll, COBB'S SPEAKER. 153 When the frowning heavens Darken every star, And no hopeful beacon, Glimmereth afar, Be my refuge, Bible ! Then be thou my stay, Guide me on life's billow, Light the dreary way. 3. Tell me of the morrow, When a sun shall rise, That shall glow for ever, In unclouded skies ; Tell me of that haven In the climes above, Where the bark rides safely In a sea of love. 4. Bible, let me clasp thee ! Chronicle divine, Of a world's redemption, Of a Saviour, mine ! Wisdom for the simple, Riches for the poor, Hope for the desponding, For the sick, a cure. Rest for all the weary, Ransom for the slave, Courage for the fearful, Life beyond the grave 5. Bible! Blessed Bible ! Treasure of the heart, What sweet consolation, Doth thy page impart ; 1* 154 COBB'S SPEAKER. In the fiercest trial, In the deepest grief, Strength, and hope, and comfort, In each holy hat'. LESSON XLV. A PEKILOUS SITUATION. AUDUBON. 1. On my return from the Upper Mississippi, I found myself obliged to cross one of the wild prairies, which in that portion of the United States vary the appearance of the country. The weather was fine; all around me was a> fresh and blooming as if it had just issued from the bosom of nature. My knapsack, my gun, and my dog, were all I had for baggage and company. The track which I followed was an old Indian trace; and, as darkness overshadowed the prairie, I felt some desire to reach at least a copse, in which I might lie down to rest 2. The night-hawks were skimming over and around me, at- tracted by the buzzing wings of the beetles, which form their food, and the distant howling of wolves gave me some hope that I should soon arrive at the skirt of some woodland. I did so ; and, almost at the same instant, a fire-light attracting my eye, I moved tow- ards it, full of confidence that it proceeded from the camp of some wandering Indians. I was mistaken : I discovered from its glare that it was from the hearth of a small log cabin, and that a tall figure passed and repassed between it and me, as if busOy engaged in household arrangements. 3. I reached the spot, and, presenting myself at the door, asked the tall figure, which proved to be a woman, if I might take shel- ter under her roof for the night. Her voice was gruff, and her attire negligently thrown about her. She answered in the affirm- ative. I walked in, took a wooden stool, and quietly seated my- self by the fire. The next object that attracted my attention was COBB'S SPEAKER. 155 a finely-formed young Indian, resting his head between his hands, with his elbows upon his knees. A long bow rested against the log wall near him, while a quantity of arrows and two or three rackoon-skins lay at his feet. He moved not; he apparently breathed not. 4. Accustomed to the habits of the Indians, and knowing that they pay little attention to the approach of civilized strangers, (a circumstance which, in some countries, is considered as evincing the apathy of their character,) I addressed him in French, a lan- guage not unfrequently partially known to the people in that neighborhood. He raised his head, pointed to one of his eyes with his- finger, and gave me a significant glance with the other. His face was covered with blood. The fact was, that an hour before this, as he was in the act of discharging an arrow at a rackoon in the top of a tree, the arrow split upon the cord, and sprang back with such violence into his right eye, as to destroy it for ever. 5. Feeling hungry, I inquired what sort of fare I was to expect. Such a thing as a bed was not to be seen, but many large untanned bear and buffalo hides lay piled in a corner. I drew a fine time-piece from my breast, and told the woman that it was late, and that I was fatigued. She had espied my watch, the richness of which seemed to operate upon her feelings with electric quickness. She told me there was plenty of venison and jerked buffalo meat, and that, on removing the ashes, I should find a cake. But my watch had struck her fancy, and her curiosity had to be gratified by an immediate sight of it. 6. I took off the gold chain that seemed it, from around my neck, and presented it to her. She was all ecstasy, spoke of its beauty, asked me its value, and put the chain around her brawny neck, saying how happy the possession of such a watch would make her. Thoughtless, and, as I fancied myself in so retired a spot, secure, I paid little attention to her talk or her movements. I helped my dog to a good supper of venison, and was not long- in satisfying the demands of my own appetite. 7. The Indian rose from his seat, as if in extreme suffering. He passed and repassed me several times, and once pinched me on 156 COBB'S SPEAKER. the side so violently, that the pain nearly brought forth an excla- mation of anger. I looked at him. His eye met mine ; but his look was so forbidding, that it struck a chill into the more nervous part of my system. He again seated himself, drew his bukhei- knife from his greasy scabbard, examined its edge as I would do that of a razor suspected dull, replaced it, and, again taking his tomahawk from his back, filled the pipe of it with tobacco, and sent me expressive glances whenever our hostess chanced to have her back towards as. 8. Never until that moment had my senses been awakened to the danger which I now suspected to be about me. I returned glance for glance with my companion, and became well ai that whatever enemies I might have, he was not of their number. 9. I asked the woman for my watch, wound it up, and under pretence of wishing to see how the weather might probably be on the morrow, took up my gun, and walked out of the cabin. I slipped a ball into each barrel, scraped the edges of my flints re- newed the primings, returned to the hut, and gave a favorable account of my observation. I took up a few bear-skins, made a pallet of them, and, calling my faithful dog to my side, lay down with my gun close to my body, and in a few minutes was, to all appearance, fast asleep. 10. A short time had elapsed, when some voices were heard; and, from the corner of my eyes, I saw two athletic youths making their entrance, bearing a dead stag on a pole. They disposed of their burden, and, asking for whiskey, helped themselves freely to it. Observing me and the wounded Indian, they asked who I was, and why that rascal, (meaning the Indian, who they knew understood not a word of English,) was in the house. 11. The mother, (for so she proved to be,) bade them speak less loudly, made mention of my watch, and took them to a corner, where a conversation took place, the purport of which it required little shrewdness in me to guess. I tapped my dog gently. He moved his tail ; and, with indescribable pleasure, I saw his fine eyes alternately fixed on me and raised towards the trio in the COBB'S SPEAKEK. 157 corner. I felt that he perceived the danger of my situation. The Indian exchanged a glance with me. 12. The lads had eaten and drunken themselves into such a condition, that I already looked upon them as hors de combat ; and the frequent visits of the whiskey bottle to the ugly mouth of their dam, I hoped, would soon reduce her to a like state. Judge of my astonishment, when I saw this incarnate fiend take a large carving-knife, and go to the grindstone to whet its edge. 13. I saw her pour the water on the turning machine, and watched her working away the dangerous instrument, until the cold sweat covered every part of my body, in §pite of my determi- nation to defend myself to the last. Her task finished, she walked to her reefing sons, and said, " There, that'll soon settle him !" She then directed them to kill the Indian while she despatched me. 14. I turned, made ready my gun silently, touched my faithful companion, and lay ready to start up and shoot the first that should attempt my life. The moment was fast approaching, and that night might have been my last had not Providence made prep- arations for my rescue. All was ready. The old hag was advancing slowly, probably contemplating the best way of despatch- ing me, while her sons should be engaged with the Indian. I was several times on the eve of rising and shooting her on the spot ; but she was not to be punished thus. The door was suddenly opened, and there entered two stout travellers, each with a long rifle on his shoulder. I bounced upon my feet, and making them most heartily welcome, told them how well it was for me, that they should have arrived at that moment. 15. The tale was told in a moment. The drunken sons were secured, and the woman, in spite of her defence and vociferations, shared the same fate. The wounded Indian fairly danced with joy, and gave us to understand that as he could not sleep for pain, he would watch over us. You may suppose that we slept much less than we talked. The two strangers told me that they them- selves had once been in a somewhat similar situation. 16. The next morning our captives were unbound; and, after 158 COBB'S SPEAKER. inflicting upon them a proper chastisement, and suitably rewarding the friendly Indian, we set off towards the settlements. During upwards of twenty-five years, when my wandering extended to all parts of our country, this was the only time at which my life was in danger from my fellow-creatures. Indeed, so little ri.sk do travellers run in the United States, that no one born there ever dreams of any danger to be encountered on the road ; and, I can only account for this occurrence by supposing that the inhabitants of the cabin were not Americans. LESSON XLVI. THE CREATOR TO BE REMEMBERED IN YOUTH. — ECCLE8IA8TE8, CHAPTER XII. BIBLE. 1. Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them ; While the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain : In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease be- cause they are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened ; 2. And the doors shall be shut in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be brought low ; Also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and the almond-tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail ; because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets : 3. Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern : COBB'S SPEAKER. 159 Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was ; and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it. 4. Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher ; all is vanity. And, moreover, because the Preacher was wise, he still taught the people knowledge ; yea, he gave good heed, and sought out, and set in order, many proverbs. The Preacher sought to find out acceptable words ; and that which was written was upright, even words of truth. 5. The words of the wise are as goads, and as nails fastened by the masters of assemblies, which are given from one shepherd. And farther, by these, my son, be admonished : of making- many books there is no end ; and much study is a weariness of the flesh. 6. Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter ; Fear God, and keep his commandments : for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every se- cret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil. LESSON XLVII. st. peter's church at rome. — j. t. headly. 1. Now for a chapter of statistics. I hate them, but in no other way can you get an idea of the size of St. Peter's. I will not give you feet and inches, but say that you could pile about twelve such as Trinity Church, New York, into St. Peter's, and have considerable room left for walking about. By taking off the steeples, you could arrange two rows of them in the church, three in a row ; then clap on the steeples again under the dome, and they would reach a trifle more than half way to the top. You could put two churches like the Trinity under the dome, and have the entire nave of the church and both side-aisles wholly unoccupied. 2. Take three Astor-houses, and place them lengthwise, and they would extend the length of the inside of St. Peter's : make a 160 COBB'S SPEAKER. double row of them, and they would till it half way up to the roof, pretty snug. Thirty or forty common churches could be itowed away in it without much trouble; and, the four columns that support the dome are each larger than an ordinary dwelling-house. But this is nothing: the marble, the statuary, the costly tombs, the architecture, the art, arc indescribable, 3. I will now describe the closing up of Easter Sunday. It is a principle in all Catholic ceremonies, never to wind off gradually, as is too frequently the case among Protestants, but to have the last display the most magnificent of all. Tims, on Easter Sunday, the dosing up of Holy Week, the Papal throne crowds its entire pomp into its ceremonies. * * * * * 4. This great huilding, covering several acres, is illuminated on its entire outer surface. It is caused by suspending four thousand four hundred lanterns upon it, covering it from the dome down. To accomplish this, men have to be let down with ropes, over every part of the edifice, and left dangling there for more than an hour. Even from the base of the church, they appear like insects creeping over the surface. Hanging down the precipitous sides of the immense dome, standing four hundred feet high in the air, is attended with so much danger, that the eighty men employed in it always receive extreme unction before they attempt it. 5. There are two illuminations. The first is called the silver one, and commences about eight o'clock in the evening. These four thousand four hundred lamps are so arranged as to reveal the entire architecture of the building. Every column, cornice, frieze, and window ; all the details of the building, and the entire structure, are revealed in a soft, clear light, producing an elfect in- describably pleasing, yet utterly bewildering. It seems an im- mense alabaster building, lit from within. 6. The long lines of light made by the columns, with the shad- ows between, the beautiful cornice glittering over the darkness under it; the magnificent semicircular colonnades all inherent with light, and every one of the one hundred and ninety-two statues along its top surmounted with a lamp, and the immense dome rising over all like a mountain of molten silver, in the deep darkness COBB'S SPEAKER. 161 around, so completely delude the sense, that one can think of nothing but a fairy fabric suddenly lighted and hung in mid-heav- ens. This effect, however, is given only when one stands at a dis- tance. The Pincian hill is the spot from which to view it. All around is buried in deep darkness, except that steadily shining glory. Not a sound is heard to break the stillness, and you gaze, and gaze, expecting every moment to see the beautiful vision fade. But it still shines calmly on. V. This illumination lasts from eight to nine ; and just as the bell of the Cathedral strikes nine, sending its loud and solemn peal over the city, a thousand four hundred and seventy-five torch- es are suddenly kindled, besides the lanterns. The change is instantaneous and almost terrific. The air seems to waver to and fro in the sudden light ; shape and form are lost for a moment, and the vision which just charmed your senses is melted and flow- ing together. 8. The next moment old St. Peter's again draws its burning out- line against the black sky, and stands like a mountain of torches in the deep night, with a fiery cross burning at the top. How the glorious structure burns, yet unconsumed ! The flames wrap it in their fierce embrace, and yet not a single detail is lost in the conflagration. There is the noble facade in all its harmony, and yet on fire ! There are the immense colonnades wavering in the light, changed only in that they are now each a red marble shaft. The statues stand unharmed, and all fiery figures. 9. The dome is a vast fire-ball in the darkness, yet its distinct outline remains as clear as at the first. The whole mighty edifice is there, but built all of flame ; columns, frieze, cornice, windows, domes, cross : a temple of fire, perfect in every part, flashing, sway- ing, burning in mid-heavens. The senses grow bewildered in gazing on its intense brilliancy, and the judgment pronounces it an opti- cal illusion, unreal, fantastical. 10. Yet the next moment it stands corrected : that w St. Peter's flaming, unwasted in the murky heavens. Hour after hour it blazes on, and the last torch is yet unextinguished when the gray twilight of morning opens in the east. 162 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON XLVIII. TRIBUTE TO THE ENTERPRISING SPIRIT OF THE NEW ENGLAND LO N I STS . BUBXS. 1. As to the wealtli, Mr. Speaker, -which the colonic have drawn from the sea by their fisheries, you had all that matter fully opened at your bar. You surely thought those acquisitions of value, fur they seemed even to excite your envy ; and yet the spirit by which that enterprising employment has been earn ought rather, in my opinion, to have raised your esteem and ad- miration. 2. And pray, sir, what in the world is equal to it ? Pass by the other parts, and look at the manner in which (he people of New England have of late carried on the whale fishery. While we follow them among the tumbling mountains of ice, and be- hold them penetrating into the deepest frozen recesses of Btidson'i Bay and Davis's Straits, while we are looking for them beneath the Arctic Circle, we hear that they have pierced into the opposite region of polar cold, that they are at the antipodes, and engaged under the frozen serpent of the south. 3. Falkland Island, which seemed too remote and romantic an object for the grasp of national ambition, is but a stage and rest- ing-place in the progress of their victorious industry. Nor is the equinoctial heat more discouraging to them, than the accumulated winter of both the poles. We know that while some of them draw the line and strike the harpoon on the coast of Africa, others run the longitude and pursue their gigantic game along the coast of Brazil. No sea but that is vexed by their fisheries. No cli- mate that is not witness to their toils. 4. Neither the perseverance of Holland, nor the activity of France, nor the dexterous and firm sagacity of English enterprise, ever carried this most perilous mode of hardy industry to the ex- tent to which it has been pushed by this recent people ; a people who are still, as it were, but in the gristle, and not yet hardened into the bone of manhood. COBB'S SPEAKER. 163 5. When I contemplate these things ; when I know that the colonies, in general, owe little or nothing to any care of ours, and that they are not squeezed into this happy form by the constraints of a watchful and suspicious government, but that, through a wise and salutary neglect, a generous nature has been suffered to take her own way to perfection : when I reflect upon these effects ; when I see how profitable they have been to us, I feel all the pride of power sink, and all presumption in the wisdom of human contrivances melt and die away within me. My rigor relents. I pardon something to the spirit of liberty. LESSON XLIX. THE CHIPPEWA CHIEFS AND GENERAL TAYLOR. FROM THE NA- TIONAL ERA. 1. On the third day after the arrival of General Taylor at Washington, the Indian chiefs requested me to seek an interview for them. They were about to leave for their homes, on Lake Superior, and greatly desired to see the new President before their departure. It was accordingly arranged, by the general, to see them the next morning, at nine o'clock, before the usual reception hour. 2. Fitted out in their very best, with many items of finery which their taste for the imposing had added to their wardrobe, the delegation and their interpreter accompanied me to the recep- tion-room, and General Taylor cordially took them by the hand. One of the chiefs arose, and addressed the President, elect, nearly as follows : 3. " Father ! We are glad to see you, and we are pleased to see you so well after your long journey. 4. u Father ! We are the representatives of about twenty thou- sand of your red children, and are just about leaving for our homes, for off in Lake Superior ; and, we are very much gratified, 164 COBB'S SPEAKER. that, before our departure, wo have the opportunity of shaking hands with you. 5. "Father! You have conquered your country'i BDMHM in war; may you subdue the enemies of your administration while you are President of the United States, and govern tin- country, like the great father, Washington, before you, with wis- dom and in peao . 6. "Fatberl This our visit through the country and to the cities of your white children, and the wonderful things that we have seen, impress na with awe, and can— ni to think that the white man ifl the favored of the Greal Spirit. 7. "Father! In the midst of the great bkaringa with which you and your white children are favored of the (Jr«*at Spirit, we ask of you, while you are in power, not to forget your leu fortu- nate red children. They are now few, and scattered, and poor. You can help them. 8. "Father ! Although a successful warrior, we have heard of your humanity ! And now that we see you face to fact-, we are satisfied that you have a heart to feel for your poor rod children. Father! Farewell i" U. The tall, manly-looking chief having finished and shaken hands, General Taylor asked him to be seated; and, rising him- self, replied nearly as follows ! 10. u My Bed Children ! I am very happy to have this inter- view with you. What you have said I have listened to with in- terest. It is the more appreciated by me, as I am no stranger to your people. I resided for a length of time on your borders, and have been witness to your privations, and am acquainted with many of your wants. 11. " Peace must be established and maintained between your- selves and the neighboring tribes of the red men ; and, you need, in the next place, the means of subsistence. 12. "My Red Children! I thank you for your kind wishes expressed for me personally, and as President of the United States. 13. "While I am in office, I shall use my influence to keep you at peace with the Sioux, between whom and the Chippewa3 COBB'S SPEAKER. 165 there has always been a most deadly hostility, fatal to the pros- perity of both nations. I shall also recommend that you be pro- vided with the means of raising corn and the other necessaries of life. 14. "My Red Children ! I hope that you have met with suc- cess in your present visit, and that you may return to your homes without an accident by the way ; and, I bid you say to your red brethren, that I cordially wish them health and prosperity. Fare- well." 15. This interesting interview closed with a general shaking of hands ; and, during the addresses, it is creditable to the parties to say, that their feelings were reached. LESSON L. OH MOTHER, WOULD THE POWER WERE MINE." MARGARET DAVISON. 1. Oh mother, would the power were mine, To wake the strain thou lov'st to hear, And breathe each trembling, new-born thought, Within thy fondly listening ear ; As w T hen in days of youth and glee My hopes and fancies wandered free. 2. But, mother, now a shade has past Athwart my brightest visions here, A cloud of darkest gloom has wrapped The remnant of my brief career ! No song, no echo can I win, The sparkling fount has died within. 3. The torch of earthly hope burns dim, And fancy spreads her wings no more ; And oh, how vain and trivial seem, The pleasures that I prized before. 166 COBB'S SPEAKER. My soul with trembling steps and slow, As struggling on through doubt and strife, Oh may it prove, as time rolLs on, The pathway to eternal life ; Then, when my cares and fears are o'er, I'll sing thee as in days of yore. 4. I said that hope had patted from earth ; 'T was but to fold her wings in heaven ; To whisper of the soul's new birth, Of sinners saved, and sins forgiven. When mine are washed in tear- away, Then shall my spirit swell its lay. 5. When God shall guide my soul above, By the soft cords of heavenly love, When the vain cares of earth depart, And tuneful voices swell my heart, Then shall each word, each note I raise, Burst forth in pealing hymns of praise ; And all not offered at his shrine, Dear mother, I will place on thine. LESSON LI. OUR WONDROUS ATMOSPHERE. QUARTERLY REVIEW. 1. The atmosphere rises above us with its dome, arching tow- ards the heavens, of which it is the most familiar synonyme and symbol. It floats around us, like that grand object which the Apostle John saw in his vision ; " a sea of glass like unto crys- tal." 2. So massive is it that when it stirs it tosses about great ships, like playthings, and sweeps cities and forests, like snow-flakes, to COBB'S SPEAKER. 167 destruction before it; and yet is so subtile that we have lived years in it before we can be persuaded that it exists at all ; and the great bulk of mankind never realize the truth that they are bathed in an ocean of air. Its weight is so enormous that iron shivers before it like glass ; yet a soap ball sails through it with impunity, and the thinnest insect waves it aside with its wing. 3. It ministers lavishly to all the senses. We touch it not, but it touches us. Its warm south winds bring back color to the face of the invalid ; its cool west winds refresh the fevered brow, and make the blood mantle in our cheeks ; even its north blast braces into new vigor the hardened children of our rugged climate. 4. The eye is indebted to it for all the magnificence of sunrise, the full brightness of mid-day, the chastened radiance of the twi- light, and the clouds that cradle near the setting sun. But for it, the rainbow would want its " triumphal arch," and the winds would not send their fleecy messengers on errands around the heav- ens. The cold ether would not shed snow feathers on the earth, nor would drops of dew gather on the flowers. The kindly rain would never fall, nor hail, storm, nor fog, diversify the face of the sky. 5. Our naked globe would turn its tanned and unshadowed fore- head towards the sun, and one dreary monotonous blaze of light and heat, dazzle and burn up all things. Were there no atmo- sphere, the evening sun would in a moment set, and, without warn- ing, plunge the earth in darkness. But the air keeps his rays, and lets them slip but slowly through her fingers ; so that the shadows of evening are gathered by degrees, and the flowers have time to bow their heads, and every creature space to find a place of rest, and to nestle to repose. 6. In the morning, the sun would burst at one bound from the bosom of night, and blaze above the horizon ; but the air watches for his coming, and sends at first one little ray to announce his ap- proach, and then another, and by and by a handful, and so gently draws aside the curtain of night, and slowly lets the light fall on the face of the earth, till her eyelids open, and like a man, she go- eth forth again to her labors till the evening. 168 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON LII. EDUCATION IN PRUSSIA. — R0CHE8TBB GEM. 1. All parents, in Prussia, are bound by law to send their chil- dren to the public elementary schools, «»r to satisfy the authorities that their education is sufficiently provided for at home* This regulation i> of considerable antiquity; it was connrmed by Fred- erick the Great, ID 1 TOO, and was introduced into the Press i.m Landiecht, or code, in 1794, and finally it was adopted in the law of 1810, which forma the basis of the actual system of Prussia. 2. The obligation in question extends not only to parents and guardians, but bo all persons who have power over children, such BS Manufacturers, and masters of apprentices, and applies to chil- dren of both sexes, from their seventh to their fourteenth year complete. Twice a year, the school committee and the munici- pal authorities make a list of the children in their district whose parents do not provide for their education, and require the attend- ance of all who are within the prescribed age. 3. This attendance is dispensed with if satisfaction is given that the children will be properly instructed elsewhere ; but the parent! are nevertheless bound to contribute to the school to which their children would naturally belong. Lists of attendance, kept by the schoolmaster, are delivered every fortnight to the school committee. 4. In order to facilitate the regular attendance of the children, and yet not altogether deprive the parents of their assistance, the hours of lessons in the elementary schools are arranged in such a manner as to leave the children, every day, some hours for domes- tic labors. The schoolmasters are prohibited by severe penalties from employing their scholars in household work. The schools are closed on Sundays ; but, the evenings, after divine service and the catechism, may be devoted to gymnastic exercises. 5. Care is taken to enable poor parents to obey the law, by providing their children with books and clothes. " It is to be hoped, (says the law,) that facilities and assistance of this kind, the moral and religious influence of clergymen, and the good advice COBB'S SPEAKER. 169 of members of the school committees and the municipal authori- ties, will cause the people gradually to appreciate the advantages of a good elementary education ;» and will infuse among young persons the desire of obtaining knowledge, which will lead them to seek it of their own accord." 6. If. however, the parents omit to send their children to school, the clergyman is first to acquaint them with the importance of the duty which they neglect ; and, if his exhortation is not sufficient, the school committee may summon them, and remonstrate with them severely. The only excuses admitted are, a certificate of ill- ness by a medical man, the absence of the children with their pa- rents, or the want of clothes. 7. If all remonstrances fail, the children may be taken to school by a policeman, or the parents, guardians, or masters, brought before the committee and fined, or imprisoned in default of pay- ment, or condemned to hard labor for the benefit of the commune. These punishments may be increased up to a certain limit for suc- cessive infractions of the law. 8. Whenever the parents are condemned to imprisonment or hard labor, care is to be taken that their children are not aban- doned during the time of their punishment. Parents who neglect this duty to their children, are to lose all claim to pecuniary re- lief from the public, except the allowance for instruction, which, however, is not to pass through their hands. They are likewise declared incapable of filling any municipal office in their com- mune. 9. If all punishments fail, a guardian is to be allotted to the children, and a co-guardian to wards, in order specially to watch over their education. Both Protestant and Roman Catholic min- isters are enjoined to exhort parents to send their children regularly to school ; and they are prohibited from admitting any children to their examinations for confirmation and communion, who do not produce certificates showing that they have finished their attend- ance at school, or that they still regularly attend it, or that they receive or have received a separate education. 8 170 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON LIIL A PILGRIMAGE TO THE CKADLE OF AMERICAN LIBERTV, WITH PEN AND PENCIL. BENSON J. LOSBINO's M PICTORIAL FIELD BOOK OF THE REVOLUTION." " How suddenly that straight and glittering shaft Shot 'thwart the earth ! in crown of living fire Up comes the day ! As if they conscious quaffed The sunny flood, hill, forest, city spire Laugh in the waking light." — Richard H. Dana. 1. It was a glorious October morning, mild and brilliant, when I left Boston to visit Concord and Lexington. A gentle land- breeze during the night had borne the clouds back to their ocean birthplace, and not a trace of the storm was Left, except in the saturated earth. Health returned with the clear sky, and I felt a rejuvenescence in ever}'' vein and muscle when, at dawn, I strolled over the natural glory of Boston, its broad and beautiful ly-arbored Common. 2. I breakfasted at six, and at half-past seven left the station of the Fitchburg Kail-way for Concord, seventeen miles northwest of Boston. The country through which the road passed is rough and broken, but thickly settled. I arrived at the Concord station, about half a mile from the centre of the village, before nine o'clock, and, procuring a conveyance, and an intelligent young man for a guide, proceeded at once to visit the localities of interest in the vicinity. 3. We rode to the residence of Major James Barrett, a survi- ving grandson of Colonel Barrett, about two miles north of the village, and near the residence of his venerated ancestor. Major Barrett was eighty-seven years of age when I visited him ; and his wife, with whom he had lived nearly sixty years, was eighty. Like most of the few survivers of the Revolution, they were remarkable for their mental and bodily vigor. 4. Both, I believe, still live. The old lady, a small, well-formed woman, was as sprightly as a girl of twenty, and moved about the COBB'S SPEAKER 171 house with the nimbleness of foot of a matron in the prime of life. I was charmed with her vivacity, and the sunny radiance which it seemed to shed throughout her household ; and the half hour that I passed with that venerable couple, is a green spot in the memory. 5. Major Barrett was a lad of fourteen when the British incur- sion into Concord took place. He was too young to bear a mus- ket, but, with every lad and woman in the vicinity, he labored in concealing the stores, and in making cartridges for those who went out to fight. With oxen and a cart, himself, and others about his age, removed the stores deposited at the house of his grandfather, into the woods, and concealed them, a cart-load in a place, under pine boughs. 6. In such haste were they obliged to act on the approach of the British from Lexington, that, when the cart was loaded, lads would march on each side of the oxen, and goad them into a trot. Thus all the stores were effectually concealed, except some carriage- wheels. Perceiving the enemy near, these were cut up and burnt ; so that Parsons found nothing of value to destroy or carry away. V. From Major Barrett's we rode to the monument erected at the site of the old North Bridge, where the skirmish took place. The road crosses the Concord Eiver a little above the site of the North Bridge. The monument stands a few rods westward of the road leading to the village, and not far from the house of the Rev. Dr. Ripley, who gave the ground for the purpose. The monument is constructed of granite from Carlisle, and has an inscription upon a marble tablet inserted in the eastern face of the pedestal. 8. The view is from the green shaded lane which leads from the highway to the monument, looking westward. The two trees standing, one upon each side, without the iron railing, were sap- lings at the time of the battle ; between them was the entrance to the bridge. The monument is reared upon a mound of earth, a few yards from the left bank of the river. A little to the left, two rough, uninscribed stones from the field, mark the graves of the 172 COBB'S SPEAKER. two British soldiers who were killed and buried upon the noL AYe returned to the village .-it about noon, and started immediately fur Lexington, six miles eastward. lb Concord is a pleasant little village, including within its bor- ders about one hundred dwellings. It lies upon the Concord River, one of the chief tributaries of the Merrimac, near the junc- tion "t* the A— alp. ill and Sudbury Rivers. \\> Indian name was A£usketaquid. On account of the peaceable manner in which it was obtained, by purchase, of the aborigines, in 1685, it was named Concord. At the north end of the broad street, or com- mon, is the house of Colonel Daniel Shattuck, a part <>f which, built in 177 1, was use I a- our ( »t' the depositories of Btores when ih»- British invasion took place. It has been so much altered, that a view of it would have but little interesl as representing a relic of the past 10. Tli-- road between Concord and Lexington i>a-s<-.> through a hilly l»ut fertile country. It is easy for the traveller to conceive how terribly a retreating army might be galled bj the lire of a concealed enemy. Hills and hillocks, some wooded, some hare, rise up everywhere, and formed natural breast-works of protection to the skirmishers that hung upon the flank and rear of Colonel Smith'.- troops. The road enters Lexington at the green whereon the old meeting-house stood when the battle occurred. 11. The town is upon a line rolling plain, and is becoming almost a suburban residence for citizen- of Boston. Workmen were enclosing the green, and laying out the grounds in handsome plats around the monument, which stands a few yards from the street. It is upon a spacious mound; its material is granite, and it has a marble tablet on the south front of the pedestal, with a long inscription.* The design of the monument is not at all * The following is a copy of the inscription : "Sacred to the Liberty and the Rights of Mankind ! ! ! The Freedom and Independence of America; sealed and defended with the blood of her sons. This monument is erected by the Inhabitants of Lexington, under the patronage and at the expense of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, to the memory of their Fellow-citizen-:, Ensign Hubert Monroe. Mei-srs. COBB'S SPEAKEE. 173 graceful ; and, being surrounded by tall trees, it has a very "dumpy n appearance. The people are dissatisfied with it, and doubtless, ere long, a more noble structure will mark the spot where the curtain of the revolutionary drama was first lifted. 12. After making the drawings here given, I visited and made the sketch of " Clark's House." There I found a remarkably intel- ligent old lady, Mrs. Margaret Chandler, aged eighty-three years. She has been an occupant of the house, I believe, ever since the Revolution, and has a perfect recollection of the events of the period. Her version of the escape of Hancock and Adams is a little different from the published accounts. 13. She says that on the evening of the 18th of April, 1*7 7 5, some British officers, who had been informed where these patriots were, came to Lexington, and inquired of a woman whom they met, for " Mr. Clark's house." She pointed to the parsonage ; but in a moment, suspecting their design, she called to them and in- quired if it was Clark's tavern that they were in search of. 14. Uninformed whether it was a tavern or parsonage where their intended victims were staying, and supposing the former to be the most likely place, the officers replied, " Yes, Clark's tavern." " Oh," she said, " Clark's tavern is in that direction," pointing towards East Lexington. As soon as they departed, the woman hastened to inform the patriots of their danger, and they immediately Jonas Parker, Samuel Hadley, Jonathan Harrington, Jun., Isaac Muzzy, Calel» Harrington, and John Brown, of Lexington, and Asahel Porter, of Woburn, who fell on this Field, the first victims of the Sword of British Tyranny and Oppression, on the morning of the ever-memorable Nine- teenth of April, An. Dom. 1775. The Die was Cast!!! The blood of these Martyrs in the Cause of God and their Country was the Cement of the Union of these States, then Colonies, and gave the Spring to the Spirit, Firmness, and Resolution of their Fellow-citizens. They rose as one man to revenge their Brethren's blood, and at the point of the Sword to assert and defend their native Bights. They nobly dared to be Free ! ! ! The contest was long, bloody, and affecting. Righteous Heaven approved the Solemn Appeal ; Victory crowned their Arms, and the Peace, Liberty, and Independence of the United States of America was their glorious Reward. Built in the year 1799." 174 COBB'S SPEAKER. arose and fled to Woburn. Dorothy Quincy, the intended wife of Hancock, who was at Mr. Clark's, accompanied them in their flight 15. I next called upon the venerable Abijah Harrington, who was living in the village. IJ<^ was a lad of fourteen at the time of the engagement Two of hie brothers were among the minute men, but escaped unhurt. Jonathan and Caleb Harrington, near relatives, were killed. The former was shot in front of his own house, while his wife stood at the window in an agony of alarm. She aaw her husband fall, and then start up, the blood gwshing from his breast Hie stretched out his arms towards her, and then f. 11 again. Upon his hands and knees he crawled towards his dwelling, and expired just as his wife reached him. 16. Caleb Harrington was shot while running from the meeting- house. My informant saw almost the whole of the battle, having been sent by his mother to go near enough, and be safe, to obtain and convey to her information respecting her other sons, who were with the minute men. His relation of the incidents of the morning was substantially such as history has recorded. He dwelt upon the subject with apparent delight, for his memory of the scenes of his early years, around which cluster so much of patriotism and glory, was clear and full. 17. I would gladly have listened until twilight to the voice of such experience ; but, time was precious, and I hastened to East Lexington, to visit his cousin Jonathan Harrington, an old man of ninety who played the fife, when the minute men were marshalled on the green, upon that memorable April morning. He was splitting firewood in his yard with a vigorous hand when I rode up ; and, as he sat in his rocking-chair, while I sketched his placid features, he appeared no older than a man of seventy. 18. His brother, aged eighty -eight, came in before my sketch was finished, and I could not but gaze with wonder upon these strong old men, children of one mother, who were almost grown to manhood when the first battle of our Revolution occurred ! Frugality and temperance, co-operating with industry, a cheerful temper, and a good constitution, have lengthened their days, and COBB'S SPEAKER. 175 made their protracted years hopeful and happy. The aged fifer apologized for the rough appearance of his signature, which he kindly wrote for me, and charged the tremulous motion of his hand to his labor with the axe. How tenaciously we cling even to the appearance of vigor, when the whole frame is tottering to its fall ! 19. Mr. Harrington opened the ball of the Revolution with the shrill war-notes of the fife, and then retired from the arena. He was not a soldier in the war, nor has his life, passed in the quietude of rural pursuits, been distinguished, except by the glorious acts which constitute the sum of the achievements of a good citizen. LESSON LIV. 1. " Let not your heart be troubled," though deep within your soul, From the ocean of affliction, wave after wave may roll ; Though when each mighty billow, with its fearful weight is Around thy heart spray after spray, may linger to the last, u Let not your heart be troubled !" believe in God and Me ; Be not afraid : a peace I give, My peace I leave with thee. " Let not your heart be troubled," though the beautiful must die ; Though the form so loved and cherished, cold in the grave must lie ; " Let not your heart be troubled," for my Father's house is fair, And for you within its mansions a place I will prepare ! Then the ruby lip may fade away, the brilliant eye grow dim, While the spirit of the loved and lost may find a home with Him. 176 COBB'S SPEAKER. 3. " Let not your heart be troubled," though the world MKD eold to thee, Though the glances of affection, you never more may Remember, there is One od nigh, who counts each step yon take, And though the world should leave you, He never will fotake. u Let not your bearl be troubled," then, submit bul to Hii will, He'll never leave you comfortless, Be will be with you Mill. 4. "Let not your bear! be troubled," when you bid the earth I by; When folded in the snow-white Bhroud, low in th<- grave you lie! Your bouI may pierce the pearly gates, the golden streets may tread, Joined to the band of harpers, though numbered with the ead. •• f. ; not your heart be troubled," then, the grave bul leads to bfe, And where I am. My ehosen ones for evermore may be. LESSON LV. THE GOODNESS OF CHUMTY. BIBLE. 1. Though T speak with th< j tongues of men and of angels, and have not chanty, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. 2. And (hough I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not chanty. I am nothing. 3. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burnt, and have not charity, it profit* eth me nothing. COBB'S SPEAKER. 177 4. Charity suffereth long, and is kind ; charity envieth not ; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil ; 5. Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, en- dureth all things. 6. Charity never faileth : but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail ; whether there be tongues, they shall cease ; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. 7. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part ; But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. 8. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child ; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. 9. For now we see through a glass, darkly ; but then face to face : now I know in part ; but then shall I know even as also I am known. 10. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three ; but the greatest of these is charity. LESSON LVI. GOVERNMENTS OF WILL, AND GOVERNMENTS OF LAW. WAYLAND. 1. The various forms of government under which society has existed, may, with sufficient accuracy, be reduced to two ; govern- ments of will, and governments of law. 2. A government of will supposes that there are created two classes of society, the rulers and the ruled, each possessed of dif- ferent and very dissimilar rights. It supposes all power to be vest- ed, by divine appointment, in the hands of the rulers ; that they alone may say under what form of governments the people shall 178 COBB'S SPEAKER. live; that law g other than ai tlu-ir will ; and that it is the ordinance of heaven that such a const ituti on should continue un< ; the remoi : and that to all thk ,d implicit ■ 3. Thm -ngress of 9 bich has been - i Jl Alliance: " All useful and necessary changes ought only -will and intelligent co n viction of (bote, whom Yd are well aware, that on principles such as these rest most of the governments of continental Eur 4. 1 nt of law re-ls on principles precisely th verse of all this. It supposes that ti. class of society, and that t: '■■: that all men ar..- created atraal, and, there! ivil in>titutions are voluntary a-vx.iati' which the sole object should be t<; promote the happiness of the have a | that form of governm I which they shall live, and to mod- ify it, at a: .all think desirable. 5. Supposing all p :;i the people, it considers the authority of rulers purely a authority, to be in all cases ac- _ to a written cod is nothing more than an authentic e\ .ill. It teaches that the ruler is nothing more than the intelligent organ of en- lightened public opinion, and declares that, if he ceases to be so, he shall be a ruler no loi _ C. Under sneh a government may it with truth be said of Law, that - I - the bosom" of the people, " her voice the harmony" of society; "all men, in even- station, do her reverence; the v>-ry lea-t as feeling her care, and the very great I exempted from her power ; and, though each in different sort and manner, yet all with uniform consent, admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy." I need not add, that our own Is an illustrio- ample of the government of law. 7. Blow which of these two is the right notion of government, I need not stay to inquire. It is sufficient for my purpose to re- COBB'S SPEAKER. 179 mark, that, whenever men have become enlightened by the gen- eral diffusion of intelligence, they have universally preferred the government of law. The doctrines of what has been called legiti- macy have not been found to stand the scrutiny of unrestrained examination. And, besides this, the love of power is as insepara- ble from the human bosom as the love of life. 8. Hence, men will never rest satisfied with any civil institu- tions, which confer exclusively upon a part of society that power, which they believe should justly be vested in the whole ; and hence it is evident, that no government can be secure from the effects of increasing intelligence, which is not conformed in its principles to the nature of the human heart, and which does n~t provide for the exercise of this principle, so inseparable from the nature of man. LESSON LVII. THE NATIONAL CHARACTER. GENERAL HAYNE. SOUTHERN REVIEW. 1. It is due to the country, that not a single trophy of the rev- olution should be suffered to be destroyed ; and, we should be sorry to see recorded on one of them, the memorable inscription on the beautiful naval monument in Washington, " mutilated by Britons." We would, if we could, preserve them all, in their sim- ple majesty and beauty, to kindle in the bosom of our American youth, to the latest posterity, the sacred glow of patriotism. We have always considered the moral and political lessons, taught by the history of the revolution, as the most precious inheritance de- rived from our fathers. 2. The exploits of our heroes, the wisdom of our statesmen, con- stitute a portion of our national wealth, which, we had fondly hoped, would have withstood the assaults of time itself. If we were called upon to decide by what measures those who live in the present age could confer the greatest blessings on posterity, 180 conn's SPEAK E& we sh >uld Bay, without hesitation, by leaving behind them those great examples of wisdom and of virtue, which are the moat endu- ring monuments of national greatness. 3. To the youth of any country, and especially of a free country , what incentive to noble actions can be offered, equal to the exam- ples of the poets, orators, statesmen, and warriors, who have im- mortalized the country which gave them birth, and adorned the age in which they lived It is not, therefore, without feelm mortification and regret, thai we have witnessed, of late years, re- peated attempts to Btrip from American history some of the most brilliant trophies of the revolution. i. It may 1"' true, that our history, like all others, is u of a mingled yam of truth and falsehood ;'* but, we fear that any per- son who employs him-. -If. at this day, in picking out the threads, will impair the beauty, if 1m- does do1 destroy the strength of the fabric. I; is too late now, to make a fresh distribution of the hon- ors awarded by their cotemporaries to the worthies of the revolution. 5. The partners of their toils (he very witnesses of their ex- ploits, are slumbering in the dust; and, we may be assured, that, if with th<' feeble and glimmering lights we now possess, we at- tempt to correct the supposed errors in our revolutionary history, we shall leave it much more imperfect than we found it. 6. Let all Americans, therefore, unite in guarding the fair fame of tin- patriots and sages, whose names are embalmed in our his- tory, as we would guard tin- bones of our fathers. Let the chap- let which o-ratitude has bound around their brows, be as enduring as the blessings we owe to their exertions. LESSON LVIIL THE COUNTRY CHURCH. IRVING. 1. I was as yet a stranger in England, and curious to notice the manners of its fashionable classes. I found, as usual, that there was the least pretension where there was the most acknowledged COBB'S SPEAKER. 181 title to respect. I was particularly struck, for instance, with the family of a nobleman of high rank, consisting of several sons and daughters. Nothing could be more simple and unassuming than their appearance. They generally came to church in the plainest equipage, and often on foot. 2. The young ladies would stop and converse in the kindest manner with the peasantry, caress the children, and listen to the stories of the humble cottagers. Their countenances were open and beautifully fair, with an expression of high refinement, but, at the same time, a frank cheerfulness, and an engaging affability. Their brothers were tall, and elegantly formed. They were dressed fashionably, but simply ; with strict neatness and propriety, but without any mannerism or foppishness. Their whole demeanor was easy and natural, with that lofty grace, and noble frankness, which bespeak free-born souls that have never been checked in their growth by feelings of inferiority. 3. There is a healthful hardiness about real dignity, that never dreads contact and communion with others, however humble. It is only spurious pride that is morbid and sensitive, and shrinks from every touch. I was pleased to see the manner in which they would converse with the peasantry about those rural concerns and field-sports, in which the gentlemen of this country so much delight. In these conversations there was neither haughtiness on the one part, nor servility on the other ; and you were only re- minded of the difference of rank by the habitual respect of the peasant. 4. In contrast to these was the family of a wealthy citizen, who had amassed a vast fortune ; and, having purchased the estate and mansion of a ruined nobleman in the neighborhood, was endeavoring to assume all the style and dignity of an heredi- tary lord of the soil. The family always came to church en prince. They were rolled majestically along in a carriage emblazoned with arms. The crest glittered in silver radiance from every part of the harness where a crest could possibly be placed. 5. A fat coachman, in a three-cornered hat, richly laced, and a flaxen wig, curling close around his rosy face, was seated on the 182 COBB'S SPEAKER. box, with a sleek Danish dog beside him. Two footmen, in gorgeous liveries, with huge boquets, and gold-headed canes, lolled behind. The carriage rose and sunk on its long springs with peculiar stateliness of motion. The very horses champed their bits, arched their necks, and glanced their eyes more proudly than common horses ; either because they had caught a little of the family feeling, or were reined up more tightly than ordinary. G. I could not but admire the style with which this splendid pageant was brought up to the gate of the chnreh-yard. There was a vast effect produced at the turning of an angle of the wall ; a great smacking of the whin, Btraining and scrambling of horses, glistening of harness, and flashing of wheels through gravel. This was the moment of triumph and vain-glory to the coachman. The horses were urged and checked until they were betted into a foam. They threw out their feet in a prancing trot, dashing out pebbles at every step. The crowd of villagers sauntering quietly to church, opened precipitately to the right and left, gaping in vacant admiration. On reaching the gate, the horses were pulled up with a suddenness that produced an immediate stop, and almost threw them on their haunches. V. There was an extraordinary hurry of the footman to alight, pull down the steps, and prepare every thing for the descent on earth of this august family. The old citizen first emerged his round, red face out of the door, looking about him with the pompous air of a man accustomed to rule on 'Change, and shake the Stock Market with a nod. 8. His consort, a fine, fleshy, comfortable dame, followed him. There seemed, I must confess, but little pride in her composition. She was the picture of broad, honest, vulgar enjoyment. The world went well with her ; and she liked the world. She had fine clothes, a fine house, a fine carriage, fine children, every thing was fine about her : it was nothing but driving about ; and visiting and feasting. Life was to her a perpetual revel ; it was one long Lord Mayor's day. 9. Two daughters succeeded to this goodly couple. They cer- tainly were handsome, but had a supercilious air, that chilled COBB'S SPEAKER. 183 admiration, and disposed the spectator to be critical. They were ultra fashionable in dress; and, though no one could deny the richness of then* decorations, yet their appropriateness might be questioned amidst the simplicity of a country church. They de- scended loftily from the carriage, and moved up the line of peasantry with a step that seemed dainty of the soil it trod on. They cast an excursive glance around, that passed coldly over the burly faces of the peasantry, until they met the eyes of the noble- man's family, when their countenances immediately brightened into smiles, and they made the most profound and elegant courtesies, which were returned in a manner that showed they were but slight acquaintances. 10. I must not forget the two sons of this aspiring citizen, who came to church in a dashing curricle, with out-riders. They were arrayed in the extremity of the mode, with all that pedantry of dress which marks the man of questionable pretensions to style. They kept entirely by themselves, eying every one askance that came near them, as if measuring his claims to respectability ; yet they were without conversation, except the exchange' of an occa- sional cant phrase. They even moved artificially ; for their bodies, in compliance with the caprice of the day, had been disciplined into the absence of all ease and freedom. Art had done every thing to accomplish them as men of fashion, but nature had de- nied them the nameless grace. They were vulgarly shaped, like men formed for the common purposes of life, and had that air of supercilious assumption which is never seen in the true gentleman. 11. I have been rather minute in drawing the pictures of these two families, because I considered them specimens of what is often to be met with in this country ; the unpretending great, and the arrogant little. I have no respect for titled rank, unless it be ac- companied with true nobility of soul ; but I have remarked in all countries where artificial distinctions exist, that the very highest classes are always the most courteous^ and unassuming. Those who are well- assured of their own standing are least apt to tres- pass on that of others : whereas, nothing is so offensive as the as- 184 COBB'S SPEAKER. pirings of vulgarity, which thinks to elevate itself by humiliating its neighbor. 12. As 1 have brought these families into contrast, I most no- tice their behavior in church. That of the nobleman's family was quiet, serious, and attentive. Not thai they appeared to have any fervor of devotion, but rather a reaped for sacred things, and sa- cred places, inseparable from good breeding. The others, on the contrary, were in a perpetual flutter and whisper. They betrayed a continual consciousness of finery, and a sorry ambition of being the wonders of a rural congregation. 13. The old gentleman was the only one really attentive to the service Be took the whole burden of family devotion upon him- self, standing bolt upright, and uttering the responses with a bud voice that might be heard all over the church. It was evident that he was one of those thorough church and king men, who connect the idea of devotion and loyalty; who consider the Deity, somehow or other, of the government party, and religion "a very excellent sort of thin--, that ought to bo countenanced and kept ii]'/' 14. When he joined so loudly in the service, it seemed more by way of example to the lower orders, to show them that, though bo great and wealthy, he was not above being religious; as I have seen a turtle-fed alderman swallow publicly a basin of charity soup, smacking his lips at every mouthful, and pronouncing it "excel- lent food for the poor." 15. When the service was at an end, I was curious to witness the several exits of my groups. The young noblemen and their sisters, as the day was fine, preferred strolling home across the fields, chatting with the country people as they went. The others departed as they came ; in grand parade. Again were the equi- pages wheeled up to the gate. There was again the smacking of whips, the clattering of hoofs, and the glittering of harness. The horses started. off almost at a bound; the villagers again hurried to right and left; the wheels threw up a cloud of dust, and the aspiring family was rapt out of sight in a whirlwind. COBB'S SPEAKER. 185 LESSON LIX. THE HOUR OF DEATH. MRS. HEMANS. 1. Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set ; but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death ! 2. Day is for mortal care, Eve for glad meetings round the joyous hearth, Night for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer ; But all for thee, thou mightiest of the earth ! 3. Youth and the opening rose May look like things too glorious for decay, And smile at thee ; but thou art not of those That wait the ripened bloom to seize their prey ! 4. We know when moons shall wane, When summer-birds from far shall cross the sea, When autumn's hue shall tinge the golden grain ; But who shall teach us when to look for thee ? 5. Is it when spring's first gale Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie ? Is it when roses in our paths grow pale \ They have one season ; all are ours to die ! 6. Thou art where billows foam ; Thou art where music melts upon the air ; Thou art around us in our peaceful home ; And the world calls us forth, and thou art there ; 1. Thou art where friend meets friend, Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest ; Thou art where foe meets foe, and trumpets rend The skies, and swords beat down the princely crest ! 186 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON LX. CHARACTER OF THE PURITANS. MACAULAY. 1. The Puritans WOW men whose minds had derived I peculiar character from the daily contemplation of superior being! and eter- nal interests. Not content with acknowledging, in genera] terms, an overruling Providence, they habitually ascribed every event to the will of the Great Being, for whose power nothing was too mat, for whose inspection nothing was too minute. To know him, to serve him, to enjoy him, was with them the great end of existence. They rejected with contempt the ceremonious homage which other sects substituted for the pure worship of the soul. 2. Instead of catching occasional glimpses of the Deity through an obscuring veil, they aspired to gaze full on the intolerable brightness, and to commune with him face to face. Hence origi- nated their contempt for terrestrial distinctions. The dinvrence be- I w. ii the greatest and meanest of mankind seemed to vanish, when compared with the boundless interval which separated the whole race from him on whom their own eyes were constantly fixed. They recognised no title to superiority but his favor; and, confi- dent of that favor, they despised all the accomplishments and all the dignities of the world. 3. If they were unacquainted with the works of philosophers and poets, they were deeply read in the oracles of God. If their names were not found in the registers of heralds, they felt assured that they were recorded in the Book of Life. If their steps were not accompanied by a splendid train of menials, legions of minis- tering angels had charge over them. Their palaces were houses not made with hands : their diadems crowns of glory which should never fade away ! On the rich and the eloquent, on nobles and priests, they looked down with contempt ; for they esteemed them- selves rich in a more precious treasure, and eloquent in a more sublime language ; nobles by the right of an earlier creation, and priests by the imposition of a mightier hand. 4. The very meanest of them was a being to whose fate a myste- COBB'S SPEAKER. 187 rious and terrible importance belonged ; on whose slightest action the spirits of light and darkness looked with anxious interest ; who had been destined, before heaven and earth were created, to enjoy a felicity which should continue when heaven and earth should have passed away. Events which short-sighted politicians ascribed to earthly causes had been ordained on his account. For his sake empires had risen, and flourished and decayed. 5. For his sake the Almighty had proclaimed his will by the pen of the evangelist, and the harp of the prophet. He had been rescued by no common deliverer, from the grasp of no common foe. He had been ransomed by the sweat of no vulgar agony, by the blood of no earthly sacrifice. It was for him that the sun had been darkened, that the rocks had been rent, that the dead had arisen, that all nature had shuddered at the sufferings of her ex- piring God ! 6. Thus the Puritan was made up of two different men ; the one, all self-abasement, penitence, gratitude, passion ; the other, proud, calm, inflexible, sagacious. He prostrated himself in the dust be- fore his Maker ; but he set his foot on the neck of his king. In his devotional retirement, he prayed with convulsions, and groans, and tears. He was half maddened by glorious or terrible illusions. He heard the lyres of angels, or the tempting whispers of fiends. He caught a gleam of the Beatific Vision, or awoke screaming from dreams of everlasting fire. 7. Like Yane, he thought himself intrusted with the sceptre of the millennial year. Like Fleetwood, he cried in the bitterness of his soul that God had hid his face from him. But, when he took his seat in the council, or girt on his sword for war, these tempes- tuous workings of the soul had left no perceptible trace behind them. People who saw nothing of the godly but their uncouth visages, and heard nothing from them but their groans and their whining hymns, might laugh at them. But those had little reason to laugh, who encountered them in the hall of debate, or in the field of battle. 8. The Puritans brought to civil and military affairs a coolness of judgment, and an immutability of purpose, which some writers 188 COBB'S SPEAKER. have thought inconsistent with their religious zeal, but which were, in fact, the necessary effects of it. The intensity of their feelings on one subject made them tranquil on every other. One over- powering sentiment had subjected to itself pity and hatred, ambi- tion and fear. Death had Lost its terrors, and pleasure its charms. They had their smiles and their tears, their raptures and their sor- rows, but n< .t for the things of this world '.i. Enthusiasm had made them stoics, had cleared their minds from every vulgar passion and prejudice, and raised then above the influence of danger and of corruption. It sometimes might lead them to pursue IWwise ends, but never to choose unwise means. They went through the world like sir Artegale'i iron man Talus with his flail, crushing and trampling down oppr mingling with human beings, but having neither part nor lot in human infirmities; insensible to fatigue, to pleasure, and to pain; ami not to be pierced by any weapon, not to be withstood by any barrier. 10. Such we believe to have been the character of the Puritans. We perceive the absurdity of their manners. We di>like the sul- len -loom of their domestic habits. We acknowledge that the tone of their minds was often injured by straining after things too high for mortal reach. LESSON LXI. EXTRACT FROM THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPLORING EXPEDITION TO THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. CAPT. FREMONT. 1. Dec. 14. Our road was over a broad mountain, and we rode seven hours in a thick snow-storm, always through pine forests, when we came down upon the head waters of another stream, on which there was grass. The snow lay deep on the ground, and only the high swamp grass appeared above. The Indians were thinly clad, and I had remarked during the day that they suffered from the cold. COBB'S SPEAKER. 189 2. This evening, they told me that the snow was getting too deep on the mountain, and I could not induce them to go any farther. The stream we had struck issued from the mountain in an easterly direction, turning to the southward a short distance below ; and, drawing its course upon the ground, they made us comprehend that it pursued its way for a. long distance in that direction, uniting with many other streams, and gradually be- coming a great river. 3. Without the subsequent information, which confirmed the opinion, we became immediately satisfied that this water formed the principal stream of the Sacramento river ; and, consequently, that this main affluent of the bay of San Francisco had its source within the limits of the United States, and opposite a tributary to the Columbia, and near the head of the Tlamath river ; which goes to the ocean north of 42°, and within the United States. 4. Dec. 15. A present, consisting of useful goods, afforded much satisfaction to our guides ; and, showing them the national flag, I explained that it was a symbol of our nation ; and they engaged always to receive it in a friendly manner. The chief pointed out a course, by following which we would arrive at the bio- water, where no more snow was to be found. Travelling in a direction, IS". 60° E. by compass, which the Indians informed me would avoid a bad mountain to the right, we crossed the Sacra- mento where it turned to the southward, and entered a grassy level plain ; a smaller Grand Rond ; from the lower end of which the river issued into an inviting country of low rolling hills. 5. Crossing a hard-frozen swamp on the farther side of the Rond, we entered again the pine forest, in which very deep snow made our travelling slow and laborious. We were slowly but gradually ascending a mountain ; and, after a hard journey of seven hours, we came to some naked places among the timber, where a few tufts of grass showed above the snow, on the side of a hollow ; and here we encamped. Our cow, which every day became poorer, was killed here, but the meat was rather tough. 6. Dec. 16. We travelled, this morning, through snow about three feet deep, which, being crusted, very much cut the feet of 190 COBB'S SPEAKER. our animals. The mountain still gradually rose ; we ci several spring-heads covered with quaking asp ; otherwise it was all pine forest. The air was dark with falling snow, which every- where weighed down the trees. The depths of the forest were profoundly still; and below, we scarcely felt a breath of the wind which whirled the snow through their branches. 7. I found that it required some exertion of constancy to adhere steadily to one course through the woods, when we were uncertain how for the forest extended, or what lay beyond ; and, on account of our animals, it would be bad to spend another night on the mountain. Towards noon the forest looked clear ahead, appear- ing suddenly to terminate; and, beyond a certain point we could see no trees. 8. Riding rapidly ahead to this spot, we found onnelret on the verge of a vertical and rocky wall of the mountain. At our feet, more than a thousand feet below, we looked into a green prairie country, in which a beautiful lake, some twenty miles in length, was spread along the foot of the mountains, its shores bordered with green grass. Just then the sun broke out among the clouds, and illuminated the country below, while around us the storm raged fiercely. 9. Not a particle of ice was to be seen on the lake, or snow on its borders, and all was like summer or spring. The glow of the sun in the valley below brightened up our hearts with sudden pleasure ; and we made the woods ring with joyful shouts to those behind ; and gradually, as each came up, he stopped to enjoy the unexpected scene. Shivering on snow three feet deep, and stiffen- ing in a cold north wind, we exclaimed at once that the names of Summer Lake and Winter Ridge should be applied to these two proximate places of such sudden and violent contrast. 10. We were now immediately on the verge of the forest land, in which we had been travelling so many days ; and, looking for- ward to the east, scarce a tree was to be seen. Viewed from our elevation, the face of the country exhibited only rocks and grass, and presented a region in which the artemisia became the princi- pal wood, furnishing to its scattered inhabitants fuel for their fires, COBB'S SPEAKER. 191 building material for their huts, and shelter for the small game which ministers to their hunger and nakedness. 11. Broadly marked by the boundary of the mountain-wall, and immediately below us, were the first waters of that Great in- terior Basin which has the Wahsatch and Bear river mountains for its eastern, Sierra Nevada for its western rim ; and the edge of which we had entered upwards of three months before, at the Great Salt lake. 12. When we had sufficiently admired the scene below, we began to think about descending, which here was impossible, and we turned towards the north, travelling always along the rocky wall. We continued on for four or five miles, making ineffectual attempts at several places ; and at length, succeeded in getting down at one which was extremely difficult of descent. 13. Night had closed in before the foremost reached the bot- tom ; and, it was dark before we all found ourselves together in the valley. There were three or four half dead, dry cedar-trees on the shore, and those who first arrived kindled bright fires to light on the others. One of the mules rolled over and over two or three hundred feet into a ravine, but recovered himself, without any other injury than to his pack ; and, the howitzer was left mid-way the mountain until morning. By observation, the lati- tude of this encampment is 42° 51 ' 22". 14. It delayed us until near noon the next day to recover our- selves and put every thing in order ; and, we made only a short camp along the western shore of the lake, which, in the summer temperature we enjoyed to-day, justified the name we had given it. Our course would have taken us to the other shore, and over the highlands beyond ; but, I distrusted the appearance of the country, and decided to follow a plainly beaten Indian trail lead- ing along this side of the lake. We were now in a country where the scarcity of water and of grass makes travelling dangerous, and great caution was necessary. 192 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON LX II. BRAIN WORE A.ND HAND WORK. — CHABU 1. In ;i garret cold and dreary Sat a laborer deep in thought, And hi- brow looked worn and weary, A- though hardly In- had wrought; And I watched liis throbbing brain. Like a wild bird t<> !>•• free, (Struggling to fly back again To ii liberty ; And the muscles and the fibres, And the flesh upon the bone, Like a ma-- of burning embers Self-consumingly they shone. 2. And 1 turned my vision backward To ili.' ncenes of other d AYliil.- the Bword within the scabbard Of tb«- mind yet feebly lays ; Ere tip' boy, grown into manhood, Felt tip- cravings of his soul, Ere keen hunger shivering stood On his threshold crying fool/ For the midnight oil he'd wasted Scanning books o'er page by page, For neglect of luxuries tasted In this money-making age. 3. And I saw an infant sleeping, Softly pillowed by the side Of a widowed mother weeping, Fearing death might take its guide, And to stranger hands and cold Leave the darling of her heart ; COBB'S SPEAKER. 193 To the swearer ; to the scold ; 'Mid the rocks without a chart ; God of mercy ! help the helpless, Teach them how to earn their bread ; Oh ! to trust alone, 'tis madness, To the labor of the head. 4. By the willing arm that fails not, By the workings of the hand, In this free and hallowed spot, In this great and mighty land, Where before us rivers deep, Forests wide and mountains high, Where, beneath the rocky steep, Treasures all exhaustless lie ; By a will of stern resolve, Making all things own his sway, Man may thus the mystery solve How to live ; while live he may. 5. Not to fling away existence, Toiling early, toiling late, Not to succumb for subsistence, Calling penury your fate. Brain alone will not support thee, Trace the history of the past ; Study well and study deeply, You will find the truth at last. Brain and Hand and Hand and Brain, Let each urge the other on, And, the dollars shall again Reward thee when thy work is done. 9 194 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON LXIII. WASHINGTON IN RETIREMENT. SPARKS. 1. No part of Washington's career commands more admiration than his private life, after he bad retired from the Presidency of the United States. Having served his country as a soldier and a chief magistrate, lie had yet something to do : to set a great and noble example in the rarrender of power and personal ambition. 2. The following passages will show, that in this, as in every thing else, he seems to be superior to almost all other men. Being established again at Mount Vernon, and freed from public toils and cares, Washington returned to the same habits of life and the same pursuits, which he had always practised at that place. 3. In writing to a friend, a few weeks after his return, he said, that he began his daily course with the rising of the sun, and first made preparations for the business of the day. "By the time I have accomplished these matters," he adds, " breakfast is ready. This being over, I mount my horse and ride around my farms, which employs me until it is time to dress for dinner, at which I rarely miss seeing strange faces, come, as they say, out of respect for me. 4. ' ; The usual time of sitting at table, a walk and tea, bring me within the dawn of candlelight ; previous to which, if not pre- vented by company, I resolve, that as soon as the glimmering taper supplies the place of the great luminary, I will retire to my writing-table, and acknowledge the letters I have received. Having given you this history of a day, it will serve for a year." 5. And in this manner a year passed away, and with no other variety than that of the change of visiters, who came from all parts, to pay their respects, or gratify their curiosity. The feelings of Washington on being relieved from the solicitude and burdens of office, were forcibly expressed in letters to his friends. 6. " At length," said he, in writing to Lafayette, " I am become a private citizen, on the banks of the Potomac ; and, under the COBB'S SPEAKER. 195 shadow of my own vine and fig-tree, free from the bustle of a camp, and the busy scenes of public life, I am solacing myself with those tranquil enjoyments, of which the soldier, who is ever in pursuit of fame, the statesman, whose watchful days and sleep- less nights are spent in devising schemes to promote the welfare of his own, perhaps the ruin of other countries, as if this globe was insufficient for us all, and the courtier, who is always watching the countenance of his prince, in hopes of catching a gracious smile, can have very little conception. 1. " I have not only retired from all public employments, but I am retiring within myself, and shall be able to view the solitary walk, and tread the paths of private life, with heart-felt satisfaction. Envious of none, I am determined to be pleased with all ; and this, my dear friend, being the order of my march, I will move gently down the stream of life, until I sleep with my fathers." THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON. 1. Disturb not his slumber, let "Washington sleep, 'Neath the boughs of the willow that over him weep ; His arm is unnerved, but his deeds remain bright As the stars in the dark vaulted heaven at night. 2. Oh ! wake not the hero, his battles are o'er, Let him rest undisturbed on Potomac's fair shore ; On the river's green border as flowery dressed, With the hearts he loved fondly, let Washington rest. 3. Awake not his slumbers, tread lightly around, 'Tis the grave of a freeman, 'tis liberty's mound ; The name is immortal ; our freedom is won ; Brave sire of Columbia, our own Washington. 4. Oh ! wake not the hero, his battles are o'er, Let him rest, calmly rest, on his dear native shore ; While the stars and the stripes of our country shall wave, O'er the land that can boast of a Washington's Grave. 196 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON LXIV. THE FORMER AND PRESENT CONDITION OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK. BANCROFT. 1. Sombre forests shed a melancholy grandeur over the m magnificence of nature, and hid in their deep shades the rich soil which the sun had never warmed. No axe bad levelled the giant progeny of the crowded groves, in which the fantastic forms of withered limbs, thai had been blasted and riven by lightning, con- trasted Btrangely with the verdant freshness of a younger growth of branches. 2. The wanton grape-vine, seeming by its own power to have sprung from the earth, and to haw fastened it- leafy colli on the top of the tallest forest-tree, swung in the air with every breeze, like the loosened shrouds of a ship. Trees might every where be seen breaking from their root in the marshy soil, and threatening to fall with the first rude gust ; while the ground was strown with the ruins of former forests, over which a profusion of wild flowers wasted their freshness in mockery of the gloom. 3. Reptiles sported in the stagnant pools, or crawled unharmed over piles of mouldering trees. The spotted deer crouched among the thickets ; but not to hide, for there was no pursuer ; and, there were none but wild animals to crop the uncut herbage of the pro- ductive prairies. Silence reigned, broken, it may have been, by the flight of land-birds or the flapping of water-fowls, and rendered more dismal by the howl of beasts of prey. 4. The streams, not yet limited to a channel, spread over sand- bars, tufted with copses of willow r , or waded through wastes of reeds. The smaller brooks spread out into sedgy swamps that were overhung by clouds of moschetoes ; masses of decaying vege- tation fed the exhalations with the seeds of pestilence, and made the balmy air of the summer's evening as deadly as it seemed grateful. Vegetable life and death were mingled hideously to- gether. The horrors of corruption frowned on the fruitless fertility of uncultivated nature. COBB'S SPEAKER. 197 5. And man, the occupant of the soil, was wild as the savage scene, in harmony with the rude nature by which he was sur- rounded ; a vagrant over the continent, in constant warfare with his fellow-man ; the bark of the birch his canoe ; strings of shells his ornaments, his record, and his coin ; the roots of the forest among his resources for food ; his knowledge in architecture sur- passed both in strength and durability by the skill of the beaver ; drifts of forest-leaves his couch ; mats of bulrushes his protection against the winter's cold ; his religion the adoration of nature ; his morals the promptings of undisciplined instinct ; disputing with the wolves and bears the lordship of the soil, and dividing with the squirrel the wild fruits, with which the universal woodland abounded. 6. How changed is the scene from that on which Hudson gazed ! The earth glows with the colors of civilization ; the banks of the streams are enamelled with richest grasses ; woodlands -and culti- vated fields are harmoniously blended ; the birds of spring find their delight in orchards and gardens, variegated with choicest plants from every temperate zone ; while the brilliant flowers of the tropics bloom from the windows of the green-house and the saloon. 7. The yeoman, living like a good neighbor near the fields he cultivates, glories in the fruitfulness of the valleys, and counts with honest exultation the flocks and herds that graze in safety on the hills. The thorn has given way to the rose-bush ; the cultivated vine clambers over rocks where the brood of serpents used to nes- tle ; while industry smiles at the changes she has wrought, and inhales the bland air which now has health on its wings. 8. Man is still in harmony with nature, which he has subdued, cultivated, and adorned. For him the rivers that flow to the re- motest climes, mingle their waters ; for him the lakes gain new outlets to the ocean ; for him the arch spans the flood, and science spreads iron pathways to the recent wilderness ; for him the hills yield, up the shining marble and the enduring granite ; for him the forests of the interior come down in immense rafts ; for him the marts of the city gather the produce of every clime, and libra- ries collect the works of genius of every language and every age. 19S COBB'S SPEAK K K. 9. The passions of society arc chastened into purity ; manners are made benevolent by civilization ; and the virtue of the country is the guardian of its peace. An active daily press, vigilant from party interests, free even to dissoluteness, watches the progress of society, and communicates every fact that can interest humanity ; the genius of letters begins to unfold his powers in the warm sun- shine of public favor. And while idle curiosity may take its walk in shady avenues by the ocean side, commerce pushes its wharves into the sea, blocks up the wide rivers with its fleets, and, sending its ships, the pride of naval architecture, to every clime, defies every wind, outrides every tempest, and invades every zone. LESSON LXV. EXTRACT FROM A FUNERAL ORATION ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL WASHINGTON. REV. DR. J. M. MA80N. 1. It must ever be difficult to compare the merits of Washing- ton'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 mag- nanimity. While others become great by elevation, Washington becomes greater by condescension. 2. Matchless patriot ! to stoop, on public motives, to an inferior appointment, after possessing and dignifying the highest offices ! Thrice-favored country, which boasts of such a citizen ! We gaze with astonishment ; we exult that we are Americans. We augur every thing great, and good, and happy. 3. 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 COBB'S SPEAKER. 199 erst prepared the festal bower and the laurel wreath, plant now the cypress-grove, and water it with tears. " How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished !" 4. The death of Washington, Americans, has revealed the extent of' our loss. It has given us the final proof that we never mistook him. Take his affecting testament, and read the secrets of his soul. Read all the power of domestic virtue. Read his strong love of letters and of liberty. Read his fidelity to republi- can principle, and his jealousy of national character. Read his devotedness to you in his military bequests to near relatives. " These swords," they are the words of Washington, " these swords are accompanied with an injunction not to unsheath them for the purpose of shedding blood, except it be for self-defence, or in de- fence of their country and its rights ; and, in the latter case, to keep them unsheathed, and prefer falling with them in their hands, to the relinquishment thereof." « 5. In his acts, Americans, you have seen the man. In the com- plicated excellence of character he stands alone. Let no future Plutarch attempt the iniquity of parallel. Let no soldier of for- tune ; let no usurping conqueror ; let not Alexander or Cesar ; let not Cromwell or Bonaparte ; let none among the dead or the liv- ing, appear in the same picture with Washington ; or let them appear as the shade to his light. On this subject, my country- men, it is for others to speculate, but it is for us to feel. Yet in proportion to the severity of the stroke ought to be our thankful- ness that it was not inflicted sooner. Through a long series of years has God preserved our Washington a public blessing ; and, now that he lias removed him for ever, shall we presume to say, What doest thou ? 6. Never did the tomb preach more powerfully the dependance of all things on the will of the Most High. The greatest of mor- tals crumble into dust the moment he commands, Return, ye chil- dren of men. Washington was but the instrument of a benignant God. He sickens, he dies, that we may learn not to trust in men, nor to make flesh our arm. But though Washington is dead, Je- hovah lives. God of our fathers ! be our God, and the God of 200 COBB'S SPEAKER. our children ! Thou art our refuge and our hope ; the pillar of our strength; the wall of our defence, and our unfading glory! Y.Americans! This God, who raised up Washington and gave you liberty, exacts from you the duty of cherishing it with a zeal according to knowledge. Never Bully, by apathy or by outrage, your fair inheritance, ltisk not, for one moment, on vis- ionary theories, the solid blessings of your lot. To you, particu- larly, youth of America ! applies the solemn charge. In all the perils of your country, remember Washington. Tin- freedom of reason and of right has been handed down to you on the point of the hero's s wo id. Guard with veneration the sacred deposite. The curse of ages will real upon yon, ( I youth of America! if ever you surrender to foreign ambition, or domestic lawlessness, the precious liberties for which Washington fought, and your fathers Wed. 8. I can not part with you, fellow-citizens, without urging the long remembrance of our present assembly. This day we wipe away the reproach of republics, that they know not how to be grateful. In your treatment of living patriots, recall your love and your regret of Washington. Lei not future inconsistency charge this day with hypocrisy. Happy America, if she gives an instance of universal principle in her sorrows for the man, "first in war, first in peace, and first in the affections of his country ! n LESSON LXVI. THE RIGHTS OF WOMEN. MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY. 1. There is much clamor in these days of progress, respecting a grant of new rights, or an extension of privileges for our sex. A powerful moralist has said, that " In contentions for power, both the philosophy and poetry of life are dropped and trodden down." Would not a still greater loss accrue to domestic happiness, and to COBB'S SPEAKEE. 201 the interests of well-balanced society, should the innate delicacy and prerogative of woman, as woman, be forfeited or sacrificed ? 2. " I have given her as a help meet," said the Voice that can not eiT, when it spake unto Adam, in the cool of the day, amidst the trees of Paradise. Not as a toy, a clog, a wrestler, a prize- fighter. No ; a help meet, such as was fitting for man to desire, and for woman to become. 3. Since the Creator has assigned different spheres of action for the different sexes, it is to be presumed, from His unerring wis- dom, that there is work enough in each department to employ them, and that the faithful performance of that work will be for the benefit of both. If he has made one the priestess of the inner temple, committing to her charge its sacred shrine, its unrevealed sanctities, why should she seek to mingle in the warfare that may thunder at its gates or rock its turrets ? Need she be again tempted by pride, or curiosity, or glowing words, to barter her own Eden ? 4. The true nobility of woman is to keep her own sphere, and to adorn it ; not like the comet, daunting and perplexing other systems, but as the pure star, which is the first to light the day, and the last to leave it. If she share not the fame of the ruler and the blood-shedder, her good works, such as " become those who profess godliness," though they leave no deep " foot-prints on the sands of time," may find record in the " Lamb's Book of Life." 5. Mothers ! are not our rights sufficiently extensive ; the sanc- tuary of home, the throne of the heart, the " moulding of the whole mass of mind in its formation ?" Have we not power enough in all realms of sorrow and suffering ; over all forms of ignorance and want ; amidst all ministrations of love from the cradle-dream to the sepulchre ? 6. So, let us be content and diligent ; ay, grateful and joyful, making this brief life a hymn of praise, until called to that choir which knows no discord, and whose melody is eternal. 202 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON LXVII. EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH OF PATRICK HENRY IN THE LEGISLATURE OF VIRGINIA, IN FAVOR OF PERMITTING THE BRITISH REFUGEES TO RETURN TO THE UNITED STATES. 1. Mr. Chairman, — The personal feelings of a politician ought not to be permitted to cuter these walls. The question before us is a national one, ant of the earth, Allied to the gods, I exult in my birth ! THE SWAN". 9. \Vhen a calm death succeeds to tranquil life, iinks detaching without pain or strife, ■ice restores its primal power, Its dying tones shall hail the solemn h THE EAGLE. 10. The soul, like the phenix, springs forth from the j ■;. All free and unveiled, to the skies to aspire, To hail the bright vision that bursts on its view, And its youth at the dark torch of death to renew ! LESSON LXXII. HOW WE WENT WHALING OFF THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE. DICKENS' HOUSEHOLD WORDS. 1. At Algoa Bay, in the eastern provinces of the Cape Colony, there is, and has been for thirty years, a whaling establishment. By what instinct these monsters of the deep ascertain the settlement of man on the shores they frequent, it would be difficult to say. But that they do so, and that they then comparatively desert such i, is undoubted. "Where one whale is now seen off the south- eastern coast of Africa, twenty were seen in former times, when the inhabitants of the country were few. 2. It is the same in > : tA, and every other whale-fre- quented coast Nevertheless, the whaling establishment I have COBB'S SPEAKEK. 211 mentioned is still kept up in Algoa Bay, and with good reason. One whale per annum will pay all the expenses and outgoings of its maintenance ; every other whale taken in the course of a year is a clear profit. 3. The value of a 'whale depends, of course, upon its size ; the average is from three hundred pounds to six hundred pounds. The establishment at Algoa Bay consists of a stone-built house for the residence of the foreman, with the coppers and boiling-houses at- tached ; a wooden boat-house, in which are kept three whale-boats, with all the lines and tackle belonging to them ; and a set of javelins, harpoons, and implements for cutting up the whales, carcasses. Then, there are a boat's crew of picked men, six in number, besides the cockswain and the harpooner. There are sel- dom above two or three whales taken in the course of a year ; oc- casionally not one. 4. The appearance of a whale in the bay is known immediately ; and, great is the excitement caused thereby in the little town of Port Elizabeth, close to which the whaling establishment is situated. It is like a sudden and unexpected gala, got up for the entertain- ment of the inhabitants, with nothing to pay. 5. A treat of this sort is suddenly got up by the first appearance of a whale in those parts. Tackle-boats and men are got ready in a twinkling. "We jump into the stern-sheets of the boat. Six weather-beaten, muscular tars are at work at the oars, and there, in the bows, stands the harpooner, preparing his tackle ; a boy is by his side. Coils of line lie at their feet, with harpoons attached to them, and two or three spears or javelins. 6. " Pull away, boys ; there she blows again !" cries the cock- swain, and at each stroke the strong men almost lift the little craft out of the water. The harpooner says nothing ; he is a very silent fellow ; but wo to the unlucky whale that comes within the whirl of his unerring harpoon ! *7. Meantime, our fat friend of the ocean is rolling himself about, as if such things as harpoons never existed ; as if he were an infi- del in javelins. We are approaching him ; a dozen more strokes and we shall be within aim. Yet the harpooner seems cool and 212 COBB'S SPEAKER. unmoved as ever; he holds the harpoon, it is true; but he seems to grasp it no tighter, or to make any preparation for a strike. Be knows the whale better than we do; better than his crew. He baa been a harpooner for thirty years, and once harpooned twenty-six whales in one } T ear with his own hand, lie was right not to hurry himself, you Bee, tor tin- whale has at Last caught sight of us, and has plunged below the surface. 8. Now, however, tin- harpooner makes an imperceptible sign to the cockswain. The cockswain Bays, "Give way, boys," scarcely above his breath, and the boat skim- Caster than ever ofer the waves. The harpooner's hand clutches more tightly the harpoon, and he slowly raises his arm ; his mouth is compressed, hut his face is as calm as ever. A few yards ahead of us ;i wave seems to swell above the others: u Whiz :" at the very moment you catch sight of the whale's back again above the water, the harpoon ifl in it, eighteen inches deep, hurled by the unerring arm of the silent harpooner. 9. The red blood of the monster gushes forth, "incarnadining," as Macbeth Bays, the waves. " Back water," shouts the harp as the whale writhes with the pain, and flings his huge body about with force enough to submerge twenty of our little crafts at one blow. But he has plunged down again below the surface, and the pace at which he dives you may judge of, by the wonderful ra- pidity with which the line attached to the harpoon runs over the bows of the boat. Now, too, you see the use of the boy who is bailing water from the sea in a small bucket, and pouring it in- cessantly over the edge of the boat where the line runs, or in two minutes the friction would set fire to it. 10. You begin to think the whale is never coming back ; but the crew know better. See too, the line is running out more slowly every instant ; it ceases altogether now, and hangs slackly over the boat's side. He is coming up exhausted to breathe again. There are a few moments of suspense, during which the harpooner is get- ting ready and poising one of the javelins. It is longer, lighter, and sharper than the harpoon, but it has no line attached to it. COBB'S SPEAKER. 213 The harpoon is to catch ; the javelin is to kill. Slowly the whale rises again, but he is not within aim. 11. " Pull again, boys ;" wdiile the boy is hauling in the line as fast as he can. We are near enough now. Again a whiz ; again another ; and the harpooner has sent two javelins deep into the creature's body ; while the blood flows fast. Suddenly, the whale dashes forward. No need of pulling at the oars now ; we are giving him fresh line as fast as we can, yet he is taking us through the water at the rate of twenty miles an horn- at least. One would fancy that the harpoons and the javelins have only irritated him, and that the blood he has lost has diminished nothing of his strength. Not so, however ; the pace slackens now ; we are scarcely moving through the water. 12. "Pull again, boys," and we approach ; while another deadly javelin pierces him. This time he seems to seek revenge. He dashes towards us ; what can save us ? 13. " Back water," cries the harpooner, while the cockswain taking the hint at the same moment, with a sw^eep of his oar the little boat performs a kind of curvet backward, and the monster has shot past us unharming, but not unharmed ; the har- pooner, cool as ever, has hurled another javelin deep into him, and smiles half pityingly at this impotent rage, which, he knows full well, bodes a termination of the contest. The red blood is spout- ing forth from four wounds, " neither as deep as a well, nor as wide as a church-door," but enough to kill ; even a whale. He rolls over heavily and slowly ; a few convulsive movements shake his mighty frame ; then he floats motionless on the water ; and the whale is dead ! 14. Kopes are now made fast around him, and he is slowly towed away to shore, opposite the whaling establishment. A crowd is collected to see his huge body hauled up on to the beach, and to speculate on his size and value. In two days all his blub- ber is cut away and melting in the coppers. Vultures are feeding on his flesh, and men are cleansing his bones. In two months, barrels of his oil are waiting for shipment to England. The fringe- 214 COBB'S SPEAK Eli. work which lined his mouth, and which we call whaleb ready for the uses to which ladies apply it. 15. Hi- teeth, which are beautiful ivory, are being fashi into ornaments by the turner; and hi- iiiiiii«-ii— «- ribs are serving as landmark- on tin- different farms about the country, for which purpose they are admirably adapted. Meanwhile our friend, the barpooner, and his crew are reposing on their laurel.-, and looking out tbr fresh luck ; while the proprietor of the establishment hundred pounds the richer from this k< catching a whale." LESSON LXXIII. EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH IN THE SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES IN RELATION TO SOUTH CAROLINA. HAYNE. 1. If there be one State in the Union, Mr. 1 'resident, that may challenge comparison with any oth.-r, lor a uniform, zealous, ar- dent, and unealeulating devotion to the Union, that State is South Carolina. Sir, from the very commencement of the revolution, up to this hour, there is no sacrifice, however great, she has not cheer- fully made ; no sen-ice she has ever hesitated to perform. 2. She has adhered to you in prosperity; but, in your adver- sity, she has clung to you with more than filial affection. No matter what was the condition of her domestic affairs, though de- prived of her resources, divided by parties, or surrounded by diffi- culties, the call of the country has been to her as the voice of God. Domestic discord ceased at the sound ; every man became at once reconciled to his brethren, and the sons of Carolina were all seen, crowding together to the temple, bringing their gifts to the altar of their common country. 3. What, sir, was the conduct of the South, during the revolu- tion ? Sir, I honor New England for her conduct in that glorious struggle. But great as is the praise which belongs to her, I think at least equal honor is due to the South. Never was there ex- COBB'S SPEAKER. 215 hibited, in the history of the world, higher examples of noble da- ring, dreadful suffering, and heroic endurance, than by the whigs of Carolina, during the revolution. The whole State, from the mountains to the sea, was overrun by an overwhelming force of the enemy. The fruits of industry perished on the spot where they were produced, or were consumed by the foe. 4. " The plains of Carolina" drank up the most precious blood of her citizens. Black, smoking ruins marked the places which had been the habitation of her children. Driven from their homes into the gloomy and almost impenetrable swamps, even there, the spirit of liberty survived, and South Carolina, sustained by the ex- ample of her Sumpters, and her Marions, proved, by her conduct, that though her soil might be overrun, the spirit of her people was invincible. LESSON LXXIV. EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH IN THE SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES IN REPLY TO COL. HATNE. WEBSTER. 1. The eulogium pronounced on the character of the State of South Carolina, by the honorable gentleman, for her revolutionary and other merits, meets my hearty concurrence. I shall not ac- knowledge that the honorable member goes before me, in regard for whatever of distinguished talent or distinguished character, South Carolina has produced. I claim part of the honor ; I par- take in the pride of her great names. 2. I claim them for countrymen, one and all ; the Laurenses, the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the Marions, Ameri- cans all, whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by state lines, than their talents and patriotism were capable of being circum- scribed within the same narrow limits. In their day and genera- tion, they served and honored the country, and the whole country, and their renown is of the treasures of the whole country. 3. Him, whose honored name the gentleman himself bears; does he suppose me less capable of gratitude for his patriotism, or 216 COBB'S Sl'EAKHIi. sympathy for his suffering, than if bia eyes had first opened apon the light in Massachusetts, instead of South Carolina ! Sir, docs da suppose it iii his power to exhibit in Carolina a name so bright as to produce envy in my bosom ? No, sir, increased gratifica- tion and delight rather, Sir, I thank God, that, if I am gifted With little of the spirit which is said to be able to raise mortal- to the ski---, 1 have y.t none, as I trust, of that other spirit, which would drag angels down. 4. When I shall be found, sir, in my place here in the Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit, because it happened to spring up beyond the little limits of my own state or neighborhood; when I refu-e for any Mich cause, or for any cause, the homage due to American talent, to elevated patriotism, to sincere devotion to lib- erty and the country ; or, if I see an uncommon endowment of Heaven ; if I see extraordinary capacity or virtue in any son of the South ; and if, moved by local prejudice, or gangrened by state jealousy, I get up here to abate a tithe of a hair from his just character and just fame, may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. 5. Mr. President, I shall enter no encomium upon Massachusetts. She needs none. There she is ; behold her, and judge for your- selves. There is her history ; the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There are Boston, and Concord, and Lexing- ton, and Bunker-hill ; and there they will remain for ever. And, sir, where American liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its original spirit. 6. If discord and disunion shall wound it ; if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it ; if folly and madness, if uneasiness under salutary restraint, shall succeed to separate it from that Union, by which alone its existence is made sure, it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its infancy was rocked ; it will stretch forth its arm with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends who gathered around it ; and, it will fall at last, if fall it must, amid the proudest monuments of its glory, and on the very spot of its origin. COBB'S SPEAKER. 217 LESSON LXXV. THE TRAVELLER AT THE RED SEA. MISS H. F. GOULD. 1. At last have I found thee, thou dark rolling sea ! I gaze on thy face, and I listen to thee, With a spirit o'erawed by the sight and the sound, While mountain and desert frown gloomy around. 2. And thee, mighty deep, from afar I behold, Which God swept apart for his people of old, That Egypt's proud army, unstained by their blood, Received on thy bed to entomb in thy flood. 3. I cast my eye out, where the cohorts went down ; A throng of pale spectres no waters can drown, With banner and blades seen surmounting the waves, As Pharaoh's bold hosts sunk in arms to their graves. 4. But quick from the light of the skies they withdraw, At silent Omnipotence shrinking with awe ; And each sinks away in his billowy shroud, From him who walked here, clothed in fire and a cloud. 5. I stand by the pass the freed Hebrews then trod, Sustained by the hand of Jehovah, dry-shod ; And think how the song of salvation they sang, With praise to His name, through the wilderness rang. 6. Our Father, who then didst thine Israel guide, Rebuke, and console in their wanderings wide, From these gloomy waters, through this desert drear, O, still in life's maze to thy pilgrim be near. ,. 7. While thou, day by day, wilt thy manna bestow, And make, for my thirst, the rock fountain to flow, Refreshed by the way, will I speed to the clime Of rest for the weary, beyond earth and time. 10 218 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON LXXVI. EDUCATION. EXTRACT FltOM AN ADDRESS DELIVERED AT THE COLLEGIATE IN0TXTUTXOH IN AMHERST, UA8&, BY REV. DR. HUMPHREY, ON OCCASION OF HIS I N Alt; I RATION TO THE PRESIDENCY OK 'J II AT 1NMIH lloN, OCT. 15, 1823. 1. Convened m we are thia day, in the portals of science and literature, and with all their arduous heights and profound depths and Elysian fields before us, education offers itself as the inspiring theme of our present meditations. This in a free, enlightened, and Christian state, i^ confessedly s subject of the highest moment. How can the diamond reveal it- lustre from beneath incumbent rocks and earthy strata ? How can the marble speak, Of stand forth in all the divine symmetry of the human form, till it is taken from the quarry and fashioned by the hand of the artist I 2. And how can man be intelligent, happy, or useful, without the culture and discipline of education ? It is this that smooths and polishes the roughness of his nature It is this that unlocks the prison-house of his mind and releases the captive. It is the transforming hand of education, which is now in so many heathen lands moulding savageness and ignorance, pagan fanaticism and brutal stupidity, revenge, and treachery, and lust ; and in short, all the warring elements of our lapsed nature, into the various forms of exterior decency, of mental brilliancy, and of Christian loveliness. 3. It is education that pours light into the understanding, lays up its golden treasures in the memory, softens the asperities of the temper, checks the waywardness of passion and appetite, and trains to habits of industry, temperance, and benevolence. It is this which qualifies men for the pulpit, the senate, the bar, the prac- tice of medicine, and the bench of justice. It is to education, to its domestic agents, its schools and colleges, its universities and literary societies, that the w r orld is indebted for the thousand com- forts and elegances of civilized life, for almost every useful art, dis- covery, and invention. COBB'S SPEAKER. 219 4. Education, moreover, is power, physical, intellectual, and moral power. To be convinced of this, we need only compare our own great republic with the myriads of pagan or savage men, in any part of the world. How astonishing the difference in every important respect ! For what can the ignorant hordes of Central Africa or Asia do, either in arts or in arms ? What, to make them- selves happy at home or respected abroad ? And what, on the other hand, can not civilized Americans accomplish ? 5. In a word, education, regarding man as a rational, account- able, and immortal being, elevates, expands, and enriches his mind ; cultivates the best affections of his heart ; pours a thou- sand sweet and gladdening streams around the dwellings of the poor as well as the mansions of the rich ; and, while it greatly multiplies and enhances the enjoyments of time, helps to train up the soul for the bliss of eternity. 6. How extremely important, then, is every inquiry which re- lates to the philosophy of the human mind, to the early discipline and cultivation of its noble powers, to the comparative merits and defects of classical books and prevailing systems of instruction, to the advantages accruing from mathematical and other abstruse studies, to the means of educating the children of the poor in our public seminaries, to the present state of science and literature in our country, and to the animating prospects which are opening LESSON LXXVIL THE LONE INDIAN. MISS FRANCIS. 1. For many a returning autumn, a lone Indian was seen stand- ing at the consecrated spot we have mentioned ; but, just thirty years after the death of Soonseetah, he was noticed for the last time. His step was then firm, and his figure erect, though he seemed old and way-worn. Age had not dimmed the fire of his eye, but an expression of deep melancholy ha.d settled on his 220 COBB'S SPEAKER. wrinkled brow. It was Powontonamo ; he who had once been the Eagle of the Mohaw kfl ! He came to lie down and die beneath the broad oak, which shadowed the grave of Sunny-eye. 2. Alas, the white man's axe had been there ! The tree he had planted was dead ; and the vine, which had Leaped bo rigorously from branch to branch, now, yellow and withering, was falling to the ground. A deep groan mini from the soul of the savage. For thirty wearisome yean be had watched that oak, with its twining tendrils. They were the only things left in the wide world for him to lore, and they were gone 1 Be looked abroad. The hunting land of his tribe was changed, Like its chieftain. 3. Xo light canoe now shot down the river, like a bird upon the wing. The laden boal of the white man alone broke its smooth surface. The Englishman's road wound like a serpent around the banks of the Mohawk ; and iron hoofs had so beaten down the war path, that a hawk's eye could not discover an Indian track. The Last wigwam was destroyed ; and the sun looked boldly down upon spots he had visited only by stealth, during thousands and thousands of moons. 4. The few remaining trees, clothed in the fantastic mourning of autumn; the long line of heavy clouds, melting away before the coming sun ; and the distant mountain, seen through the blue mist of departing twilight, alone remained as he had seen them in his boyhood. All things spoke a sad language to the heart of the desolate Indian. 5. " Yes," said he, " the young oak and the vine are like the Eagle and the Sunny-eye. They are cut down, torn, and trampled on. The leaves are falling, and the clouds are scattering, like my people. I wish I could once more see the trees standing thick, as they did when my mother held me to her bosom, and sung the warlike deeds of the Mohawks." 6. A mingled expression of grief and anger passed over his face, as he watched a loaded boat in its passage across the stream. " The white man carries food to his wife and children, and he finds them in his home," said he. " Where are the squaw and the pap- poose of the red man ? They are here !" COBB'S SPEAKER. 221 7. As he spoke lie fixed Ms eye thoughtfully upon the grave. After a gloomy silence, he again looked around upon the fair scene, with a wandering and troubled gaze. " The pale face may like it," murmured he ; "but an Indian can not die here in peace." So saying, he broke his bow-string, snapped his arrows, threw them on the burial-place of his fathers, and departed for ever. LESSON LXXVIII. ABBOTSFORD. ANDREW DICKINSON'S FIRST VISIT TO EUROPE. 1. Abbotsford, on the banks of the classic Tweed, is three miles from Melrose. The road is through a broad, fertile valley, somewhat undulating, bounded by verdant, swelling hills, along the margin of which flows the crystal stream. The entire distance both sides of the way was adorned by hawthorn, whose white and red flowers were yielding up then beautiful reign to wild roses, red and white; so that the whole summer was enlivened with bloom- ing hedges. 2. What on earth could be more lovely ? It was a terrestrial heaven of beauty and fragrance ! At a place where the road forked off, I chose the most attractive ; and, though this is not always the safest way of doing things, in this instance I had no doubt it led to the seat of Sir Walter Scott ; and so it did ! 3. I was all alone, and met no one ; a fit situation to enjoy the poetry of silence that reigned around the green vales and gently- sloping, far-off hills, covered with yellow, waving harvests. Now and then the murmurs of the distant Tweed were borne on the light-fluttering breeze, suddenly dying away like the soft whispers of spirit-voices. 4. Did I say I was alone % I was wrong. The amiable author of The Seasons was with me everywhere ; yet our social converse was more frequent and enthusiastic as we wandered nearer his 222 COBB'S SPEAKER. own native Ednam in Roxburgshire. When I came in sight of the Tweed, he exclaimed : " Pure parent stream, "Whose pastoral banks first heard my Doric reed ; And sylvan Jed, thy tributary brook 1" 5. And then there was a long, " expressive silence !" Near yonder woody eminence flows the silver Tweed ; and right behind are the turrets of Abbotsford. My heart beat with unwonted quickness as I descended the rough pebbly road, the steep bank over which was covered with a little forest of Scotch firs and wild- w r ood trees, through which the wind breathed in reedy sighs. 6. The path sweeps gracefully around the declivity, and brings me directly in front of Abbotsford. The man who can look at it without emotion is no great affair, and is to be pitied. While passing the gateway a tear would start. Whence this strange agitation ? I could hardly muster courage to pull the door-bell, though I knew the master of the mansion was not at home. He had gone to the Spirit-Land, and will never come back ! V. The entrance to the hall was a porch in imitation of the Linlithgow palace, and adorned with stag-horns. The walls and roof are panelled of rich carving, from the palace of Dumfermline, and hung around with ancient weapons, the cornice being adorned with armorial coats of the Douglases, Maxwells, Scotts, Chis- holms, Elliotts, Armstrongs, Kers, and others. 8. A lady in black then conducted me through the armory, a narrow arched room running across the building, filled with small pieces of armor and weapons in great variety. The drawing-room is a lofty saloon, with antique ebony furniture, splendid carved cabinets, and fine pictures. 9. The roof of the dining-room is of richly carved black oak, and contains many beautiful pictures, of which the most striking are, the head of Queen Mary in a charger, after she was beheaded, full length portraits of Lord Essex, Charles II., Claverhouse, Charles XII. of Sweden, Cromwell, and one of Scott's great-grandfather, w r ho let his beard grow after the execution of Charles I. In this very room Scott died ! COBB'S SPEAKER. 223 10. The breakfast parlor is small and neat, looking out upon the Tweed below on one side, and the romantic, though rather bald and treeless, hills of Ettrick and Yarrow on the other. The collection of drawings in water-colors in this room, from Scottish antiquities, is very inviting. 11. The library is a magnificent room, fifty by sixty, with 20,000 volumes. The roof is of carved oak with pendents, grape- clusters, leaves, and tasteful devices, copied from Melrose and Ros- lin. Here are busts of Shakspeare, Wordsworth, and other wor- thies, and one of Sir Walter himself by Chantery. The study is about half as large as the library. Here is his plain arm-chair, covered with glossy black leather, and made of beams of the house in which Wallace was betrayed. 12. A light gallery runs around three sides of the room-, with only one window, giving the place a lonely, sombre look. From his chamber Scott descended into his study without passing through any other room.. 13. Among a thousand curious antiquities are, a Roman camp- kettle 2000 years old; a shirt of mail worn by Cromwell when reviewing his troops ; a hunting-flask of James I. ; Bonaparte's pistols, found in his carriage after the battle of Waterloo ; a set of beautifully carved ebony chairs presented by George IV. ; and on a porphyry table is a silver vase filled with bones from Piraeus, the gift of Lord Byron. 14. " Scott was very proud of these chairs, and this table and vase," said the lady-like guide. " And there is the Tweed where Scott loved to fish." Having expressed a wish to try it myself, she said I could get fishing-gear at the lodge hard by ; but I soon found my excitement was too great for this cool sport ; for though a numerous fry were darting about in the limpid stream, I fancied the fishes of Scotland were uncommonly shy ; I hardly got a nibble. 15. When Scott purchased this secluded spot, thirty years ago, it was wild and unadorned. Abbotsford, with its adjacent grounds, romantic winding walks, and shady bowers, are all the creation of his splendid fancy. A waterfall down a steep neighboring ravine adds greatly to the romantic effect. 224 COBB'S SPEAKER. 16. The declining sun admonished me that I was a sojourner, and must hasten back a-foot to Melrose, to take the railway for Kelso at six. I could net bear to think this was an eternal fare- well to one of the most attractive Bpota in the wide world. LESSON LXXIX. THF. DEHT DOT TO THE S0LDIER9 op the REVOLUTION'. [Extract from Peleg SpragOft'l speech, 00 B bill for the relief of the sur- Tiving officers of the Army of tin- fteTolatioo, delivered in the House of Representatives of the United States, April 25, 1826.] Mr. Chairman, 1. In relation tothebiH now before as, the amendment of which provides for the relief of the Boldiers of the Revolution, I would ask, sir, who are the men whom we hare thus grievously wronged I Are they mere hirelings, to whom we should be content to weigh out justice by the grain and scruple, or are they our greatest earthly 1 enefaeton I 2. They Mere actuated by higher and purer motives than any soldiers that ever assembled, and exhibited a spectacle of unyield- ing fortitude and self-denying magnanimity unequalled in the annals of mankind. Others, under a momentary enthusiasm, or in the hurrying fever of battle, have fought as desperately. Others, when far from succor and from their country, have endured and persevered for individual and self-preservation. 3. But where, in all history, is an example of a soldier}*, with no power to control them, who, in a single day, perhaps, could have reached their homes in safety, voluntarily continuing to endure such protracted miseries, from no motive but inward prin- ciples and a sense of duty ? They were imbued with a loftier and more expanded spirit of patriotism and philanthropy, and achieved more for the happiness of their country and of mankind, than any army that ever existed. And where is there an example of moral COBB'S SPEAKER. , 225 sublimity equal to their last act of self-devotion, after peace and in- dependence had been acquired ? 4. That army, which had dared the power and humbled the pride of Britain, and wrested a nation from her grasp ; that army, with swords in their hands, need not have sued and begged for justice. No, sir ; they could have righted their own wrongs, and meted out their own rewards. The country was prostrate before them ; and if they had raised their arms, and proclaimed them- selves sovereign, where was the power that could have resisted their sway ? They were not unconscious of their strength, nor did they want incitements to use it. 5. The author of the celebrated Newburg letters told them, Your country disdains your cries, and tramples upon your distresses. He conjured them, in the most eloquent and energetic language, to exert the power which they held, and never to lay down their arms until ample justice had been obtained. What was their answer? With one voice, they spurned the dark suggestions, voluntarily surrendered their arms, and submitted themselves, unconditionally, to the civil power. 6. They quietly dispersed, and parted for their homes, in every part of your wide domain, unrewarded, penniless, carrying with them nothing but the proud consciousness of the purity and dignity of their conduct, and a firm reliance upon then* country's honor and their country's faith. And what return has been made to them ? Have they not found your high-blown honor a painted bubble, and your plighted faith a broken reed? Have not the petitions of the soldiers of the revolution been disregarded ? Have they not grown old in poverty ? Do they not owe the miserable remnant of their lives to charity ? Sir, if we change not our con- duct towards them, it must crimson with shame the front of history. 7. It has been said by the gentleman from Virginia, that we have already made provision for the poor and the necessitous, and that we ought to go no farther. Sir, the soldiers of the revolution have a claim of right upon us, and I would do equal and ample justice to all, and not mete it out with a stinted and partial 10* 226 COBB'S SPEAKER. Land. I would not make the payment of our debts to depend upon the poverty of our creditors. 8. No, sir; I would not say to the heroes who fought our battles, and, in the dark hour of our adversity, wrought out oar po- litical salvation, and to whom we delivered only tattered nga, tad called them, in mockery, payment for their servioes; men, whose disinterested achievements are not transcended in all the annals of chivalry, and who, for us, confronted horrors not surpassed in all the histories of all the martyrs ; to these men, of honor most cherished, and sentiments mosl exalted; our fathers, the authors of our being; 9. I would not now say, Come before us in the garb of mendi- cants ; how your proud spirits in the dust | (car open the wounds of the heart, which you have concealed from every eye, and expose your nakedness to a cold, unfeeling world, and put all upon record, as a perpetual memorial of your country's ingratitude; and then, we will bestow a pittance in charity! You talk of erecting statues, and marble memorials of the Father of his countiy. 10. It is well. But could his spirit now be heard within these walls, would it not tell you, that, to answer his fervent prayers, and verify his eonfident predictions of your gratitude to his com- panions in arms, would be a sweeter incense, a more grateful hom- age to his memory, than the most splendid mausoleum ? You gave hundreds of thousands of dollars to Lafayette. It was well ; and the whole country resounded amen. But is not the citizen sol- dier, who fought by his side, who devoted every thing to your ser- vice, and has been deprived of his promised reward, equally entitled, I will not say to your liberality, but to your justice ? 11. Yet, some- gentlemen tell us, that even the present law is too liberal ; that it goes too far, and they would repeal it. They w r ould take back even the little which they have given ! And is this possible ? Look abroad upon this widely extended land, upon its wealth, its happiness, its hopes ; and then turn to the aged soldier, who gave you all, and see him descend, in neglect and poverty, to the tomb ! The time is short. A few years, and these remnants of a former age will no longer be seen. COBB'S SPEAKER. 227 LESSON LXXX. THE CHIEFTAIN'S DAUGHTER. GEORGE P. MORRIS. 1. Upon the barren sand A single captive stood, Around him came, with bow and brand, The red-men of the wood. Like him of old, his doom he hears, Rock-bound on ocean's rim : The chieftain's daughter knelt in tears, And breathed a prayer for him. 2. Above his head in air, The savage war-club swung, The frantic girl, in wild despair, Her arms about him flung. Then shook the warriors of the shade, Like leaves on aspen limb, Subdued by that heroic maid Who breathed a prayer for him. 3. "Unbind him!" gasped the chief, " Obey your king's decree !" He kissed away her tears of grief, And set the captive free. 'Tis ever thus, when, in life's storm, Hope's star to man grows dim, An angel kneels in woman's form, And breathes a prayer for him. 228 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON LXXXI. "search the scriptures." 1. Glance not with careless eye The sacred pages o'er ; Nor lightly lay the volume by, To think of it no more. 2. Ungrateful ! pause and think, Nor madly throw aside The passport to eternal life ; The sure and only guide. 3. Be not content to hear "What others say ; but go, Like the Bereans, daily search " Whether these things are so." 4. Search deeply, prayerfully ; There is no promise given To those who will not strive t' obtain Admission into heaven. 5. Sure 'tis our highest end Eternal life to gain : " Search," then, " the Scriptures ;" they alone The words of life contain. 6. They point our wandering feet To Christ, the living way ! Oh, read, believe, repent, obey ; Thus reign in endless day. COBB'S SPEAKEK. 229 LESSON LXXXIL paul's defence before king agrippa. — bible. 1. Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Thou art permitted to speak for thyself. Then Paul stretched forth the hand, and answered for himself. 2. I think myself happy, king Agrippa, because I shall answer for myself this day before thee, touching all the things whereof I am accused of the Jews : Especially, because I know thee to be expert in all customs and questions which are among the Jews ; wherefore I beseech thee to hear me patiently. 3. My manner of life from my youth, which was at the first among mine own nation at Jerusalem, know all the Jews ; Which knew me from the beginning, (if they would testify,) that after the most straitest sect of our religion, I lived a Pharisee. 4. And now I stand, and am judged for the hope of the prom- ise made of God unto our fathers : Unto which promise our twelve tribes, instantly serving God day and night, hope to come. For which hope's sake, king Agrippa, I am accused of the Jews. 5. Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you, that God should raise the dead ? I verily thought with myself, that I ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth. 6. Which thing I also did in Jerusalem : and many of the saints did I shut up in prison, having received authority from the chief priests ; and when they were put to death, I gave my voice against them. And I punished them oft in every synagogue, and compelled them to blaspheme ; and being exceedingly mad against them, I persecuted them even unto strange cities. 7. Whereupon, as I went to Damascus, with authority and com- mission from the chief priests, At mid-day, king, I saw in the way a light from heaven, 230 COBB'S SPEAKER. above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me, and them which journeyed with me. 8. And when we were all fallen to the earth, I heard a voice speaking unto me, and saying in the Hebrew tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks. And I said, Who art thou, Lord ? And he said, I am Jesus whom thou persecutest. 9. But rise, and stand upon thy feet : for I have appeared unto thee for this purpose, to make thee a minister and a witness both of these things which thou hast seen, and of those things in the which I will appear unto thee ; 10. Delivering thee from the people, and from the Gentiles, unto whom now I send thee ; To open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive for- giveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me. 11. Whereupon, king Agrippa, I was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision : But showed first unto them of Damascus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the coasts of Judea, and then to the Gentiles, that they should repent and turn to God, and do works meet for repentance. 12. For these causes the Jews caught me in the temple, and went about to kill me. Having therefore obtained help of God, I continue unto this day, witnessing both to small and great, saying none other things than those which the prophets and Moses did say should come : That Christ should suffer, and that he should be the first that should rise from the dead, and should show light unto the people, and to the Gentiles. 13. And as he thus spake for himself, Festus said with a loud voice, Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad. COBB'S SPEAKEK. 231 But lie said, I am not mad, most noble Festus ; but speak forth the words of truth and soberness. For the king knoweth of these things, before whom also I speak freely : for I am persuaded that none of these things are hidden from him ; for this thing was not done in a corner. 14. King Agrippa, belie vest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest. Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. And Paul said, I would to God, that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost, and altogether such as I am, except these bonds. LESSON LXXXIII. CONFLICT WITH AN ELEPHANT. FROM CUMMING's HUNTING AD- VENTURES IN SOUTH AFRICA. 1. In a few minutes one of those who had gone off to our left, came running breathless to say that he had seen the mighty game. I halted for a minute, and instructed Isaac, who carried the big Dutch rifle, to act independently of me, while Kleinboy was to assist me in the chase ; but, as usual, when the row began, my followers thought only of number one. 2. I bared my arms to the shoulder; and, having imbibed a draught of aqua pura from the calabash of one of the spoorers, I grasped my trusty two-grooved rifle, and told my guide to go ahead. We proceeded silently as might be for a few hundred yards, following the guide, when he suddenly pointed, exclaiming, " Klow !" and before us stood a herd of mighty bull elephants, packed together beneath a shady grove about a hundred and fifty yards in advance. 3. I rode slowly towards them ; and, as soon as they observed me, they made a loud rumbling noise, and, tossing their trunks, 232 COBB'S SPEAKER. wheeled right about and made off in one direction, crashing through the forest, and leaving a cloud of dust behind them. 1 wm accompanied by a detachment of my dogs, which assisted me in the pursuit. 4. The distance I had come, and the difficulties I had under- gone to behold these elephants, rose fresh before me. I deter- mined that on this occasion, at least, I would do my duty; and, dashing my spun into u Sunday's" ribs, I was pery soon much too close in their rear for safety. The elephants now made an incli- nation to my left, whereby 1 obtained a good view of the ivory. The herd consisted of six bulls; four of them were full grown, first-rate elephants ; the other two were fine fellows, but had not yet arrived at perfect stature. 5. Of the four old fellows, two had much finer tusks than the rest ; and, for a few seconds, I was undecided which of these two I would follow ; when, suddenly, the one which I fancied had the stoutest tusks broke from his comrades, and I at once felt con- vinced that he was the patriarch of the herd, and followed him accordingly. 6. Cantering along-side, I was about to fire, when he instantly turned, and, uttering a trumpet so strong and shrill that the earth seemed to vibrate beneath my feet : he charged furiously after me for several hundred yards in a direct line, not altering his course in the slightest degree for the trees of the forest, which he snapped and overthrew like reeds in his headlong career. V. When he pulled up in his charge, I likewise halted ; and, as he slowly turned to retreat, I let fly at his shoulder, " Sunday" capering and prancing, and giving me much trouble. On receiv- ing the ball, the elephant shrugged his shoulder, and made off at a free, majestic walk. This shot brought several of the dogs to my assistance which had been following the other elephants ; and, on their coming up and barking, another headlong charge was the result, accompanied by the never-failing trumpet as before. 8. In his charge he passed close to me, when I saluted him with a second bullet in the shoulder, of which he did not take the slight- est notice. I now determined not to fire again until I could make COBB'S SPEAKEE. 233 a steady shot ; but, although the elephant turned repeatedly, " Sunday" invariably disappointed me, capering so that it was im- possible to fire. 9. At length, exasperated, I became reckless of the danger, and, springing from the saddle, approached the elephant under cover of a tree, and gave him a bullet in the side of the head ; when, trumpeting so shrilly that the forest trembled, he charged among the dogs, from which he seemed to fancy that the blow had come ; after which he took up a position in a grove of thorns, with his head towards me. 10. I walked up very near; and, as he was in the act of char- ging, (being in those days under wrong impressions as to the im- practicability of bringing down an elephant with a shot in the forehead,) stood coolly in his path until he was within fifteen paces of me, and let drive at the hollow of his forehead, in the vain expectation that by so doing I should end his career. The shot only served to increase his fury ; an effect which, I had re- 1 marked, shots in the head invariably produced ; and, continuing his charge with incredible quickness and impetuosity, he all but terminated my elephant-hunting for ever. 11. A large party of the Bechuanas who had come up, yelled out simultaneously, imagining I was killed ; for, the elephant was, at one moment, almost on the top of me : I, however, escaped by my activity, and by dodging around the bushy trees. As the elephant was charging, an enormous thorn ran deep into the sole of my foot, the old Badenoch brogues, which I that day sported, being worn through, and this caused me severe pain, laming me throughout the rest of the conflict. 12. The elephant held on through the forest at a sweeping pace ; but he was hardly out of sight when I was loaded and in the saddle, and soon once more along-side. About this time I heard Isaac blazing away at another bull ; but when the elephant charged, his cowardly heart failed him, and he very soon made his appearance at a safe distance in my rear. My elephant kept crashing along at a steady pace, with blood streaming from his 234 COBB'S SPEAKER. wounds ; the dogs, which were knocked up with fatigue and thirst, no longer barked around him, but had dropped astern. 13. It was long before I again fired; for, I was afraid to dis- mount, and "Sunday" was extremely troublesome. At length, I fired sharp right and left from the saddle : he got both balls be- hind the shoulder, and made a long charge after me, rumbling and trumpeting as before. The whole body of the Bamangwato men had now come up, and were following a short distance be- hind me. 14. Among these was Mollyeon, who volunteered to help ; and, being a very swift and active fellow, he rendered me important smice by holding my fidgety horse's head while I fired and loaded. I then fired six broadsides from the saddle, the elephant charging almost every time, and pursuing us back to the main body in our rear, who fled in all directions as he approached. 15. The sun had now sunk behind the tops of the trees; it would very soon be dark, and the elephant did not seem much distressed, notwithstanding all he had received. I recollected that my time was short, and, therefore, at once resolved to fire no more from the saddle, but to go close up to him and fire on foot. 16. Riding up to him, I dismounted, and, approaching very near, I gave it him right and left in the side of the head, upon which he made a long and determined charge after me ; but I was now very reckless of his charges, for I saw that he could not overtake me ; and, in a twinkling I was loaded, and, again ap- proaching, fired sharp right and left behind his shoulder. 17. Again he charged with a terrific trumpet, which sent " Sun- day" flying through the forest. This was his last charge. The w T ounds which he had received began to tell on his constitution, and he now stood at bay beside a thorny tree, with the dogs barking around him. These, refreshed by the evening breeze, and perceiving that it was nearly over with the elephant, had once more come to my assistance. 18. Having loaded, I drew near and fired right and left at his forehead. On receiving these shots, instead of charging, he tossed his trunk up and down, and by various sounds and motions, most COBB'S SPEAKER. 235 gratifying to the hungry natives, evinced that his demise was near. 19. Again I loaded, and fired my last shot behind his shoulder : on receiving it, he turned around the bushy tree beside which he stood, and I ran around to give him the other barrel, but the mighty old monarch of the forest needed no more ; before I could clear the bushy tree he fell heavily on his side, and his spirit had fled. My feelings at this moment can only be understood by a few brother NimrOds who have had the good fortune to enjoy a similar encounter. I never felt so gratified on any former occa- sion as I did then. 20. By this time all the natives had come up ; they were in the highest spirits, and flocked around the elephant, laughing and talking at a rapid pace. I climbed on to him, and sat enthroned upon his side, which was as high as my eyes when standing on the ground. In a few minutes night set in, when the natives, having illuminated the jungle with a score of fires, and formed a semicircle of bushes to windward, lay down to rest without par- taking of a morsel of food. 21. Mutchuisho would not allow a man an assagai into the elephant until the morrow, and placed two relays of sentries to keep watch on either side of him. My dinner consisted of a piece of flesh from the temple of the elephant, which I broiled on the hot embers. In the conflict I had lost my shirt, which was re- duced to streamers by the wait-a-bit thorns ; and, all the clothing that remained was a pair of buckskin knee-breeches. LESSON LXXXIV. PROOFS OF THE ROTUNDITY OF THE EARTH. MALTE-BRUN. 1. The spherical form of the earth is the fundamental principle of geography. The proofs of this truth present themselves to the senses ; and they consist in certain remarkable appearances, 236 COBB'S SPEAKER. either of objects upon the surface of the earth, or of the heavenly bodies. 2. Why do towers, vessels, and mountains, when we recede from them, appear to sink below the horizon, commencing with the base; and why, oil the contrary, when we approach them, do these object* show first their summits, then their middle, and last of all their bases? These phenomena prove evidently that an apparent plane open the earth is b curve surface, and that it is the convexity of this surface which conceal- from the eye of the specta- tor upon the beach the hull of the vessel of which he sees the masts and sails. 8. These things, too, happen uniformly towards whatever part of the earth we travel; whether towards the east or towards the wesi ; towards the north or towards the south : it is impossible, therefore, to avoid drawing the conclusion, that the whole surface of the earth is, on all sides, nearly regularly curved ; or, in other words, that the earth is a body approaching in figure more or less to a sphere. 4. The same reference is deducible from an observation of the heavens. The polestar is that point in the heavens, which, itself alone immovable, appears to serve as a pivot to the apparent motions of the heavenly bodies. Now, if we proceed towards the north, we see the polestar take a position more elevated in the heavens, with regard to the horizon. If we go towards the south, this same star appears to sink, and others, before invisible, appear successively to rise. 5. It is, therefore, impossible that the line whose direction we follow can be a straight line traced upon a horizontal plane ; it can only be a curve ; and, as the same change everywhere takes place, it is natural to conclude that the earth has at least a circu- lar form from north to south. The fact that the sun rises sooner to those who dwell more towards the east, and gradually later to others in proportion as they are removed to the west, proves that it is equally circular from east to west ; for, were it flat, the sun would begin to illuminate all parts of its surface at the same instant. 6. Another most convincing proof is furnished by the eclipses COBB'S SPEAKER. 237 of the moon. These eclipses are known to be caused by the earth's coming between the sun and moon, and intercepting or cutting off the supply of light from the sun which illuminates the moon's surface or disk ; the dark part of the moon's disk is, there- fore, nothing more than a representation of the earth's shadow at the distance of the moon. V. In whatever position the earth happens to be at the time of an eclipse, its shadow upon the moon's disk is always in the form of a circle or of part of a circle ; the earth must, therefore, be a sphere, since no other than a spherical body, in every position in which it can be placed with respect to another body giving light, can cast a circular shadow upon a third body. 8. The numerous voyages which have been made around the world have finally shut the mouths of all those who persisted in regarding the earth as a round plane, or an hemispherical disk. Navigators, such as Magellan and Drake, sailing from Europe, have pursued a course always towards the west, (making only some deviations, in order to double the lands which stretch towards the south,) and without quitting this general direction, have re- turned to the same place whence they set out. 9. Heemskerk, when he wintered at Nova Zembla, confirmed what astronomers had concluded from the spherical figure of the earth ; namely, that the days and nights near the poles extend to several months. Finally, Cook, in approaching as near as j>ossi- ble to the southern polar circle, found that the voyage around was always diminished proportionably to the diminution of his distance from_the pole ; so that we have thus obtained an ocular proof of the rotundity of the earth towards the south pole as well as towards the north. 10. So many united proofs, as well as the accuracy of so many astronomical observations, all of which have been made and calcu- lated upon the supposition of the sphericity of our earth, leave no room for reasonable doubts upon the subject. In vain does ignorance demand of us how the earth can remain suspended in the air without any support. Let us look upon the heavens, and observe how many other globes roll in space. Let us then lay 238 COBB'S SPEAKER. aside all uneasiness concerning the antipodes, that is, the people of the earth whose feet are turned towards ours : there is upon the globe neither high nor low ; the antipodes see, in like manner as we do, the earth under their feet, and the sky over their head-. LESSON LXXXV. THE RUINS OF TIME. MILFORD BARD. 1. Where, now, Ls ancient Egypt, the land of science and sacred recollections ? Where are her thousand cities ; her Thebes, her Memphis, her oracle of Ammon ? The red arm of the Goth and the Vandal hath levelled them with the dust ; the serpent now in- habits the temple where the worshipper once bowed in adoration ; the oracle hath been silent for ages, and the priestess long since fled from her falling shrine. 2. And where are the cloud-capt pyramids of Egypt, the won- der of the world ? Alas ! they still stand as mournful monuments of human ambition. But where are the kings who planned, and the millions of miserable slaves who erected them ? 3. Gone down to the grave, and the rank weed waves over the sepulchre of their mouldering bones. And such shall be the fate of those pyramids which have stood for ages as the beacons of misguided ambition ; the wave of time shall roll over them, and bury them for ever in the general mausoleum of ages. Time, like Death, is an impartial conqueror. The monuments of genius and the arts fall alike before him in the path of his irresistible might. He hath uprooted the firm foundations of greatness and grandeur, and he hath desolated the gardens of oriental genius. 4. Methinks I see him pointing with triumph to the tottering temples of Greece, and smiling at the ruins of Athens and Sparta, the home of that illustrious philosopher who gave learning to the imperial son of Philip, and where Solon and Lycurgus gave laws to the world. But these cities are in ruins ; their philosophers are dumb in death ; the academy, the porch, and the lyceum no longer COBB'S SPEAKER. 239 resound with the doctrines of Plato, Zeno, and their illustrious competitors. Their fame alone has survived the general wreck. What a lesson is this for the growing empires of the earth ! 5. Greece, the glory of the world, the bright luminary of learn- ing, liberty, and laws, prostrate in the dust ; her light of genius and the arts quenched in the long night of time ; her philosophers, heroes, statesmen, and poets, mingling with the fragments of her fallen grandeur. Go to the temple of Diana, at Ephesus, and the oracle of Delphos, and ask the story of her renown, the story of her dissolution. Alas ! that temple hath long since dissolved in a flood of flame, and the last echo of that oracle hath died on the lips of JEolus. But she fell not, before the flaming sword of Mahomet, without a struggle. LESSON LXXXVI. 1. 'Twas night; and hoary Winter walked abroad, Howling like hungry wolves amid the wild ; Moon there was none ; and every star seemed awed, And shrinking, trembled like a frighted child ! Through all the woods the dreary snow was piled, Or like a shroud it lay, the ridged fold Showing the shape beneath ; above, beguiled By sorrow, swayed the pines ; through wood and wold The wild winds to and fro went sighing unconsoled. 2. A cabin stood upon the wooded slope ; From many a crevice fitful firelight streamed, Making the blackness denser, like the hope Which from the settler's broken spirit gleamed, 240 COBB'S SPEAKER. Only to show the dark ! then, where it beamed, Died, leaving all its ashes on his heart 1 And now he gazed into the fire and dreamed Of home, of native mountains wrapped apart, The village and afar the large and steepled mart. 3. He saw the haze lay o'er the landscape green, Where, like a happy thought, the streamlet flowed The fields of waring gran and groves between. Afar the white and winding turnpike glowed, The peopled coach rolled down the dusty road, The shining cattle through the pasture grazed; And all the air seemed trembling with a load Of melody, by birds and children raised : But now, a voice ; a groan ; he started ; stood amazed. 4. Hark ! was 't the wind which eddied round the place, Or mournful trees by wailing tempests tossed ? Or was "t a moan from that pale, wasted face Which from the bed gleamed like a sleeping ghost ? Or Hunger worrying Slumber from his post Amid the little ones ? He only heard The heave of breasts which unknown dreams had crossed, Such dreams as stir the lips but make no word, And heard his own heart beat like an o'er-wearied bird ! 5. A noise ; a tramp amid the crisping snow, Startled his ear ! A large, imploring eye Gleamed at the window with unearthly glow ! Was 't the grim panther which had ventured nigh ? Or ghost condemned, or spirit of the sky ? To grasp the gun his hand contained no force, His arm fell trembling and he knew not why ! He ope'd the door ; there stood a shivering horse, While clung upon his mane a stiff and muffled corse. COBB'S SPEAKER. 241 Oh, Death ! who calls thy aspect terrible ? Is 't he who gazes on the gentle maid Wrapped in her careful shroud ; for whom a knell Steals o'er the village like a twilight shade ; And on whose breast and in whose hands are laid White violets and lilies of the vale, Gems which bloom downward ? Or, like them arrayed, Beholds the child as its own pillow pale, And hears the father's groan and mother's piercing wail ? Who calls thy aspect terrible ? Do they Who gaze on brows the lightning stoops to scath ? Or darker still, on those who fall a prey To jealousy's unsmotherable wrath ? Or they who walk in War's ensanguined path And hear the prayers and curses of distress ? These call thy aspect terrible ! Oh, Death ! More terrible, by far, let those confess, The frozen rider in that frozen wilderness ! LESSON LXXXVII. CHARACTER OF THE IRISH PATRIOTS OF 1*798. S. D. LANGTREE. 1. Never was there an array of purer moral worth, of stronger genius, of more elevated talent, and more unsullied integrity, than the men who appeared in the nation's van in that hopeless but immortal cause, and planned, and all but conducted to the complete success, the most gigantic conspiracy of which we have any record in the world. Of these patriots, and their unhonored memories will have justice yet, the great majority perished on the scaffold ; and never, surely, was there a hecatomb of greater virtue offered at the shrine of startled despotism. 2. Others, banished from their native soil, found refuge in dis- 11 242 COBB'S Si'EAK SB, tant lands, and in tin- blended Lustre of their character and talent , there giving an effulgent evidence of what must have been the brightness of the constellation of which tiny were but the scattered stars, had it ever attained its zenith. And others of them, after wasting their morning prime in dungeon damps, still live in their native land, illustrating in the influence of their spotless lives, the purity of the principles they professed. 3. Among them, the gifted and accomplished Teeling who, after losing a father and a brother, and a princely fortune, in the cause, still remains to do honor to the calumniated creed of Ids compatriots by his character, and to rescue their insulted memories by his talents, not less adorning private life than honoring public principle, and winning even from admiring opponents, for enemies he has none, the warmest cordiality of respect, 4. But the haze of madness will not last forever, and the period is approaching fast, when those terrible times will be honored and described, and perhaps revenged, as they ought; for history, fruit- ful as it is in example, never exhibited in all its fearful conn change more marked than the present state of the British empire, as compared with that appalling period. How strongly now will the prophetic words of the poet of patriotism apply ; " Weep on, perhaps in after day9 They'll learn to love your name, And many a deed shall wake to praise That now must sleep in blame." 5. Yes, now, when the whole British nation, with the British monarch at their head, have recorded their approval before the world, and adopted those very principles, for adhering to whir]], not forty years before, Harvey, Bond, Fitzgerald, Teeling, and a host of others, were branded by relentless power with the traitor's name, and suffered the traitor's death ; now, what measure of retrospective justice should be dealt out upon the actors in that bloody tragedy, and what honors should be paid to those victims of a darker age ! 6. Walks there now no titled miscreant abroad, whom the late COBB'S SPEAKER. 243 events in England will brand, before lie goes to bis great account, with tbe murderer's name and tbe murderer's sin ? Yes, sleep on, calumniated men ; justice bas been done, your characters stand redeemed, your motives unaspersed, and in tbe constitution of 1832, tbe British nation bave erected a moral cenotaph to your memory, prouder than eternal brass, on which is inscribed, in un- fading characters of historic light ; To the Martyrs of 1798. 1. Let us dismiss this subject. How the heart expands with the reflection that these great events are the coming dawn of that day of brightness, when the accumulated miseries of six centuries of oppression will be wiped off and atoned, and that beautiful island, "redeemed, regenerated, and disinthralled," shall take the place among the nations of the earth which God and nature have assigned. Then these victims of a tragic policy will not have died in vain ; and, future times shall take a pleasure in believing that the lamp of their liberation has been lighted at their tombs. LESSON LXXXVIII. THE ADVANTAGES OF A TASTE FOR THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE. PERCIVAL. 1. That perception of, and sensibility to beauty, which, when cultivated and improved, we term taste, is most general and uni- form, with respect to those objects which are not liable to variation from accident, caprice, or fashion. The verdant lawn, the shady grove, the variegated landscape, the boundless ocean, and the starry firmament, are contemplated with pleasure by every beholder. 2. But the emotions of different spectators, though similar in kind, differ widely in degree ; for, to relish with full delight the enchanting scenes of nature, the mind must be incorrupted by avarice, sensuality, or ambition ; quick in her sensibilities, elevated in her sentiments, and devout in her affections. 3. If this enthusiasm were cherished by every individual, in that 244 COBB'S SPEAKER. degree which is consistent with the indispensable duties of his station, the felicity of human life would be considerably augmented, From this .source the refined and vivid pleasures of the imagina- tion are almost entirely < l«i i\ . « 1. The elegant arts <>we their ohoicesi beauties toa taste for the contemplation of nature. 4. Painting and sculpture are express imitations <.f risible objects; and where would be the charms of poetry, if divested of the imagery and embellishments which -he borrows from rural Bcenesl Painters, statuaries, and ] K therefore, an- always am- bitious to acknowledge themselves the pupils of nature ; and, as their ^ki'l increases, they gro* more and more delighted with every view of the animal and vegetable world. ;>. 'lli.' scenes of nature contribute powerfully to inspire that serenity which heightens their beauties, and is accessary to our full enjoyment of them. By a secret sympathy the soul catches the harmony which she contemplates; and the frame within assimilates itself to that without In this Btateofsweel composure, we became susceptible of virtuous impressions from almost every surrounding object Tin- patient "\ is viewed with generous com- placency ; th'- guileless Bheep with pity ; and the playful lamb with emotions of tenderness and love. 6. We rejoice with the horse in his liberty and exemption from toil, while he ranges at large through enamelled pastures. We are charmed with the songs of birds, soothed with the buzz of in- sects, and pleased with the sportive emotions of fishes, because these are expressions of enjoyment ; and, having felt a common interest in the gratifications of inferior beings, we shall be no longer indifferent to their sufferings, or become wantonly instrumental in producing them. 7. But the taste for natural beauty is subservient to higher pur- poses than those which have been enumerated. The cultivation of it not only refines and humanizes, but dignifies and exalts the affec- tions. It elevates them to the admiration and love of that Being, who is the author of all that is fair, sublime, and good, in the creation. Skepticism and irreligion are scarcely compatible with the sensibility of heart which arises from a just and lively relish COBB'S SPEAKER. 245 of the wisdom, harmony, and order subsisting in the world around us. 8. Emotions of piety must spring up spontaneously in the bosom that is in union with all animated nature. Actuated by this beneficial and divine inspiration, man finds a fane in every grove ; and, glowing with devout fervor, he joins his song to the universal chorus, or muses the praises of the Almighty in more expressive silence. LESSON LXXXIX. PROGRESS OF SOCIETY. DR. CHANNING. 1. The happiest feature of our age is, the progress of the mass of the people in intelligence, self-respect, and all the comforts of life. What a contrast does the present form with past times ! Not many years ago, the nation was the property of one man, and all its interests were staked in perpetual games of war, for no end but to build up his family, or to bring new territories under his yoke. 2. Society was divided into two classes, the high-born and the vulgar, separated from each other by a great gulf, as impassable as that between the saved and the lost. The people had no sig- nificance as individuals, but formed a mass, a machine, to be wielded at pleasure by their lords. 3. In war, which was the great sport of the times, those brave knights, of whose prowess we hear, cased themselves and their horses in armor, so as to be almost invulnerable, while the common people on foot were left without protection, to be hewn in pieces or trampled down by their betters. Who, that compares the condi- tion of Europe a few ages ago, with the present state of the world, but must bless God for the change ? 4. The grand distinction of modern times is, the emerging of the people from brutal degradation, the gradual recognition of their rights, the gradual diffusion among them of the means of 246 COBB'S SPEAKER. improvement and happiness, the creation of a Dew power in the state; the power of the people. Lei 08 thank God for what lias been gained. Bui let na not think every thing gamed Let the people feel that they have only itarted in the race, 5. What a vast amount of ignorance, intemperance, I sensuality, may still be found in our community! What a vast amount <»t* mind ■ pakied and lost ! When we think, that every house might be cheered by intelligence, disinterestedness, and re- finement, and then recollect in how many houses the higher pow- en and afiectionB of human nature are buried as in tombs, what a darkneee gathers over society! 6. And how few of us are moved by this moral desolation ! How few understand, that to raise the depressed by a wise cul- ture, to the dignity of man, i^ the highest end of the social state ! Shame on us, that the worth of a fellow-creature is so little felt. Would that I could speak with an awakening voice to the people of their wants, their privileges, their responsibilities. 7. I would say to them, You can not, without guilt and dis- grace, stop where you are. The past and the present call on you to advance. Let what you have gained, be an impulse to some- thing higher. Your nature is too great to be crushed. You were not created what you are, merely to toil, eat, drink, and sleep, like the inferior animals. 8. If you will, you can rise. No power in society, no hardship in your condition, can depress you, or keep you down in knowl- edge, power, virtue, influence, but by your owm consent. Do not be lulled to sleep by the flatteries which you hear, as if your par- ticipation in the national sovereignty made you equal to the no- blest of your race. 9. You have many and great deficiencies to be remedied ; and the remedy lies, not in the ballot-box, not in the exercise of your political powers, but in the faithful education of yourselves and your children. These truths you have often heard and slept over. Awake ! Resolve earnestly on self-culture. Make yourselves wor- thy of your free institutions, and strengthen and perpetuate them by your intelligence and your virtues. COBB'S SPEAKER. 247 LESSON XC, BATTLE OF WARSAW. CAMPBELL. 1. 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 ! 2. Warsaw's last champion, from her height surveyed, Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid ; Oh ! Heaven ! he cried, my bleeding country save ! Is there no hand on high to shield the brave ? Yet, 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 ! 3. He said, and on the rampart-heights arrayed His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed ; Firm-paced, and slow, a horrid front they form, Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm ; Low, murmuring sounds, along their banners fly ; Revenge, or death ; the watchword and reply : Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm, And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm ! 4. In vain, alas ! in vain, ye gallant few ! From rank to rank your volleyed thunder flew : Oh ! bloodiest picture in the book of Time, Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime ; Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her wo ! 248 COBB'S SPEAKER. Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear, Closed her bright eye, and curbed her high career; Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell, And Freedom shrieked, as Kosciusko fell ! 5. Tlir sun went down, nor ceased the carnage t 1 Tumultuous murder shook the midnight air; On Prague's proud arch the fires of E&uiu glow, His blood-dyed waters murmuring Bar below; The storm prevails, the ramparl yields away, Bursts the wild cry of horror and dismay ! Hark! as the smouldering piles with thunder fall, A thousand Bhrieks for hopeless mercy call I Earth shook ; red meteors Sashed along the sky, And conscious Nature shuddered at the cry ! G. Departed spirits of the mighty dead! Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled! Friends of the world ! restore your .-words to man, Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van! Ye! far Sarmatia's tears of bl I atone, And make her arm puissant as your own ! Oh ! once again to Pr loin's cause return, The patriot Tell ; the Bruce of Bannockburn. LESSON XCL NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. JOSEPH STORY. 1. There is, indeed, in the fate of the unfortunate Indians, much to awaken our sympathy, and much to disturb the sobriety of our judgment ; much which may be urged to excuse their own atroci- ties ; much in their character which betrays us into an involuntary admiration. What can be more melancholy than their history. COBB'S SPEAKER. 249 2. By a law of their nature, they seem destined to a slow, but sure extinction. Every where, at the approach of the white man, they fade away. We hear the rustling* of their footsteps, like that of the withered leaves of autumn, and they are gone for ever. They pass mournfully by us, and they return no more. 3. Two centuries ago, the smoke of their wigwams and the fires of their councils rose in every valley from Hudson's Bay to the farthest Florida ; from the ocean to the Mississippi and the lakes. The shouts of victory and the war dance rang through the moun- tains and the glades. The thick arrows and the deadly tomahawk whistled through the forests ; and the hunter's trace, and the dark encampment, startled the wild beasts in their lairs. 4. The warriors stood forth in their glory. The young listened to the songs of other days. The mothers played with their infants, and gazed on the scene with warm hopes of the future. The aged sat down ; but they wept not. They should soon be at rest in fairer regions, where the Great Spirit dwelt in a home, prepared for the brave beyond the western skies. Braver men never lived ; truer men never drew the bow. They had courage, and fortitude, and sagacity, and perseverance, beyond most of the human race. They shrank from no dangers, and they feared no hardships. 5. If they had the vices of savage life, they had the virtues also. They were true to their country, their friends, and their homes. If they forgave not injury, neither did they forget kindness. If their vengeance was terrible, their fidelity and generosity were unconquerable also. Their love, like their hate, stopped not on this side of the grave. 6. But where are they ? Where are the villages, and warriors, and youth ? The sachems and the tribes ? The hunters and their families ? They have perished. They are consumed, the wasting pestilence has not alone done the mighty work. No ; nor famine, nor war. There has been a mightier power, a moral canker, which hath eaten into their heart-cores ; a plague, which the touch of the white man communicated ; a poison, which betrayed them into a fingering ruin. 7. The winds of the Atlantic fan not a single region which they 11* 250 COBB'S SPEAKER. may now call their own. Already the lasl feeble remnants of the race are preparing for their journey beyond the Mississippi. I see them leave their miserable homes; the aged, the linljJri, the •women, and the warriors, "few and faint, yet fearless still." The ashes are cold on their Dative hearths. The smoke no longer curls around their lowly cabins. 8. They move on with a slow, unsteady step. The white man is upon their heels, far terror or despatch ; but they heed him not. They turn to take a last look of their deserted villages. The\ a last glance upon the graves of their fathers. They shed do tears; they otter no cries ; they heave no groans. There is some- thing in their hearts which passes speech. There is something in their looks, not of vengeance, or submission, but of hard nee which stifles both; which chokes all utterance; which has no aim or method. 9. It is courage absorbed in despair. They linger but for a moment. Their look is onward. They have passed the fatal stream. It shall never be repassed by them: no, never. Yet there lies not between us and them an impassable gulf. They know, and feci, that there is for them still one remove farther, not distant nor unseen. It is to the general burial ground of their race. 10. Reason as we may, it is impossible not to read, in such a fate, much that we know not how to interpret; much of provoca- tion to cruel deeds and deep resentments ; much of apology for wrong and perfidy ; much of pity mingling with indignation ; much of doubt and misgivings as to the past ; much of painful recollections ; much of dark foreboding. Philosophy may tell us, that conquest in other cases has adopted the conquered into its own bosom, and thus, at no distant period, given them the com- mon privileges of subjects ; but that the red men are incapable of such an assimilation. 11. By their very nature and character they can neither unite themselves with civil institutions, nor with safety be allowed to re- main as distinct communities. The question, therefore, is necessa- rily reduced to the consideration, whether the country itself shall COBB'S SPEAKER. 251 be abandoned by civilized men, or maintained by bis sword as the right of the stronger. It may be so ; perhaps, in the wisdom of Providence, it must be so. I pretend not to comprehend, or solve such weighty difficulties. 12. But neither philosophy nor policy can shut out the feelings of nature. Humanity must continue to sigh at the constant sacri- fices of this bold, but wasting race. And Religion, if she may not blush at the deed, must, as she sees the successive victims depart, cling to the altar with a drooping heart, and mourn over a destiny without hope and without example. LESSON XCII. PROPELLING POWERS EMPLOYED BY MAN. EXTRACT FROM MR. EWBANK's ANNUAL REPORT, AS COMMISSIONER OP PATENTS, ON THE HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF INVENTION. 1850. 1. Take up man's biography where we will, the first page opens with him roaming the forest ; an untutored animal, preying upon inferior tribes as they prey upon each other. He knows no force but his own, dreams not of employing any, and hence is his own servant in every thing. 2. By and by, as game becomes shy and scarce, he ekes out means of living by cultivating a patch of m audi via or maize ; using a stake for a plough, and a shell for a sickle. In this con- dition, properties of some of the elementary machines unfold them- selves, as those of the wedge, inclined plane, and lever. In his club he realizes those of the hammer, which has claims to a place among them. Still, he remains a wild man, a savage. 3. While there is a wide disparity between man's muscular power and the requirements of civilization, there is an observable proportion between it and his wants as an unreclaimed animal. The required outlay to procure the first necessaries is neither too much nor too little. In the savage and semi-savage condition he 252 COBB'S SPEAKER. has strength to build a hut, hunt, dig, plant, and reap a sufficiency for himself and family; but had these essentia] taski required double the labor that they do, the race would have sunk under it ere the art of calling in foreign aid had been acquired. 4. On the other hand, if food, clothing, and fuel had been at- tainable with half tin- exertion, indolence and every evil passion would have prevailed : hence, the wisdom of Providence in forbid- ding the earth to yield tin- means of existence, except in return for such an expenditure of labor as would train him in the first stages of his career to habite of industry, and prepare him for disciplining higher faculties by another Bpeciea of activity, 5. It is true, the amount of indispensable labor differs in differ- ent parts of the earth. In the Torrid Zone, the >"il is prolific, fruits are perennial, and in rich abundance, little is required for shelter and less for clothing ; an equalizing principle is, however, every where apparent. There men are less able to work, and their energies are sooner exhausted than in temperate climes, hut exer- tion is inevitable. They also are forced to labor in order to live. 6. In the next stage he plants more and hunts less. The social qualities of his being open, and higher views of existence flit be- fore him. His hut in the woods is abandoned for the village cabin. Primitive manufacturers arise, improve, and multiply. Agriculture is more and more appreciated, and with increasing demands for it, the value of labor is felt ; he wants more than he has ; human strength is not great, and is soon exhausted ; in his need he reflects, and reflection brings help. 7. There are quadrupeds stronger than he, and of greater en- durance ; why should they idle away their existence, and he be compelled to daily toil ? Why not make some of them work for him ? Thus he reasons, and, according to climate and other exi- gencies, acts. Hence, Laplanders yoke reindeer, and Esquimaux dogs to their sledges. The Arab early seized the dromedary and camel as his drudges, and other people the ox. The slender Hindoo and the Malay bring in the elephant from his native jungles for the same purpose. Finally, the horse, mule, and ass were added to the list, and the era of Animal Forces exhibited in relief. COBB'S SPEAKER. 253 8. Other creatures were also educated for man's profit or pleas- ure in a less general way. Goats and dogs were trained to climb in tread-wheels, and bears were broken into the same kind of labor by Scandinavian tribes. Then there was hawking, leopard-bunt- ing, and fishing with cormorants, as still practised by the Chinese. Old Egyptians taught baboons to gather fruit from precipices and trees inaccessible to man. The Chinese still employ them, and monkeys, at similar work. 9. From the excess of power with which some animals are en- dowed, it may be inferred that they were designed to serve as co- laborers with man. Were this not so, it would be difficult to as- sign the reason why the larger quadrupeds, that have been domes- ticated, possess a surplus of strength far beyond what their natural emergencies require, while to us, we who stand in the greatest need of it, so small a share has been given. 10. As all active forces on the globe are derived from bodies living, or inert, it was Nature's suggestion first to turn to the larger quadrupeds ; the most decided step this towards civilization ! In what a lamentable state would our species be now, had it yet to be taken ! From the comparative docility of despotism, herbiv- orous tribes were properly selected. 11. The power exercised by man over animals is one of the most remarkable episodes in his history. It is miraculous, but, like other miracles, having become familiar, it ceases to surprise. They are plastic almost as clay in his hands ; for, he models them as his fancy and wishes suggest. Selecting some as laborers, he adds muscle and bone, or withdraws them as strength or speed is required. 12. Thus, he produces race and draught-horses from one stock, and works equal changes in porcine, bovine, ovine, and canine families. Of fowls ; take pigeons for example ; their figures are so far under his control that he multiplies varieties till every apparent affinity with the original is lost ; their colors, too, producing spots where he pleases, or, as the professional expression is, " breeding these birds to a feather." 13. Large numbers of animals are employed as chemical manip- 254 COBB'S SPEAKER. ulators for the production of such substances as he finds useful for his purposes, and which he compels them to yield in larger quantities than they would or could give out without him. He controls the qualities of these products also ; eliciting in i constituent elements that he most desir< 14. Of insects he keeps myriads at work as confectioners ; other tribes as spinners, and others again as druggists, to supply him with dyes. We may boast of interesting compounds which modern chemistry has furnished; but, what arc they compared to the products of these living laboratories; laboratories the most valuable of which lit.' has improved and multiplied, and will, until analogous results, at a cheaper rate, are obtained from artificial apparatus. 15. Had nothing been told us of ancient American Arts, we might have inferred the amount of refinement pervading Chili and Peru from one fact alone; the employment of the Llama as a beast of burden, the only one within reach ; a step this, which tribes wholly untutored never took. 16. The aborigines of the North had the bison ; and, in the proportion that its strength exceeds that of the Arabian Camel, would they have excelled their Austral kindred, had they broken it to the yoke. They neglected to improve the talent committed to their charge, and are compelled to make way for those who will. The bison for unknown ages has been used in tilling the soils of Asia and Africa ; had our Indians pressed it into the same service here, they would not now be as fugitives and vagabonds in the land of their fathers. 17. The vast multitude of bisons slain yearly, the ceaseless war carried on against them, if continued, threatens their extermination, and must hereafter cause deep regret. It has been remarked, that every addition a country receives from art tends to drive away animals fitted only to flourish in a state of nature ; but here, in the absence of art, the very agents to introduce it, creatures adapted above all others to human servitude, are wantonly destroyed. 18. Their great strength and docility when tamed, and their capacity for being drilled to the yoke, ought surely to put some COBB'S SPEAKEK. 255 limit to their wholesale butchery. Savages kill them for food, while men of another shade, who ought to know better, join in the slaughter for the pleasure of the hunt, and sometimes, it would seem, for material for a paragraph. 19. But for this genus, it is doubtful if man had ever perma- nently emerged from the forest. As the first ordained and most profitable of his assistants for working the soil, it should never be said that the noblest of indigenous ruminants have become extinct. As predial laborers, they belong to the most precious of quadru- pedal existences ; and, viewed in that character alone, their wanton destruction should be arrested. 20. Reproductive locomotive engines, they offer a power avail- able to turn the wildernesses and prairies they inhabit into corn- fields and gardens. " Onward !" is the standing order of God. Those who refuse to obey must be pushed aside; such is the inflexible fiat of heaven. They who prostrate their judgment to then* sympathies, are at a loss to reconcile the melting of the red race and the seizure of their lands by the whites, with a superin- tendino: Providence. LESSON XCIII. THE WRECK. MRS. HEMANS. 1. All night the booming minute gun Had pealed along the deep, And mournfully the rising sun Looked o'er the tide-worn steep. A bark from India's coral strand, Before the raging blast, Had veiled her topsails to the sand, And bowed her noble mast. 256 COBB'S SPEAKER. 2. The queenly ship ! brave hearts had striven, And trile ones died with her; We saw her mighty cable riven, Like float uner. We saw her proud flag struck that morn, A star once o'er the seas, Her anchor gone, her deck uptorn, And sadder tilings than these. 3. We saw her treasures cast away; The rocks with pearls were sown, And, strangely Bad, the ruby's ray Flashed out o'er fretted stone. And gold was strown tin- wet sands o'er, Jake ashes by a breeze, And gorgeous robes : but oh ! that shore Had sadder things than these. 4. We saw the strong man still and low, A crushed reed thrown aside ; Yet, by that rigid lip and brow, Not without strife he died. And near him, on the sea-weed lay : Till then we had not wept, But well our gushing hearts might say That there a mother slept. 5. For her pale arms a babe had pressed, With such a wreathing grasp, Billows bad dashed o'er that fond breast, Yet not undone the clasp. Her very tresses had been flung, To wrap the fair child's form, Where still their wet long streamers clung All tangled by the storm. COBB'S SPEAKER. 257 6. And beautiful, 'mid that wild scene, Gleamed up the boy's dead face, Like slumbers, trustingly serene, In melancholy grace. Deep in her bosom lay his head, With half shut violet eye : He had known little of her dread, Naught of her agony. 7. Oh, human Love ! whose yearning heart, Through all things vainly true, So stamps upon thy mortal part Its passionate adieu. Surely thou hast another lot, There is some home for thee, Where thou shalt rest, remembering not The moaning of the sea ! LESSON XCIY. THE WINDS. MISS GOULD. 1. We come ! we come ! and ye feel our might, As we're hastening on in our boundless flight, And over the mountains, and over the deep, Our broad, invisible pinions sweep Like the spirit of liberty, wild and free ! And ye look on our works, and own 'tis we ; Ye call us the Winds ; but can ye tell Whither we go, or where we dwell ? 2. Ye mark, as we vary our forms of power, And fell the forest, or fan the flower ; When the harebell moves, and the rush is bent ; When the tower's o'erthrown, and the oak is rent 258 COBB'S SPEAKER. As we wait the baik o'er the slumbering \\ Or hurry its crew to a watery grave ; And ye say it ifl wv ; bat can ye i The wand'ring Winds to their secret place? 3. And, whether our breath be loud and high, Or come in a soft and balmy sigh, Our threat'ninge till the soul with fear, Or our gentle whisperings woo the With music aerial : still, 'tis We, And ye li-t, and ye look ; lmt what do ye see ? Can ye hush one sound of our voice to peace, Or waken one not,-, when our iramben ceai 4. Our dwelling is in the Almighty's hand; We come and we go at His command. Though joy or sorrow may mark our track, His will is our guide, and we look not back: And if, in our wrath, ye would turn us away, Or win us in gentlest airs to play, Then lift up your hearts to Him who binds Or frees, as He will, the obedient Winds ! LESSON XCV. ADAMS AND NAPOLEON. WILLIAM H. SEWARD. 1. Only two years after the birth of John Quincy Adams, there appeared on an island in the Mediterranean Sea, a Human Spirit, endowed with equal genius, without the regulating qualities of Justice and Benevolence which Adams possessed in such an eminent degree. 2. A like career opened to both. Born, like Adams, a subject of a king ; the child of more genial skies, like him, became in early life a patriot and a citizen of a new and great republic. Like COBB'S SPEAKER. 259 Adams, he lent his service to the State in precocious youth, and its hour of need, and won its confidence. But unlike Adams, he could not wait the dull delays of slow and laborious, but sure advancement. 3. He sought power by the hasty road that leads through fields of carnage, and he became, like Adams, a Supreme Magistrate, a Consul. But there were other Consuls. He was not content. He thrust them aside, and was Consul alone. Consular power was too short ; he fought new battles, and was Consul for life. 4. But power, confessedly derived from the people, must be exercised in obedience to their will, and must be resigned to them again, at least in death. He was not content. He desolated Europe afresh, subverted the republic, imprisoned the patriarch who presided over Rome's comprehensive See, and obliged him to pour on his head the sacred oil that made the persons of kings divine, and their right to reign indefeasible. He was an Emperor. 5. But he saw around him a mother, brothers and sisters, not ennobled, whose humble state reminded him and the world that he was born a plebeian. He had no heir to wait impatient for the imperial crown. He scourged the earth again and again. For- tune smiled on him even in his wild extravagance. He bestowed kingdoms and principalities on his kindred ; put away the devoted wife of his youthful days, and another, a daughter of Hapsburg's imperial house, joyfully accepted the proud alliance. 6. Offspring gladdened his anxious sight ; a diadem was placed on his infant's brow, and it received the homage of princes even in its cradle. Now he was indeed a monarch ; a legitimate monarch ; a monarch by divine appointment ; the first of an end- less succession of monarchs. But there were other monarchs who held sway in the earth. He was not content. He would reign with his kindred alone. He gathered new and greater armies from his own land, from subjugated lands. He called forth the young and the brave, one from every household ; from the Pyrenees to the Zuyder Zee; from Jura to the ocean. He marshalled them into long and majestic columns, and went forth to seize that universal dominion, which seemed almost within his grasp. 260 COBB'S SPEAKER. 7. But ambition had tempted fortune too far. Tin- nations of the earth resisted, rebelled, punned, and Burrounded him, The pageant was ended. The crown fell from his preaiimptuoua head. The wife who had wedded him in hia pride, forsook him when fear came upon him. J lis child was ravished from his sight Bis kinsmen were degraded to their first estate, and In; w;i> no l< Emperor, nor Consul, nor General, nor even a eitiaen, but an exile and a prisoner OH a lonely island in the midst of the wild At- lantic 8. Discontent attended him there. The wayward man fretted out a few lonely yean of hia yei unbroken manhood, looking off, at the earliest dawn and the evening's twilight, towards that dis- tant world that bad only just eluded hia grasp. lli> bean < cor- roded. Death came, not unloosed for, though it came, even then, unwelcome, lie was stretched on the bed within the fort which constituted the prison, a few feat and faithful friends stood around him, with the guards who rejoiced that the hour of ivlief, from long and wearied watching, was at hand. 9. As his strength wasted away, delirium stirred up the brain from its long and inglorious inactivity. The pageant of ambition returned. He was again a Lieutenant and a General, a Consul, an Emperor of France. He filled again the throne of Charle- magne. His kindred pressed around him, again invested with the pompous pageantry of royalty. The daughter of the long line of kings again stood proudly by his side, and the sunny face of his child shone out from beneath the diadem that encircled its flowing locks. The marshals of the empire waited his command. 1 0. The legions of the Old Guard were in the field, and their scarred faces rejuvenated, and their ranks, thinned in many battles, replenished. Russia, Prussia, Austria, Denmark, and England, gathered their mighty hosts to give him battle. Once more he mounted his impatient charger, and rushed forth to conquest. He waved his sword aloft, and cried, " Tete d' Armee !" The feverish vision broke, the mockery was ended. The silver cord was loosed, and the warrior fell back upon his bed a lifeless corpse. The CoRSICAN WAS NOT CONTENT ! COBB'S SPEAKER. 261 LESSON XCVI. THE EFFECTS OF A DISSOLUTION OF THE FEDERAL UNION. HAMILTON. 1. Assuming it, therefore, as an established truth, that, in case of disunion the several states, or such combinations of them as might happen to be formed out of the wreck of the general con- federacy, would be subject to those vicissitudes of peace and war, of friendship and enmity with each other, which have fallen to the lot of all other nations not united under one government, let us enter into a concise detail of some of the consequences that would attend such a situation. 2. War between the states, in the first periods of their separate existence, would be accompanied with much greater distresses than it commonly is in those countries where regular military establishments have long obtained. The disciplined armies always kept on foot on the continent of Europe, though they bear a ma- lignant aspect to liberty and economy, have, notwithstanding, been productive of the singular advantage of rendering sudden conquests impracticable, and of preventing that rapid desolation which used to mark the progress of war prior to their introduction. 3. The art of fortification has contributed to the same ends. The nations of Europe are encircled with chains of fortified places, which mutually obstruct invasion. Campaigns are wasted in re- ducing two or three fortified garrisons, to gain admittance into an enemy's country. Similar impediments occur at every step, to exhaust the strength and delay the progress of an invader. 4. Formerly, an invading army would penetrate into the heart of a neighboring country almost as soon as intelligence of its approach would be received; but now, a comparatively small force of disciplined troops, acting on the defensive, with the aid of posts, is able to impede, and finally to frustrate, the purposes of one much more considerable. The history of war in that quarter of the globe is no longer a history of nations subdued and empires overturned ; but of towns taken and retaken, of battles that de- 262 COBB'S SPEAKKi;. cide nothing, of retreats more beneficial than victories, of much effort and little acquisition. 5. In this oountrj the Boene would be altogether reversed. The jealousy of military establishments would postpone them as bag at possible. The want of fortifications, leaving the frontier of one state open to another, would facilitate inroads. The populous states would with little difficulty overrun tln-ir l«*>s populous neighbors. Conquests would I"- ss easy to be made as difficult to be retained. War, therefore, would be desultory and predatory. Plunder and devastation ever march in the train of irregulars. The calamitio of individual would ever make the principal figure in events, and would characterize our exploits, G. This picture is n«»t too highly wrought ; though, I confess, it would not long remain a just one. Safety from external danger is the most powerful director of national conduct, liven the ar- dent love of liberty will, after a time, give way to its dictates. The violent destruction of life and property incident to war, the continual effort and alarm attendant on a state of continual dan- ger, will compel nations the most attached to liberty to resort for repose and security, to institutions which have a tendency to de- stroy their civil and political rights. To be more safe, they would, at length, become willing to run the risk of being less free. 1. The institutions chiefly alluded to are STANDI X< I ARMIES, and the corresponding appendages of military establishments. Standing armies, it is said, are not provided against in the new constitution ; and it is thence inferred that they would exist under it. This inference, from the very form of the proposition, is at best problematical and uncertain. But standing armies, it may be re- plied, must inevitably result from a dissolution of the confederacy. Frequent war and constant apprehension, which require a state of as constant preparation, will infallibly produce them. 8. The weaker states or confederacies would first have recourse to them, to put themselves on an equality with their more potent neighbors. They would endeavor to supply the inferiority of population and resources by a more regular and effective system of defence, by disciplined troops, and by fortifications. They would, at COBB'S SPEAKER. 263 the same time, be obliged to strengthen the executive arm of government ; in doing which their constitutions would require a progressive direction towards monarchy. It is the nature of war to increase the executive, at the expense of the legislative authority. 9. The expedients which have been mentioned would soon give the states or confederacies that made use of them, a superiority over their neighbors. Small states, or states of less natural strength, under vigorous governments, and with the assistance of disciplined armies, have often triumphed over large states, or states of greater natural strength, which have been destitute of these advantages. 10. Neither the pride nor the safety of the important states or confederacies, would permit them long to submit to this mortifying and adventitious superiority. They would quickly resort to means similar to those by winch it had been effected, to re-instate them- selves in their lost pre-eminence. Thus we should, in a little time, see established in every part of this country the same engines of despotism which have been the scourge of the old world. 11. This, at least, would be the natural course of things ; and our reasonings will be likely to be just, in proportion as they are accommodated to this standard. These are not vague inferences, deduced from speculative defects in a constitution; the whole power of which is lodged in the hands of the people, or their representatives and delegates ; they are solid conclusions, drawn from the natural and necessary progress of human affairs. LESSON XCVII. PATRIOTISM AND ELOQUENCE OF JOHN ADAMS. WEBSTER. 1. He possessed a bold spirit, which disregarded danger, and a sanguine reliance on the goodness of the cause and the virtues of the people, which led him to overlook all obstacles. His character, too, had been formed in troubled times. He had been rocked in the early storms of the controversy, and had acquired a decision 26J: COBB'S SPEAKER. and a hardihood proportioned to the severity of the discipline irhieh lie had undergone. 2. II<' not only Loved the American cause devoutly, but bad studied and understood it. II<- had tried hi> powers, on the ques- tions which it involved, often, and in various ways; and had brought to their consideration w hatever of argument or illustration the history of hi- own country, the history of England, or the of ancient or of Legal Learning, could furnish. I evance enumerated in the Long catalogue of the Declaration, had been the Bubjecl of his discussion, and the object of bis remonstrance and reprobation. 3. Prom L760, the colonies, the rights of the colonies, the Lib- erties of the colonies, and the wrongs inflicted on the colonies, had engaged bis constant attention; and, it has surprised those who have h;iM age, to every act of parliament affecting the colonies, distinguishing and Btating their respective titles, sections, and pro- visions; and to all the colonial memorials, remonstrances, and pe- titions, with whatever else belonged to the intimate and exact his- tory of the time-, from that year to 1775. 4. It was, in his own judgment, between these years, that the American people came to a full understanding and thorough knowledge of their rights, and to a fixed resolution of maintaining them ; and, bearing himself au active part in all important trans- actions, the controversy with England being then, in effect, the business of his life, facts, dates, and particulars made an impression which was never effaced. He was prepared, therefore, by educa- tion and discipline, as well as by natural talent and natural tem- perament, for the part which he was now to act. 5. The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his general character, and formed, indeed, a part of it. It was bold, manly, and energetic ; and such the crisis required. When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valuable in speech, farther than it is connected with high intellectual and moral COBB'S SPEAKER. 265 endowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness are the qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence, indeed, does not con- sist in speech. It can not be brought from far. Labor and learn- ing may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they can not compass it. 6. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire after it ; they can not reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain from the earth, or the burst- ing forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments, and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their own lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and their country, hang on the decision of the hour. Then words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. 7. Even genius itself then feels rebuked, and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then patriotism is eloquent ; then self-devotion is eloquent. The clear conception, out-running the deductions of logic ; the high purpose, the firm resolve, the daunt- less spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, inform- ing every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to his object ; this, this is eloquence ; or, rather, it is something greater and higher than all eloquence ; it is action, noble, sub- lime, godlike action. 8. In July, 11 *l 6, the controversy had passed the stage of argu- ment. An appeal had been made to force, and opposing armies were in the field. Congress, then, was to decide whether the tie which had so long bound us to the parent state, was to be severed at once, and severed for ever. All the colonies had signified their resolution to abide by this decision, and the people looked for it with the most intense anxiety. And surely, fellow-citizens, never, never were men called to a more important political deliberation. 9. If we contemplate it from the point where they then stood, no question could be more full of interest ; if we look at it now, and judge of its importance by its effects, it appears in still greater magnitude. Let us, then, bring before us the assembly, which 12 260 COBB'S SPEAK BR. was about to decide a question thus big with the fata "1* empire. Let us open their doors, and look in upon their debberationt. Letf us survey the anxious and care-worn countenances, lei us beat 1 1 1* j firm-toned voices, of this hand of patriots. 10. Hancock presides <>vi the solemn sitting; and, on those not yet prepared to pronounce foT absolute inde] on the Boor, and i> urging his reasons for dissenting from the Declaration. It was for Mr. A. lam- t°> reply to argument! like these. We know his opinions, and we know bis character, lie would commence, with his accustomed directness and earnestness, as we may BUppOSe, as follows : 11. ''Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand, and my heart, to this rote. It is true, indeed, that, in the beginning, we aimed not at independence. But there i> a j)i- vinity which shapes our ends. The injustice of England has driven us to arms; and. Minded to her own interest, for our good, she has obstinately persisted, till independence is now within our grasp. We have but to reach forth to it, and it i- ours. Why, then, should we defer the Declaration I Is any man so weak as now to hope for a reconciliation with England, which shall leave either safety to the country and its liberties, or safety to hil life, and his own honor I 12. "Are you not, sir, who sit in that chair, is not he, our ven- erable colleague near you, are you not both already the proscribed and predestined objects of punishment and of vengeance ? Cut oft' from all hope of royal clemency, what are you, what can you be, while the power of England remains, but outlaws ? If we post- pone independence, do we mean to carry on, or to give up the war? Do we mean to submit to the measures of parliament, Boston port-bill and all ? Do we mean to submit, and consent that we ourselves shall be ground to powder, and our country and its rights trodden down in the dust ? 13. "I know we do not mean to submit. We never shall submit. Do we intend to violate that most solemn obligation ever entered into by men, that plighting, before God, of our sacred honor to Washington, when, putting him forth to incur the dangers of war, COBB'S SPEAKEK. 267 as well as the political hazards of the times, we promised to adhere to him, in every extremity, with our fortunes and our lives ? I know there is not a man here, who would not rather see a general conflagration sweep over the land, or an earthquake sink it, than one jot or tittle of that plighted faith fall to the ground. 14. "For myself, having, twelve months ago, in this place, moved you that George Washington be appointed commander of the forces, raised or to be raised, for defence of American liberty, may my right hand forget her cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate or waver in the support I give him. The war, then, must go on. We must fight it through. And if the war must go on, why put off longer the Declaration of Independence ? That measure will strengthen us. It will give us character abroad. The nations will then treat with us, which they never can do while we acknowledge ourselves subjects, in arms against our sovereign. 15. " Nay, I maintain that England herself will sooner treat for peace with us on the footing of independence, than consent, by re- pealing her acts, to acknowledge that her whole conduct towards us has been a course of injustice and oppression. Her pride will be less wounded, by submitting to that course of things which now predestinates our independence, than by yielding the points of controversy to her rebellious subjects. The former, she would regard as the result of fortune ; the latter, she would feel as her own deep disgrace. Why then, why then, sir, do we not, as soon as possible, change this from a civil to a national war ? And, since we must fight it through, why not put ourselves in a state to enjoy all the benefits of victory, if we gain the victory ? 16. "If we fail, it can be no worse for us. But we shall not fail. The cause will raise up armies ; the cause will create navies. The people, the people, if we are true to them, will cany us,, and will carry themselves, gloriously through this struggle. I care not how fickle other people have been found. I know the people of these colonies, and I know that resistance to British aggression is deep and settled in their hearts, and can not be eradicated. Every 268 COBB'S B I'KA K E EL colony, indeed, has expressed it^ willingness to follow, if we but take the lead. 17. "Sir, the Declaration will inspire the people with be* courage, [nstead of a long and bloody war for restoration of privileges, for redress of grievances, for chartered immunities, held under a British king, set before them the glorious object of entire independence, and it will breathe into them anew the breath of life. Read this Declaration at the bead of the army; sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn row ot- tered, to maintain it, or to perish on the bed of honor. 18. "Publish it from the pnlpit; religion will approve it, and the love of religious Liberty will cling around it, resolved to stand with it, or fall with it. Bend it to the public halls; proclaim it there; let them hear it, who heard the firsl roar of the enemy's cannon; let them see it, who saw their brothers and their sons fall on the field of Bunker-hill, and in the Btreets of Lexington and Concord, and the rery walls will cry out in it- Bupport 19. " sir. I know the uncertainty of human affiurs, bat I see, 1 see clearly, through this day's business. Von and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live to the time when this Declaration shall be made good. We may die; die, colonists ; die, slaves; die, it may be, ignommiously, and on the scaffold. 15«* it so. Be it bo. If it be the pleasure of Heaven thai my country shall require the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready, at the appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But, while I do live, let me have a country, or at least the hope of a country, and that a free country. 20. " But, whatever may be our fate, be assured, be assured, that this Declaration will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood ; but it will stand, and it will richly compensate for both. Through the thick gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the future, as the sun in heaven. We shall make this a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in our graves, our children will honor it. They will celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, with bonfires and illuminations. 21. "On its annual return they will shed tears, copious, gush- COBB'S SPEAKER. 269 ing tears, not of subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I have, and all that I am, and all that I hope in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it ; and, I leave off, as I began, that, live or die, survive or perish, I am for the Declaration. It is my living sentiment, and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment ; independence now : and independence for ever." LESSON XCVIII. SPEECH OF THE SCYTHIAN AMBASSADORS TO ALEXANDER THE GREAT. QUINTUS CURTIUS. 1. If your person were as gigantic as your desires, the world would not contain you. Your right hand would touch the east, and your left the west, at the same time. You grasp at more than you are equal to. From Europe you reach Asia ; from Asia you lay hold on Europe. And if you should conquer all mankind, you seem disposed to wage war with woods and snows, with rivers and wild beasts, and to attempt to subdue Nature. 2. But have you considered the usual course of things ? Have you reflected, that great trees are many years in growing to their height, and are cut down in an hour ? It is foolish to think of the fruit only, without considering the height you have to climb to come at it. Take care lest, while you strive to reach the top, you fall to the ground with the branches on which you have laid hold. 3. Besides, what have you to do with the Scythians, or the Scythians with you ? We have never invaded Macedon ; why should you attack Scythia ? We have conquered those who have attempted to tyrannise over us in our own country, and likewise the kings of the Medes and Persians, when they made unjust war upon us ; and, we have opened to ourselves a way into Egypt. 270 COB 15 "S Sl'KAKKK. You pretend to be die puniaher of robbers, and are yourself tbe general robber of mankind. Xou have taken Lydia; yea bare seised Syria; yon are master of Persia; you have subdued the Bactriana, and attacked Int' which only increases your avarice. You increase your hunger by what should produce satiety ; so that the more you have, the more you desire. Bat have you forgotten how long the conquest of the Bactrians detained you? While you were subduing than, the tans revolted. 5. Your victories serve to no other purpose, than to find you employment by producing new wars ; for, the business of every conquest is twofold ; to win, and to preserve ; and though you may be the greatest of warriors, you must expect that the nations you conquer will endeavor to shake off the yoke as fast as possible ; for, what j^eople choose to be under foreign dominion ? 6. If you will cross the Tanais, you may travel over Scythia, and observe how extensive a territory we inhabit. But to conquer us is qaita another business : you will find us, at one time, too nimble for your pursuit ; and, at another time, when you think we are fled tar niough from you, you will have us surprise you in your camp ; for, the Scythians attack with no less vigor than they flee. Why should we put you in mind of the vastness of the country you will have to conquer ? The deserts of Scythia are commonly talked of in Greece ; and, all the world knows, that our delight is to dwell at large, and not in towns or plantations. 7. It will, therefore, be your wisdom to keep, with strict attention, what you have gained ; catching at more, you may lose what you have. We have a proverbial saying in Scythia, that Fortune has no feet, and is furnished only with hands to distribute her capricious favors ; and with fins to elude the grasp of those to whom she has been bountiful. 8. Y'ou give yourself out to be a god, the son of Jupiter Ammon. It suits the character of a god to bestow favors on mortals, not to COBB'S SPEAKER. 271 deprive them of what they have. But, if you be no god, reflect on the precarious condition of humanity. You will thus show more wisdom than by dwelling on those subjects which have puffed up your pride, and made you forget yourself. 9. You see how little you are likely to gain by attempting the conquest of Scythia. On the other hand, you may, if you please, have in us a valuable ally. We command the borders both of Europe and Asia. There is nothing between us and Bactria but the river Tanais ; and, our territory extends to Thrace, which, as we have heard, borders on Macedon. If you decline attacking us in a hostile manner, you may have our friendship. 10. Nations, which have never been at war, are on an equal footing ; but, it is in vain that confidence is reposed in a conquered people. There can be no sincere friendship between the oppressors and the oppressed ; even in peace, the latter think themselves en- titled to the rights of war against the former. We will, if you think good, enter into a treaty with you, according to our manner, which is, not by signing, sealing, and taking the gods to witness, as is the Grecian custom ; but by doing actual services. 11. The Scythians are not used to promise; but, to perform without promising. And they think an appeal to the gods super- fluous ; for, that those who have no regard for the esteem of men, will not hesitate to offend the gods by perjury. You may, there- fore, consider with yourself, whether you had better have a peo- ple of such a character, and so situated as to have it in their power either to serve you or to annoy you, according as you treat them, as allies or as enemies. LESSON XCIX. A MOTHER'S LOVE. MONTGOMERY. A Mother's Love ; how sweet the name ! What is a mother's love ? A noble, pure, and tender flame, Enkindled from above, 272 COBB'S SPEAKER. To blew b head of earthly mould ; The wannest love that can grow cold ; This is a mother's love. 2. To bring a helpless babe t" light, Then, \\ bile it lies forlorn, To gaze upon that dearesl sight, And feel herself Dew-born, In it- existence lose her "\\ d, And li\<' and breathe in it alone ; This i- a mother's 1"\'-. 3. Its weakness in her arm- t.» bear ; To cherish on her breast, Feed i1 from Love's own fountain there, And lull it there t<< rest ; Then, while it Blumbers, watch it- breath, As if to guard from instant death; This i- a mother's l"\'-. 4. To mark it< growth from May today, Its opening charm- admire, Catch from its eye the earliest ray Of intellectual fire ; To smile and listen when it talks, And lend a finger when it walk- ; This is a mother's love. 5. And can a mother's love grow cold ? Can she forget her boy ? His pleading innocence behold, Nor weep for grief; for joy ? A mother may forget her child, "While wolves devour it on the wild ; Is this a mother's love ? COBB'S SPEAKER. 273 6. Ten thousand voices answer, " No !" Ye clasp your babes and kiss ; Your bosoms yearn, your eyes o'erflow ; Yet, ah ! remember this ; The infant, reared alone for earth, May live, may die, to curse his birth ; Is this a mother's love ? 7. A parent's heart may prove a snare ; The child she loves so well, Her hand may lead, with gentlest care, Down the smooth road to hell ; Nourish its frame, destroy its mind ; Thus do the blind mislead the blind, Even with a mother's love. 8. Blest infant ! whom his mother taught Early to seek the Lord, And poured upon his dawning thought The day-spring of the Word ; This was the lesson to her son, Time is eternity begun ; Behold that mother's love ! 9. Blest mother ! who, in wisdom's path, By her own parent trod, Thus, taught her son to flee the wrath, And know the fear of God ; Ah ! youth, like him enjoy your prime, Begin eternity in time, Taught by that mother's love. 10. That mother's love ! how sweet the name! What was that mother's love ? The noblest, purest, most tender flame, That kindles from above 12* 274 COBB'S SPEAK EK. Within a heart of earthly mould ; As much of heaven at heart can hold, Nor through eternity grows cold; This was that mother's love. LESSON Q KXIBJLOH WBOM AN address delivered at the opening of iiii: ii \ii. OF HO m:\v.\kk (n. j.) library association, WMB. 1848. KKV. .-AMI Kl. I. I'RIME. 1. Rejoicing together, this evening, in the progress of this no- ble work, lei ns now refresh our minds in the anticipation of those pleasures which we shall share with each other within these walls. Addressing, as I do, an intellectual assembly, engaged in a 1/ enterprise and aiming at the general diffusion of knowledge for the improvement of the common mind, I do not doubt, that I shall have universal coasenl to the proposition, that all the pleasures of a rational being should centre in the souL 2. The lion ha- his pleasures, and the land). The sources of happiness open to each are adapted to their respective natures ; and, pursuing those tastes implanted by infinite wisdom and be- nevolence, they carry out the ends for which they were created. Happiness is a legitimate object of pursuit, worthy of a creature of God, and promised as an endless reward of those who love him. The creature with a mind to reason, to comprehend, to study, to advance towards perfection, may debase himself by the pursuit of sensual pleasures ; may poach on the manor of the brute and quarrel with the ox for his husks, or dispute the kennel with the dog, but he is out of the line of his destiny. 3. A good dinner gratifies the palate of an epicure ; but the pleasure is shared with every carnivorous animal. Pleasures that flow to the soul through the organs of sense, as the pleasures of appetite, of equipage, of dress, of sumptuous living, are shared in COBB'S SPEAKER. 275 common with the lower orders of being, and are enjoyed in greater or less profusion, as industry or fortune provides them. The miser who nightly draws his chest from its lurking-place to add his gold, while his heart glows joyously over his hard-gotten heap, is despised. But had he taken a portion of his gold to the smith to be beaten into platters to stand on his sideboard and adorn his table loaded with delicious viands, and into cups to hold his sparkling wine ; had he given a portion of his gold in exchange for a carriage and proud bays to draw it with him in it, the world would envy him as a happy man. 4. A miser is called a miser-able man. The millionaire in his chariot and palace, is reckoned among the blessed. But tell me, ye who are able to calculate the difference of exchange, and can weigh the pleasures that become an immortal, rational mind, and have some adequate conception of what the capacity is and the proper destiny of the spirit of man, tell me why the raiser is not as happy with his ingots as in houses and horses ! In neither case is the pleasure co-existent in the same sphere with that order of being to which God, angels, and men belong. In both cases the animal instincts have been sharpened and guided by the power of rational mind, and then prostituted to the pursuit of en- joyment in channels that no animal but man would choose. 5. All other enjoyment is shared with the brute and would be man's, if there were no books, no thoughts, no converse with spirit, no heaven. Under the brightness of this truth, the value of books appears. We ought to give more time to thinking, and by the sole power of our own faculties make progress in knowledge. " There is one art," says Coleridge, himself an example and teacher of its power, " of which every man should be master, the art of reflection. If you are not a thinking man, for what purpose are you a man at all ?" 6. But life is short, and labors are many and pressing : few have time, and fewer have power to learn without books or by the ear. We must read and learn. Books are savings-banks, in which one generation deposites its earnings for the use of the next : they add their earnings to the store, and thus the capital is 276 COBB'S SPEAK KB. increased from age to age. Learning hath this advantage, thai giving does no* empoverish, and withholding doei aol enrich. 7. Hie highest wisdom is in the revelation of its Author, and the stream- that flow from that Bouroe are many ami full : their banks are fertile, their waters Bweet, and he who drinks shall ■ever thirst Desoending from this high source, the writings of who have tasted the springs of divine truth; and, next to I the work- of the leaned in every region of though n at, iiu r such fields of investigation as ever in\it<\ but never ex- haual the study of the inquiring mind. Is it pleasure then you seek? And have you a mind that is formed for communion with the wis.- and it down in the alcoves of a library at the feet of these illustrious men whose BhadowB fall solemnly on the track of time, and commune with them reverently and joyously. Hie man of many cares, whose spirit pressed in life's struggle, often longs for r<--t, shall turn from the toils of&a daily service, and here refresh his soul by coi with the mighty dead. 9. But " I have not the time for reading," is the reply of those who feel the truthfulness of this, and have sense enough to admit that the pursuit of knowledge is infinitely desirable to make men rich and wise and happy. " I have not time." Did you ever make a calculation to determine the quantity of knowledge you can compass in a given time. It is not impossible for the most active man in the city to give one hour, or even two, in each day, to the improvement of his immortal mind. He ought to do it, or cease to think himself a man. 10. Let him devote a part of this time, in the early morning, or at the close of the day ; but in this hour or two he may read fifty pages, and in the Gourse of a single year he will have perused COBB'S SPEAKER. 277 18,000 pages ! In five years, he has made himself the master of two hundred and fifty volumes of incalculable worth. Does it arrest the mind of any youth whom I address, that it would be a pleasant acquisition to have perused the standard English poets ? In one year, by reading two hours each day, he will have- become familiar with every poet from Chaucer to Wordsworth. 11. Would he read Fiction? In one year, he will have finished nearly every novel that was ever written, worth reading. History ? How soon, with industry and system, will the man of business make himself acquainted with the whole circle of history, ancient and modern ? What depths of philosophy will he explore ? What heights of learning will he mount ? This calculation any man may make for himself, and the truth of figures will convince the incred- ulous. 12. And did it never occur to you that the most eminent scholars have pursued their studies under difficulties immeasurably superior to those which beset your path ? Professor Heyne, of Gottingen, " one of the greatest classical scholars of his own or of any age," was born in the most abject poverty, the son of a poor weaver, and often saw his mother weeping and wringing her hands because she had not food for her children. He fought his way through the thickest difficulties, and became an ornament to his race. 13. Linnaeus, the celebrated botanist, was apprentice to a shoe- maker, and a scholar only upon charity. The world-famous Ben Jonson was a bricklayer; and, it was when speaking of him, that Fuller, in- his " English Worthies," says, " Let not them blush that have, but those that have not a lawful calling." These, and hundreds more, have battled with poverty and triumphed. In our country, the way to knowledge is so easy that poverty scarcely imposes a barrier. There are no toll-gates on the road. Free- schools are open to the young, and not a college in the land would shut its doors against a youth because he is poor. Two cents a week will give any boy, in the city of Newark, the range of this library with its thousands of volumes. Who can not be learned ? Who will not read and learn I 278 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON CI. MR. PRIME'S ADDRESS. CONCLUDED. 1. These examples might 1><' indefinitely extended. " The pursuit of knowledge under difficulties" is a subject full of inter- est, which might be profitably made the theme of an extended disquisition ; but, there are books devoted to the illustration, which you will readily find, that have furnished many of these in- cidents, and are full of others of similar pertinency and fo)< 2. Here you will resort to find those bright examples of dili- gence and success, that will rouse (be youthful mind to generous emulation of the great and good, that will point you to height! of knowledge and fields of enjoyment, which you may gain and call your own. Here you will find that even those men who have made the greatest improvements in the mechanic arts, and thus conferred perennial blessings upon their race, have not been the dull, plodding wielder of the hammer and turner of the wheel, but men who thought and studied while their hands were busy with the tools. Thus is it in every walk of life. Knowledge and virtue are the arms of individual, as well as national strength ; and, he who will, may wield them both and conquer. 3. Mr. President ; Those who have been familiar with the rise and progress of this Association, with the doubts and discourage- ments in which it was undertaken, the long and painful struggles of 'the infant enterprise, the immense and intense labor with which it was pushed on through the clouds with which its morning was obscured and its rising delayed, will appreciate the satisfaction with which I congratulate you and our associates, and the ladies and gentlemen, especially the youthful portion of this community, upon the grand result. 4. An edifice at once the ornament and defence of the city : an architectural ornament that has no rival among us, and a moral defence second only to the sacred temples which are dear to us as the ark of the covenant to ancient Israel ; such an edifice has been reared, not by the munificence of one or two men of wealth, not COBB'S SPEAKER. 279 by any profession, sect or party, but by the contributions of the friends of learning, who have cheerfully combined their means to build these walls and dedicate them to the diffusion of useful knowledge among men. 5. In this great work we have had the favoring Providence of the All-wise God ; and, we have never doubted that this house will advance his honor and secure his praise. To him we look for continued smiles. Never may these walls be vocal with a sound, never may these alcoves give shelter to a page, on which the face of Infinite purity and truth will frown ! 6. And now we enter upon their enjoyment. I wish that we had some adequate conception of what is before us, here and here- after. Sometimes I have thought it would be a mission worthy of the most exalted powers of argument and persuasion, not un- worthy an angel's gifts, to go into the market-places of this gen- eration, and challenge living men to think of what they are and where they are going ! 7. We are intellectual and immortal beings. Combine these attributes of our nature, and think of our duties and destinies. Pause in the race of life, and view the goal to which you are has- tening. Can you see it ? Take the strongest glass that human ingenuity has contrived to aid the eye, and with it pierce the future. Canst thou measure the capacity or duration of thy spirit ? Didst thou ever undertake to estimate the reach of infinite progression ? Concerning thyself with matter, the limit of thy power is soon ex- hausted. Pile up pebbles, and at last you can pile them no higher. 8. Art is long and strong, but time is longer and stronger ; and what man does is undone. There is an end to it. But didst thou ever, child of immortality, consider the power of an endless life ; that death is predicated only of the flesh, and that for nothing but to free thy spirit for the spirit-land, and to give it wider range in realms of knowledge where the ethereal essence dwells alone. 9. Life has its labors. I know them, and would not shun them. Day by day we must seek our daily bread. The world around us has a claim upon our heart and hand. We must work while we live. It is our lot, and it is right. 280 COBB'S SPEAKER. 10. Life has its pleasures. I love them, and rejoice in them. The domestic fire-side ; the social circle; the song of friendship; the voice of love : there is not a joy on earth 1 would not share with every son and daughter of the wide family of man. 11. But with the labors and the pleasures of the life that now is, 1 would never oease to feel; and, I would fasten the thought as with nails upon every youthful heart, that the purest and lofti- i'-i pleasure u in the prolonged and infinite expansion of the hu- man mind. From the depths <>f cur present ignorance, let a into the regions of fight and truth that arc above us. 12. The company of the good and great and wise invites us to the upward flight Let us know more, and the more w<- know, the more we shall long to know. Gravitation draws upward in the world of mind. < toward is the word : higher] See the proud eminence on which the Leader spirits of olden times arc resting now. They have not drawn the ladder after them. In the morn- ing "four career we may climb to their Bide; and, when do steps ascend to higher worlds, our spirits, loosed from flesh, shall stretch their way right onward and upward, till they fold their pini the foot of the eternal throne. LESSON OIL RURAL FUNERALS. IRVING. 1. The sorrow 7 for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. Every other wound we seek to heal, every other affliction to forget ; but this wound we consider it a duty to keep open ; this affliction we cherish and brood over in solitude. Where is the mother who would willingly forget the infant that perished like a blossom foom her arms, though every recollection is a pang ? Where is the child that would willingly forget the most tender of parents, though to remember be but to lament? 2. Who, even in the hour of agony, would forget the friend over COBB'S SPEAKEE. 281 whom he mourns ? Who, ^ven when the tomb is closing upon the remains of her he most loved ; when he feels his heart, as it were, crushed in the closing of its portals ; would accept of conso- lation that must be bought by forgetfulness ? ISTo, the love which survives the tomb is one of the noblest attributes of the soul. 3. If it has its woes, it has likewise its delights; and when the overwhelming burst of grief is calmed into the gentle tear of recol- lection, when the sudden anguish and the convulsive agony over the present ruins of all that we most loved, is softened away into pensive meditation on all that it was in the days of its loveliness, who would root out such a sorrow from the heart ? Though it may sometimes throw a passing cloud over the bright hour of gayety, or spread a deeper sadness over the hour of gloom, yet who would exchange it, even for the song of pleasure, or the burst of revelry ? 4. No, there is a voice from the tomb sweeter than song. There is a remembrance of the dead to which we turn even from the charms of the living. Oh ! the grave ! the grave ! It buries every error, covers every defect, extinguishes every resentment ! From its peace-' fill bosom spring none but fond regrets and tender recollections. Who can look down even upon the grave of an enemy, and not feel a compunctious throb, that he should ever have warred with the poor handful of earth, that lies mouldering before him ! 5. But the grave of those we loved, what a place for meditation ! There it is, that we call up in long review the whole history of virtue and gentleness, and the thousand endearments lavished upon us, almost unheeded in the daily intercourse of intimacy; there it is that . we dwell upon the tenderness, the solemn, awful tenderness of the parting scene. The bed of death, with all its stifled griefs, its noiseless attendance, its mute, watchful assiduities. 6. The last testimonies of expiring love ! the feeble, fluttering, thrilling, oh ! how thrilling ! pressure of the hand ! The faint, fal- tering accents, struggling in death to give one more assurance of affection ! The last fond look of the glazing eye, turning upon us even from the threshold of existence ! Ay, go to the grave of buried love, and meditate ! There settle the account with thy conscience for every past benefit unrequited, every past endear 282 COBB'S SPEAKER. merit unregarded, of that departed being, who can never, m -v«-v, never return to be soothed by thy contrition | 7. If thou art a child, and hart ever added a sorrow to tin: soul, or a furrow to the silvered brow of an affectionate parent, if thou art a husband, and bast ever eaneed the fond bosom that ventured its whole happiness in thy arms, to doubt one moment of thy kindness or thy truth; if thou art ;i friend, and nasi ever wronged, in thought, or word, or deed, the spirit that generously confided in thee; if thou art a lover, ami bast ever given cue unmerited pang to that true In-art which now lies cold and still beneath thy feet; then he sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word, every ungentle action, will come thronging back upon thy memory, and knock dolefully at thy BOttl ; then be BUT6 that thou wilt lie down sorrowing and repentant in the grave, and utter the unheard groan, and pour the unavailing tear, more dee],, more bitter, be- cause unheard and unavailing. 8. Then weave thy ohaplet of flowers, and Btrowthe beaut nature about the grave ; console thy broken -pint, if thou canst, with these tender, yet futile tributes of regret; but take warning by the bitterness of this thy contrite affliction over the dead, and henceforth be more faithful and affectionate in the discharge of thy duties to the living. LESSON CIIL sympathy. — wright's casket. 1. Speak to that erring, fallen brother. Speak in words of kindness and sympathy. Let him know that in his self-inflicted degradation, low as he may have fallen, deeply as he may have erred, there are those that care for his welfare. He knows that you are a good Washingtonian, and can but look with abhorrence upon his intemperance. He knows, perhaps, that you are a Christian, a follower of Him who " went about doing good." COBB'S SPEAKER. 283 2. But no matter. Your words will fall like melody upon his sad heart, if given in kindness and love ; and, the circumstances of your different positions in society will give additional force and in- fluence to your action. He needs your sympathy and kindness. The moral powers of his spirit have been broken by frequent observations and errors. His heart has become callous by fre- quent mingling in immoral associations and contact with vice, and his whole moral man lies in ruins. Chide him not. 3. Your silence is the strongest reproof. He feels it more keenly than the harshest words, and let your silent kindness stand in strong contrast with the execrations of those who have caused his ruin. Believe not that he is unmindful of his fall and degradation. His mind, rushing through the vista of the past, rests mournfully upon a thousand infirmities, indiscretions, and follies, and there is the gathering up of that mighty resolution to break the snare of the destroyer and be free. 4. Strengthen it by your kindness, and by giving him your confidence. Let him feel that you believe him capable of refor- mation, of coming up to assert the high prerogatives of humanity, and of regaining his lost standing and happiness. Breathe not a thought of his relapse, but bid him onward and upward in the stern march of life. Your kindness will find way to his frozen heart, unlock the warm sympathies of his soul ; and, while he gathers up the scattered energies of nature for triumphant battle with the tempter, the " blessing of Him that was ready to perish shall come down upon you." LESSON CIV. IMMORALITY OF LARGE CITIES. REV. ORVILLE DEWEY. 1. A man comes from a distant part of the country, a trader perhaps, to your city. It is impossible that he should not be much impressed with what he sees around him, business, life, 284 COBB'S SPEAKER. fashion, equipage, all upon a scale so much more splendid and luxurious than that to which he has been accustomad. 11*: is obviously placed in a state to be Strongly influenced; a situation more favorable to that end is scarcely conceivable : and influ- enced too, not by a mere outward spectacle. 2. It is not the brick and mortar, the splendid mansion «»r entertainment, the sen ice of plate <»r the rich costume ; but it i- the spirit of society living and breathing through these forms, that steals with a subtler influence into his mind. The public opinion, and 1 Bay it with emphasis, the public opinion that prevails in cities is, from their position, more pervading and powerful than any other public Opinion in the world. 3. If our visiter to the city finds those who live in the splendid mansions around him, living simply, temperately, virtuously; interested in the best welfare of BOciety, it> education, morality, and religion, he is breathing an atmosphere, most healthful and happy for him; and he will carryback a report to his country home, full of encouragement to all good men there, and of rebuke to all bad men. Oh I what messages are these, to go from among the whole wide land ! May they be multiplied ! 4. 1 thank God that there arc such messages. But suppose that the visiter to our city finds much here, that is widely and unhappily different from that representation. Suppose that he is impressed with the covetousness, extravagance, and immorality of the people, rather than with the opposite qualities. 5. Suppose that he finds here, not only thousands of houses of evil allurement, I speak not in random terms ; three thousand drinking houses are but one item in the account; that he finds, I say, not only some thousands of houses of evil allurement, but that he falls in with some of those currents of evil conversation and practice which are ever flowing towards those reservoirs of iniquity. 6. He is introduced, you perceive, both by the spectacle and the spirit of things around him, to new modes and new ideas of life. Instead of that regular and reasonable application to busi- ness, and that quiet, domestic fidelity and enjoyment, which mark out, as he had before thought, the only lawful plan in life, he finds I COBB'S SPEAKER. 285 those in the city throng, made up as it is of many moral classes, he finds those, and not a few, perhaps, who are pushing business to unscrupulous excess one part of the day, that they may urge pleasure to criminal excess another. 7. He hears it insinuated too, on a basis indeed of truth, but with a large superstructure of exaggeration, that many around him, holding a respectable rank in society, are accustomed to resort to houses of midnight dissoluteness, gambling, and intemperance ! He is shocked, he is almost shaken, perhaps, in some of his moral judgments. He departs from the scene, wondering but not cor- rupted. He carries his wonder with him to his country retire- ment, and naturally gives it utterance. 8. Many reports of this kind, carried by individuals, sanctioned by newspapers, and confirmed by the testimonies given in our courts of justice, spread at length an impression through the country, that the city is almost wholly given up to the idolatry of sense ; and this impression powerfully tends to sap the very foundations of public morality. Bad and dissolute men are encouraged by it. They say to the advocates of strict virtue, " You see that we are not alone ! These notions," say they, " of strictness and self-re- straint are all the fruit of country simplicity and ignorance." But great as the injury is in this view, it is not as great as the injury to and through the individual whose case I am considering. 9. He comes again to the great city-mart ; he falls again into society like that which he had seen before ; he hears again that loose and reckless conversation, whose breath, more fatally than any other influence, dissolves the bands of virtue ; he hears, and the more he hears, the less he is shocked ; use breeds familiarity ; familiarity, indifference ; indifference leaves the soul unguarded ; leaves it to be carried away by any casual whim, temporary ex- citement, or deep-seated passion, yes, carried away to the dens of evil indulgence : and now it may be, that he who, five years ago, came to the city with none but honest intents, and looked upon many things around him with no feelings but of surprise and dis- pleasure, now, I say, he comes, perhaps, full as much for unlawful pleasure as for lawful business : yes, he has fallen into those very 286 COBB'S SPEAKER. habits which, five years ago, filled him with amazement tad horror. 10. Nor is this all; nor even the worst. He carries the infec- tion of example with him. Corrupted in the city, he become ■ centre and source of corruption in the country, lie opens a foun- tain in the midst of some pure community, whose poisonou waters flow, underground, through many a hidden channel; yet not so deep, but that they pollute the very soil of society where lie liv«-s, blasting many a verdant >\»>\, ami fair flower, and shapelv young tree, that shall spring up there for a century to come. LESSON CV. CURIOUS SOCIAL HABITS OF THE OSAGES. CHEROKEE ADVOCATE. 1. Among the Osage Indians a young man of eighteen will sometimes say to a widow twice his age, perhaps, Come, take a hunt with me. The widow answers, hoa, (yes.) This mean- these two will hunt together like man and wife ; both parties putting together their horses, camp kettles, and equipage. 2. On the hunt, the man hunts ; the woman saddles and un- saddles his horse, unpacks his meat, builds his lodge, collects his wood, cooks his food, and makes his moccasins ; and, in every respect, takes the place and post of a dutiful and helping wife, vet they are not married. Sometimes they repeat several hunts, and even live years together, and the woman bears children ; but this is not marriage. 3. However well this young man may be suited with his hunt- ing companion, should he be so fortunate as to rise to the rank of a brave or warrior, he casts her off without ceremony, and marries, that is, buys a wife after the custom of his nation, and is praised for so doing ; for, his previous union is not considered honorable for a brave or warrior. 4. No man can marry a warrior's daughter that is not a warrior COBB'S SPEAKEE. 287 himself. Consequently, mothers often cry and pray, and before their sons, that they may be men enough to go to war, and kill and scalp the Pawnees, and be successful in stealing horses, that they may rise to the grade of warriors, and get honorably married. 5. No Osage feels honorable, or is considered honorable, or treated honorably, until he distinguishes himself and is called a brave or a warrior. This he may do in one of the five following ways ; shoot down his enemy ; knock him on the head after another has shot him down ; scalp him after he has been shot down and knocked on the head ; shoot through two buffaloes with an arrow at one shot ; or, steal ten horses. 6. To do any one of the above acts entitles him to the name of a brave, and to the privilege of carrying a tomahawk. All others are waiters or kettle tenders. A brave or warrior may strike a kettle tender and he can not resent it, or return the blow, until he rises to the same grade ; then he may do it if it should be twenty years afterward. 7. All girls among the Osages are sold in marriage. I have never known an Osage girl to take up with a man, as the term is used among some other nations. However poor the mother, aunt, or guardian is, she will demand something for her daughter or ward in marriage. 8. The girls being in demand, and the mothers giving them up only for value received, lead the mothers to watch the girls in the strictest manner. Widows of every grade and age make their own marriage contracts, and in the loosest possible manner. But the girls are as chaste as those of any nation. I have never known a runaway match among them. LESSON CVT. INTEMPERANCE. REV. DR. LYMAN BEECHER. 1. Could I call around me, in one vast assembly, the temperate young men of our land, I would say, Hopes of the nation, blessed 288 COBB 9 BFEA K E ft. of th.- Lord now in the dew of your youth. Bat l<»<>k well to your footsteps : for ripen, and scorpions, and adders, surroand your way. Look at the generation who have just preceded you: tli" morning of their life was cloudless, and it dawned at brightly as v«»ur own; but, behold them bitten, swollen, enfeebled, mil debauched, idle, ] r, irreligious, and \i<-iou»; with baiting dragging onward to meet an early ^vam- ! 2, Their bright prospects are clouded, and their ^m i> set never to ii->'! No house of their own receives them, while from p -.-r to poorer tenements they descend, and to harder ami header fine, as improvidence dries np their resources. And now, who ereviose that wait on their footsteps u ith muffled bees and sable garments 1 That i> a father, and that i- a mother, whose gray hairs are coming with sorrow to the grave. That i- a Bister, wet t evils which she can not arres< ; ami there i> th.- broken-hearted will-; ami there are th.- children; hapless innocents; for whom their lather has provided th.' inheritance only of dishonor, ami naked- ness, and \ml i> tlii-, beloved young men, the history of your course! In this senr of desolation, do you behold th.- image of your future selves I fa this the poverty and disease, which, as an armed man, shall take bold on yon I And are your fathers, and mothers, and . and wives, and children, to Bucceed to those who now move on in this mournful procession, weeping a- they bright as your morning now opens, and high as your hopes beat, this is your noon, and your night, unless you shun those habits of intemperance which have thus early made theirs a day of clouds and thick darkness. If you frequent places of evening resort for social drinking ; if you set out with drinking daily a little, tem- perately, prudently ; it is yourselves which, as in a glass, you be- hold. 4. Might I select specific objects of address ; to the young hus- bandman or mechanic, I would say, Happy man ! your employ- ment is useful and honorable, and with temperance and industry you rise to competence, and rear up around you a happy family, and transmit to them, as a precious legacy, your own fair fame. COBB'S SPEAKER. 289 But look around you ; are there none who were once in your con- dition, whose health, and reputation, and substance, are gone ? What would tempt you to exchange conditions ? 5. And yet, sure as seed-time and harvest, if you drink daily, at stated times, and visit from evening to evening, the resorts of social drinking, or stop to take refreshment as you enter or retire from the city, town, or village, yours will become the condition of those ruined farmers and artisans around you. 6. To another, I would say, You are a man of wealth, and may drink to the extinction of life without the risk of empoverishment ; but, look at you neighbor, his bloated face, and inflamed eye, and blistered lip, and trembling hand : he too is a man of wealth, and may die of intemperance without the fear of poverty. 7. Do you demand, " What have I to do with such examples ?" Nothing ; if you take warning by them. But if you too should cleave to the morning bitter, and the noon-tide dram, and the evening beverage, you have in these signals of ruin the memorials of your own miserable end ; for, the same causes, in the same cir- cumstances, will produce the same effects. 8. To the affectionate husband I would say, Behold the wife of thy bosom, young and beautiful as the morning ; and yet her day may be overcast with clouds, and all thy early hopes be blasted. Upon her the fell destroyer may lay his hand, and plant in that healthful frame the seeds of disease, and transmit to successive generations the inheritance of crime and wo. Will you not watch over her with ever-wakeful affection, and keep far from your abode the occasions of temptation and ruin % 9. Call around you the circle of your healthful and beautiful children. Will you bring contagion into such a circle as this? Shall those sparkling eyes become imflamed, those rosy cheeks purpled and bloated, that sweet breath be tainted, those ruby lips blistered, and that vital tone of unceasing cheerfulness be turned into tremor and melancholy ? Shall those joints, so compact, be unstrung, that dawning intellect be clouded, those affectionate sensibilities benumbed, and those capacities for holiness and heaven be filled with sin, and " fitted for destruction V 13 290 OOBB'S SFE1 K BR, 10. thou father ! was it for this that the Son of God ihed his blood for thy precious offspring ; that, abandoned and even tempt- ed by thee, they Bhould destroy themselves, and pierce thy heart with many Borrows! Wouldst thou lei the wolf into thy sheep- fold among the tender lambs 1 Wouldst thou Bend thy flock to graze about a den of lions? Close, then, thy doors against a ferocious destroyer, and withhold tin- footsteps of thy immortal progeny from places of resort more dangerous than the lion's den! 11. Should a Berpent of vast dimensions surprise, in the field, one of vour little group, and wreath about his body his oold, elastic folds, tightening with every yielding breath his deadly gripe; how would oil cries pierce your bouI, and his strained eye- balls, and convulsive agonies, and imploring hands, add wrings to your feet, and supernatural strength to your arms? But in this case you could approach with hope to bis rescue. 12. The keen edge of Bteel might sunder the elastic fold, and rescue the victim, who, the moment he is released, breathes freely, and is well again. But the serpent Intemperance twines about the body of your child a deadlier gripe, and extorts a keener cry of distress, and mocks your effort to relieve him by a fibre which no steel can sunder. Like LaocoOn, you can only look on while bone after bone of your child is crushed, till his agonies are over, and his cries are hushed in death. LESSON CVII. THE RAIL-WAY. DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE. 1. The silent glen, the sunless stream, To wandering boyhood dear, And treasured still in many a dream, They are no longer here ; COBB'S SPEAKER. 291 A huge red mound of earth is thrown Across the glen so wild and lone, The stream so cold and clear ; And lightning speed, and thundering sound, Pass hourly o'er the unsightly mound. 2. Nor this alone ; for many a mile Along that iron way, No verdant banks or hedge-rows smile In summer's glory gay ; Thro' chasms that yawn as though the earth Were rent in some strange mountain-birth, Whose depth excludes the day, We're borne away at headlong pace, To win from time the wearying race ! 3. The wayside inn, with homelike air, No longer tempts a guest To taste its unpretending fare, Or seek its welcome rest. The prancing team, the merry horn, The cool fresh road at early morn, The coachman's ready jest ; All, all to distant dream-land gone, While shrieking trains are hurrying on. 4. Yet greet we them with thankful hearts, And eyes that own no tear, 'Tis nothing now, the space which parts The distant from the dear ; The wing that to her cherished nest Bears home the bird's exulting breast, Has found its rival here. With speed like hers we too can haste, The bliss of meeting hearts to taste. 292 CO 15 B B 9 PEA I KB. 5. For me, I gaze along the line To watch the approaching train, And deem it still, 'twixl me and mine, A rude, but welcome chain To bind Qfl in a world, whose Each passing hour to Beyer tries, J hit here may try in rain ; To bring as Dear home many an art, Stern fate employs to keep apart LESSON CVIIL THE DESERTED CHILDREN. CINCIN N A I I PAPER, 1. In tlic autumn of 1828, a man was descending the Ohio river, with three -mail children, in a canoe. lie had lost his wife, and, in the emigrating spirit of our people, was transporting his all, to a new country, where ho might again begin th«- world. Arriving towards evening at a small island, he landed there, with the inten- tion of encamping for the night After remaining a short time, he determined t«» \isit the opposite Bhore, for the purpose, probably, of purchasing provisions ; and telling his children that he would soon return to them, he paddled off, leaving them alone on the island. 2. Unfortunately, he met on the shore with some loose company, who had invited him to drink. He became intoxicated, and. in attempting to return to the island in the night, was drowned ! The canoe floated away, and no one knew of the catastrophe until the following day. The poor, deserted children, in the mean wdiile, wandered about the uninhabited island, straining their little eyes to catch a glimpse of their father. 3. Night came, and they had no fire, nor food ; no bed to rest upon, and no parent to watch over them. The weather was ex- COBB'S SPEAKER. 293 tremely cold, and the eldest child, though but eight years of age, remembered to have heard that persons who slept in the cold, were sometimes chilled to death. She continued, therefore, to wander about ; and when the younger children, worn out with fatigue and drowsiness, were ready to drop into slumber, she kept them awake with amusing or alarming stories. 4. At. last, nature could hold out no longer, and the little ones, chilled and aching with cold, threw themselves on the ground. Then their sister sat down, and spreading out her garments as wide as possible, drew them on her lap, and endeavored to impart the warmth of her own bosom, as they slept sweetly on her arms. Morning came, and the desolate children sat on the shore, weeping bitterly. At length, they were filled with joy, by the sight of a canoe approaching the island. But they soon discovered that it was filled with Indians ; their delight was changed into terror, and they fled into the woods. 5. Believing that the savages had murdered their father, and were now come to seek for them, they crouched under the bushes, hiding in breathless fear, like a brood of young partridges. The Indians, having kindled a fire, sat down around it, and began to cook their morning-meal ; and the eldest child, as she peeped out from her hiding-place, began to think that they had not killed her father. 6. She reflected, too, that they must inevitably starve, if left on this lone island, while, on the other hand, there was a possibility of being kindly treated by the Indians. The cries, too, of her brother and sister, who had been begging piteously for food, had pierced her heart, and awakened all her energy. She told the little ones, over whose feeble minds her fine spirit had acquired an absolute sway, to get up and go with her ; then taking a hand of each, she fearlessly led them to the Indian camp-fire. Fortunately, the savages understood our language ; and, when the little girl had explained to them what had occurred, they received the deserted children kindly, and conducted them to New Madrid, where they were kept by some benevolent people, until their own relatives claimed them. 294 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON CIX. OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. REV. DR. GARDINER SPRING. 1. The Sabbatli lies at the foundation of all true morality. Molality flows from principle. Let the principles of moral obliga- tion become relaxed, and the practice of morality will not long survive the overthrow. No man can preserve his own morals; no parent can preserve the morals of his children, without the im- pressions of religious obligation. 2. If you can induce a community to doubt the gonuii and authenticity of the Scriptures; to question the reality, and obligations of religion ; to hesitate, undeciding, whether tli« any such thing as virtue or vice; whether there be an eternal state of retribution beyond the grave ; or whether there exists any such being as God, you have broken down the barriers of moral virtue, and hoisted the flood-gates of immorality and crime. 3. I need not say, that when a people have once done this, they can no longer exist as a tranquil and happy people. Every bond that holds society together would be ruptured; fraud and treachery would take the place of confidence between man and man ; the tribunals of justice would be scenes of bribery and in- justice; avarice, perjury, ambition, and revenge would walk through the land, and render it more like the dwelling of savage beasts, than the tranquil abode of civilized and christianized men. 4. If there is an institution which opposes itself to this progress of human degeneracy, and throws a shield before the interests of moral virtue in our thoughtless and wayward world, it is the Sab- bath. In the fearful struggle between virtue and vice, not with- OS / standing the powerful auxiliaries which wickedness finds in the bosom of men, and in the seductions and influence of popular ex- ample, wherever the Sabbath has been suffered to live, the trembling interests of moral virtue have always been revered and sustained. 5. One of the principal occupations of this day, is to illustrate and enforce the great principles of sound morality. Where this sacred trust is preserved inviolate, you behold a nation convened COBB'S SPEAKER. 295 one day in seven, for the purpose of acquainting themselves with the best moral principles and precepts. And it can not be other- wise, than that the authority of moral virtue, under such auspices, should be acknowledged and felt. 6. We may not, at once, perceive the effects which this weekly observance produces. Like most moral causes, it operates slowly ; but it operates surely, and gradually weakens the power, and breaks the yoke of profligacy and sin. - No villain regards the Sabbath. No vicious family regards the Sabbath. No immoral community regards the Sabbath. The holy rest of this ever-mem- orable day, is a barrier which is always broken down, before men become giants in sin. V. Blackstone, in his Commentaries on the Laws of England, remarks, that " a corruption of morals usually follows a profana- tion of the Sabbath." It is an observation of Lord Chief Justice Hale, that " of all the persons who were convicted of capital crimes, while he was upon the bench, he found a few, only, who would not confess that they began their career of wickedness by a neglect of the duties of the Sabbath, and vicious conduct on that day." 8. The prisons in our own land could probably tell us, that they have scarcely a solitary tenant, who had not broken over the restraints of the Sabbath, before he was abandoned to crime. You may enact laws for the suppression of immorality ; but the secret and silent power of the Sabbath constitutes a stronger shield to the vital interest of the community, than any code of penal statutes that ever was enacted. The Sabbath is the key-stone of the arch which sustains the temple of virtue, which, however defaced, will survive many a rude shock, so long as the foundation remains firm. 9. The observance of the Sabbath is, also, most influential in securing national prosperity. The God of Heaven has said, " Them that honor me, will I honor." You will not often find a notorious Sabbath-breaker a permanently prosperous man ; and a Sabbath-breaking community is never a happy or prosperous com- munity. There are a multitude of unobserved influences, which the Sabbath exerts upon the temporal welfare of men. 10. It promotes the spirit of good order and harmony; it ele- 296 COBB'S SPKAKEK. rates the poor from want; it transforms squalid frretebedn imparts self-respect and elevation of character; it prom md civility of manners; it brings together 1 1 * « - rich and the poor, upon one common level, in the house of prayer ; ttpurifi itrengthens 1 sffections, and makes the family circle the centre of allurement, and the source of instruction, comfort, and happiness. Lik<- its own divine religion, it "has the promt the life thai now is, and that which is to come," for men can not put themselves beyond the reach of 1 1 • » j »• - and heaven, as k they treasure nj> thai one command, " Remember the Sabbath- day, to keep it holy." LESSON OX. EXTRACT FROM A DISCO IVI.KKD BY REV. DB, If] PIBK, 'in- LKOISLATUBI OT VERMONT, i>» 'im: DAT OV GENERAL BLECTIOE, \T MOBTPELIER, OCT. 1-', 1 1. ThERI is a spirit, an active. ;t-jdriN'_f principle in man, which cannot be broken down by oppression, or satisfied by indulg " He has a soul of vast desires, It burns within with restless fires." Desires, which no earthly good can satisfy ; fires, which no waters of affliction or discouragement can quench. And it is from this his nature, that society derives all it- interests, and her* lies all its danger. This spirit is at once the terror of tyrants, and the destroyer of republics. 2. To form some idea of its strength, let us look at it in its differ- ent conditions, both when it is depressed, and when it is exalted. See when it is bent down for a time, by the iron grasp and leaden sceptre of tyranny, cramping, and curtailing, and hedging in the soul, and foiling it in all its attempts to break from its bonds and COBB'S SPEAKEE. 297 assert its native independence. In these cases, the noble spirit, like a wild beast in the toils, sinks down at times, into sullen inactivity, only that it may rise again, when exhausted nature is a little restored, to rush, as hope excites or madness impels, in stronger paroxysms against the cords which bind it down. 3. This is seen in the mobs and rebellions of the most besotted and enslaved nations. Witness the repeated convulsions in Ireland, that degraded and oppressed country. Neither desolating armies, nor numerous garrisons, nor the most rigorous administration, en- forced by thousands of public executions, can break the spirit of that restless people. 4. Witness Greece; generations have passed away since the warriors of Greece have had their feet put in fetters, and the race of heroes had apparently become extinct ; and the Grecian lyre had long been unstrung, and her lights put out. Her haughty masters thought her spirit was dead ; but it was not dead, it only slept. In a moment, as it were, we saw all Greece in arms ; she shook off her slumbers, and rushed with phrensy and hope, upon seeming impossibilities, to conquer or to die. 5. And though the mother and the daughter, as well as the father and son, have fought and fallen in the common cause, until her population grows thin ; though Missolonghi and many other strongholds are fallen, until her fortifications are few and feeble ; though Christian nations have looked on with a cruel inactivity, without lending their needed aid ; yet the spirit of Greece is no more subdued than at the commencement of the contest. It can not be subdued. 6. W T e see then that man has a spirit, which is not easily broken down by oppression. Let us inquire, whether it can be more easily satisfied by indulgence. And in every step of this inquiry, we shall find that no miser ever had gold enough ; no office-seeker ever yet had honor enough ; no conqueror ever yet subdued king- doms enough. When the rich man had filled his store-houses, he must pull down and build larger. When Cesar had conquered all his enemies, he must enslave his friends. 7. When Bonaparte had become the Emperor of France, he 13* 298 COBB'S SI'EAKEK. aspired to the throne of all Europe. Pacta, i thousand hn every age and among all classes, prove, that such is tin- ambitious nature of the soul, such tin- increasing compass of its vast d that the material universe, with all its rastness, richness, and variety, ran not satisfy it. N'T is ji iii the power of the govern- ments of this world, in their most perfect forms, so to interest tin: feelings, so to regulate the desires, so to restrain the passions, or so to divert, or charm, or chain tin- souls of a whole community, Lut that these latent and ungovernable fires will sooner or later burst -ait and endanger the whole bodj politic 8. I know it ha- been supposed, by the politicians, that in an intelligent and well-educated community, ;i government might be go constituted by a proper balance of power, by equal ropresenta tion, and by leaving open the avenues to office and wealth, for a fair and honorable competition among all clai — , a- to perpetuate the system to the latest posterity. Such a system nment, it is acknowledged, i- the most likely to continue; but, all these political and literary helps, unaided by the kingdom of Christ, will not secure any community from revolution and ruin. 9. And he knows but little of the nature of man who judges otherwise. What ha- been the fate of the ancient republics? They have been dissolved by this same restless and disorganizing spirit, of which we have been speaking. And do we not see the same dangerous spirit, in our own comparatively happy and strongly constituted republic ? 10. The wise framers of our excellent political institutions, like the eclectic philosophers, have selected the best parts out of all the systems which preceded them ; and to these have added others, according to the suggestions of their own wisdom, or the leadings of Providence, and have formed the whole into a constitution, the most perfect the world has ever witnessed. Here every thing that is rational in political liberty, is enjoyed; here the most salutary checks and restraints, that have yet been discovered, are laid upon men in office. 11. Here the road to honor and wealth is open to all ; and here is general intelligence. But here man is found to possess the COBB'S SPEAKEK. 299 same nature as elsewhere. And the stirrings of his restless spirit have already disturbed the peace of society, and portend future convulsions. Party spirit is begotten ; ambitious views are en- gendered, and fed, and inflamed ; many are running the race for office ; rivals are envied ; characters are aspersed ; animosities are enkindled ; and the whole community are disturbed by the elec- tioneering contest. 12. No meanness is foregone, no calumny is too glaring, no venality is too base, when the mind is inflamed with strong desire, and elated with the hope of success, in the pursuit of some favorite object. And when the doubtful question is decided, it avails nothing. Disappointment sours the mind, and often produces the most bitter enmity and the most settled and systematic opposition, in the unsuccessful party ; while success but imperfectly satisfies the mind of the more fortunate. 13. And if no other influence come in, to curb the turbulent spirits of men, besides that which is found in our general intelli- gence, and constitutional checks, probably, at no great distance of time, such convulsions may be witnessed in our now happy coun- try, as shall make the ears of him that heareth it tingle, and the eyes of him that seeth it weep blood. State may be arrayed against state, section against section, and party against party, till all the horrors of civil war may desolate our land. Are there no grounds for such fears ? LESSON CXI. FATHER MATHEW, GIVING THE TEMPERANCE PLEDGE AT THE TOMBS IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK. MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY. 1. It was a place of gloom, and Justice turned Her massy key between it and the w T orld Of busy men, and the rejoicing sun. 300 COBB'S BP BAKER. Suffering was there, and Crime, and dark Remoi And the Beared Conscience, direr doom than iliey. Who entereth, with Buch kindness on his brow And pitying tone ? 2. He eometh not to daunt The Bpirita in prison. He upbraideth not. He wringeth ool into the cup of shame The bitter gall-drop of self-righteous scorn, But with thai M ister's gentleness, who Bought And saved the lost; uplifts and Btira the fallen To strong resolve. ( Per the dead heart be breatl A living hope. 3. Quick impulse moves the throng, As when a tree before the viewless winds Is rent and shaken. Here and there they bow, Humbled before him. Ji<', who fiercely Bel His tac«- like flint, 'gainst blame or punishment, And she, whose bold and bronzed cheek hath lost All teint of pure and tremulous womanhood, Feels that strange guest, a tear. Kneeling, they take The proffered vow, made firm by holy prayer, As from parental lips. 4. Ah, good old man ! Such scenes as these, that give the angels joy, Have marked thy blessed course o'er many lands. Farewell ! We give thee thanks. God speed thy way, In safety o'er the main. 5. Amid our clime, The zeal of thine apostleship remains, And deep thine image is enshrined in homes To which too long the husband and the sire Came as a fiend to desolate or slay ; COBB'S SPEAKEB. 301 But now the infant climbeth to his knee, Fearless and fond ; the wintry hearth is bright, And by his side the trustful matron sits, A song of praise within her secret soul. 6. These are thy trophies, with the web of life Meekly inwoven. And the laurel crown Of the blood-shedder, and the clarion blast Of loudest fame, were well exchanged for these When the strong angel with his trumpet sound Warns to the judgment. Hartford, Oct. 20, 1851. LESSON CXII. INSTABILITY OF LIFE. JOB. 1. 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 also as a shadow and continueth not. And dost thou open thine eyes upon such a one, and bringest me into judgment with thee ? WTio can bring a clean thing out of an unclean ? not one. 2. Seeing his days are determined, the number of his months are with thee, thou hast appointed his bounds that he can not pass ; Turn from him, that he may rest, till he shall accomplish, as a hireling, his day. 3. For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof die in the ground ; Yet through the scent of water it will bud, and bring forth boughs like a plant. « 302 COBB"S SPEAK BS. 4. But man dieth, and wasteth away ; yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he ? As the waters fail from the sea, and the flood decayeth and drieth up : So man lieth down, and riseth not : till the heavens be no more, they shall not awake, nor be raved out of their il 5. O that thou would, si hide me in the grave, that thou wovldeatkeen meaee ro t, until thy wrath be past, that thou wovldeat appoint ma a aal tame, and remember mel If a man die, shall he live again I all the days of my appoints! time will I wait, till my change eome. G. Thou ahalt call, and I will answer thee : thou wilt have a desire to the work of thine hand-. For now thou numberest my steps : dost thou not watch over my sin? 7. Mv transgression is sealed up in a bag, and thou sewest up mine iniquity. And surely the mountain falling cometh to naught, and the rock is removed out of his place. 8. The waters wear the atones: thou washttt away the things which grow out of the dust of the earth, and thou destroyest the hope of man. Thou prevailest for ever against him, and he passeth : thou changest his countenance, and Beadeat him away. 9. His sons come to honor, and he knoweth it not ; and they are brought low, but he perceiveth it not of them. But his flesh upon him shall have pain, and his soul within him shall mourn. LESSON CXIII. COMETS. INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE. 1. Comets are light, vapory bodies, which move around the sun in orbits much less circular than those of the planets. Their orbits, in other words, are very long ellipses or ovals, having the COBB'S SPEAKER. 303 sun near one of the ends. Comets usually have two parts, a body or nucleus, and a tail ; but some have a body only. 2. The body appears as a thin, vapory, luminous mass, of glob- ular form ; it is so thin that, in some cases, the stars have been seen through it. The tail is a lighter or thinner luminous vapor, surrounding the body, and streaming out from it, in one direction. 3. In ignorant ages, the sudden appearance of a comet in the sky never failed to occasion great alarm, both on account of its threatening appearance, and because it was considered as a sign that war, pestilence, or famine, was about to afflict mankind. Knowledge has dispelled all such fancies ; but yet we are not well acquainted with the nature of comets. 4. Out of the great multitude, certainly not less than one thou- sand, which are supposed to exist, about one hundred and fifty have been made the subject of scientific observation. Instead of revolving, like the planets, nearly on the plane of the sun's equa- tor, it is found that they approach his body from all parts of sur- rounding space. At first they are seen slowly advancing, with a comparatively faint appearance. 5. As they approach the sun, the motion becomes quicker, and at length they pass around him with very great rapidity, and at a comparatively small distance from his body. The comet of 1680 approached within one sixth of his diameter. After passing, they are seen to emerge from his rays, with an immense increase to their former brilliancy and to the length of their tails. Their motion then becomes gradually slower, their brilliancy diminishes, and at length they are lost in distance. 6. It has been ascertained that their movement around the sun is in accordance with the same law that regulates the planetary movements, being always the quicker the nearer to his body, and the slower the more distant. In the remote parts of space their motions must be extremely slow. 1. Three comets have been observed to return, and their periods of revolution have been calculated. The most remarkable of these is one usually denominated Halley's comet, from the astronomer who first calculated its period. It revolves about the sun in 304 COBB'S SPEAKER. about seventy-five yean, its last appearance being at the close of 1835. 8. Another, called Enke's comet, from Professor Enke, of Ber- lin, lias been found to revolve once in one thousand two hundred and seven days, or three and one third years; but in this case the revolving body is found, at each successive approach to the ran, to be a lin!.; earlier than on tin- previous occasion, showing thai its orbit is graduallj lessening, so that it may be expected ultimately to fall into the sun. '.». The third, Darned Bella's comet, from Mr. Belia, of Joseph- stadt, revolves around the sua in Bix and three quarter years. It ia mall, and baa no tail [n L832 this cornel passed thi the earth's path about a month before the arrival of our planet at the same point If the earth had been a month earlier a* that point, or the comet a month later in crossing it. tin- two bodies would have been brought together, 10. Comets are often affected in their motions by the attraction of the planets. Jupiter, in particular, has been described by aa astronomer aa a perpetual stumbling-block in their way* In 1770, a cornel got entangled amidat the satellites of that planet, and was thereby thrown out of its usual course, while the motions wen not in the least affected. 11. Comets often pass unobserved, in consequence *A the parts of the heavens in which they move being then under daylight During a total eclipse of the sun, which happened sixty yean be- fore Christ, a large comet not formerly .seen, became visible near the body of the obscured luminary. On many occasions their smallness and distance render them visible only by the aid of the telescope. On other occasions, they appear of vast size. 12. The comet now called Halley's, at its appearance in 145G, covered a sixth part of the visible extent of the heavens, and was likened to a Turkish cimeter. That of 1680, which was observed by Sir Isaac Newton, had a tail calculated to be one hundred and twenty-three millions of miles in length ; a space greater than the distance of the earth from the sun. There was a comet in 1 74 4 which bad six tails, spread out like a fan across a large space in the heavens. COBB'S SPEAKER. 305 LESSON CXIV. MAGAZINE. 1. This country is, in some respects, not so much one nation, as a union of many nations. So it has been from the beginning. Our history is not one. We do not look back to one nation as the land of our forefathers, but to many : to Sweden, to Denmark, to Holland, to France, to Scotland, to Ireland, to England. 2. So it is now, at this present day, which is the very era of emigration to this country of emigrants. "We number our German citizens by millions, our Irish citizens by millions, and we have thousands of English, Scotch, and French birth. It is so with our pursuits in life, which are not one, nor are our interests, therefore, one. 3. The sun, which, at its rising, glitters upon the fleets of com- merce and the rich marts of trade, climbing the Alleghanies, lights up the broad, green valley of the Mississippi, the bosom of the nation, teeming with future wealth and might, and fructifies the wheat-fields and corn-fields of the North, the tobacco-fields of Kentucky, the cotton, the rice, and sugar plantations of the South ; again, ascending a loftier mountain range than the Alleghanies, it brightens the dark forests of Oregon, and, cheering the log hut of the emigrant with the light which, in the morning, fell on the homesteads of New England, it sinks at last into the Pacific. 4. Almost every climate and soil is within our borders. All Europe is our kindred. The great heart of America beats with a pulsation from the blood of almost every nation of Western Europe. A political microcosm in itself, the United States are well able, and are bound to feel a fraternal sympathy with all the world, and to proclaim and act upon the principle of the Brother- hood of Nations. 306 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON CXV. BATTLE OF IIOIIENLINDEN. CAMPBELL. 1. On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay th' untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Lser, rolling rapidly. 2. But linden saw another sight, When the drum beat, at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of ber acenery. 3. "By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Each horseman drew his battle blade, And furious every charger neighed, To join tin.' dreadful revelry. 4. Then shook the hills with thunder riv'n, Then rushed the steed to battle driv'ii, And louder than the bolts of Heaven, Far flashed the red artillery. 5. And redder yet those fires shall glow, On Linden's hills of blood-stained snow, And darker yet shall be the flow Of lser, rolling rapidly. 6. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon lurid sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank, and fiery Hun, Shout midst their sulph'rous canopy. 7. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave ! Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave ! And charge with all thy chivalry ! COBB'S SPEAKEK. 307 Ah ! few shall part where many meet ! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath their feet, Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. LESSON CXVI. OLD WYOMING. TALES OF THE REVOLUTION. 1. The valley of the Susquehanna, at that point on which stands the town of Wilkesbarre, unites, with salubrity of atmo- sphere, an assemblage of beauties, rural and picturesque, seldom found within a compass so confined. A strip of fertile land on either side of the river, is terminated by a range of lofty moun- tains, whose blue tops, rising one above another, present a bold but romantic outline on the distant horizon. Beneath them flows the Susquehanna, not " unknown to song," whose distant wind- ings may be traced far away, as they peep out abruptly from be- hind some mountain outlet. 2. No wonder that to this delightful spot the wishes of the sagacious aborigines should have been directed. No wonder that the white man should have found their wigwams rising up amidst the darkness of the wilderness, when his rapacious spirit first led him into this romantic region. Neither should we wonder that the all-grasping spirit which has consigned too many of their names to endless infamy, should have early incited them to dispossess the aboriginal proprietors of their peaceful homes ; and they suc- ceeded. 3. Many years the whites had held undisturbed possession of the valley of Wyoming; had ploughed its fertile fields unmo- lested; levelled the traces of its ancient inhabitants, their wig- wams, and the burial-places of their chiefs and warriors, and changed it into a flourishing settlement, when that tremendous struggle for liberty, the revolutionary war, scattered over this ;:aker. v the fii ■ - i. The |>eople .ividedon the inonientou- and tory distinction- - 4. Those devoted to the in »ug E» the surrounding tribes of Iudians, whom they inrifci and deadly revenge. In the heir numbers gradually increased, and their r 1. J-..hn Butler, '■ulou Bui g :itl-.-maii who TO in c.-in- _ o. The commencement of the year had fin t m the time the cunning policy of in. 3 urity tl messengers came in from the hostile tril with ■mu i M CBB I "itler him- . a numerous as- _ _ 1. in their peeu- •hat be wh lo any tl. Their dea _ ■ ■ • I ; and, it is said that re de- _ 36 _ v the dan- • which they were exposed. I - 1 we unfortunately inters - .ania. Meanwhile, the inhab- . for tlieir security, took refuge in their : On the first of July, a body, supposed to be nea hund: I el _. composed of about three hundred Indian-, led by their own chiefs, and a number of tones painted like Indians, un- der the command of Col. John Butler, broke into the Wyoming -lent, and obtained easy possession of one of the two upper which, being garrisoned, as it is alleged, chiefly by concealed ivered up without opposition; the other was taken. 7. The two principal forts, Kingston and Wilkesbarre, were each other, on the opposite sides of the river. Col. Zebulon r r marched into Kingston with the greatest part of the armed COBB'S SPEAKEK. 309 force of the country, and a number of women and children took refuge in the same place. After rejecting a summons to surren- der, he proposed a parley, and a place at some distance from the fort was agreed on for a meeting of the chiefs. He marched out with four hundred men, to the place appointed, where no person was found on the part of the enemy ; but, at a still greater dis- tance from the fort, at the foot of a mountain, a flag was exhibited, which retired as he approached, as if apprehensive of danger from the enemy. 8. Col. Butler continued to advance until he found himself al- most enveloped by the enemy, who ran and fired on him. Not- withstanding the effect to be expected from such circumstances, his troops displayed such a degree of firmness, and acquitted themselves with so much resolution, that the advantage was rather on their side, when a soldier, either through treachery or cowardice, cried out, " The colonel has ordered a retreat." 9. Immediately confusion was succeeded by a total rout. The troops fled towards the river, which they endeavored to pass, in order to enter fort Wilkesbarre ; the enemy pursued " with the fury of devils," and of the four hundred who had marched out on this unfortunate parley, only about twenty escaped. Fort Kingston was immediately invested ; and, to increase the terror of the garrison, and impress on them the horrors of their situation, the bleeding scalps of their murdered countrymen were sent in for their inspection. 10. Col. Zebulon Butler having withdrawn himself and family down the river, Col. Dennison, the commanding officer, went out to inquire of the officer commanding the besiegers, what terms would be allowed the garrison on surrendering the fort. Uniting to Spartan brevity more than cannibal ferocity, this tutored sav- age answered in two words, " The hatchet." 11. Having lost a great part of his garrison, being unable to hold out longer, and not supposing it possible that the unresisting could be coolly and deliberately massacred, Col. Dennison surren- dered at discretion. He misunderstood the character of those into whose hands he had fallen. The threat of Butler was executed 310 COBB'S SPEAKER. with scrupulous punctuality. After selecting a few prisoners, the great body of the people in the fort were enclosed in the houses, fire was applied to them, and they were consumed together. 12. Butler then passed over to Wilkesbarre, which was surren- dered without resistance. The effort to mollify the revengeful fury which governed him was unavailing. The continental sol- diers, amounting to about seventy, were hacked to pieces. Hie remaining men, with the women and children, shared the fate of their brethren in Kingston ; they perished in the flames. All show of resistance was now terminated, but the ruin contemplated was not yet complete. Near three thousand person^ had escaped living without money, clothes, or food, they .-ought for safety in the interior country. 13. To prevent their returning, every thing remaining behind them was doomed to destruction. Fire and the sword were alter- nately applied ; and, all the houses and improvements which the labor of years had provided, as well as every living animal which could be found, were destroyed. The settlements of the tones alone were preserved. They appeared, says Mr. Gordon, as islands in the midst of surrounding ruin. 14. Some peculiar instances of barbarity have been related in the details given of this expedition, at which human nature recoils. Parents were murdered by their children, and brothers and sisters fell by the hands of brothers. Of such crimes are men capable, when the torch of civil discord is once lighted, and all the endear- ing social ties which sweeten life are made to yield to political fury ! The incursions of irregulars may be often repeated, but are seldom of long duration. The invaders of Wyoming withdrew from the countiy which they had thus laid waste before the ar- rival of the continental troops which were detached to meet them. 15. Even at this distant day, there remain a few survivers of this awful and heart-rending visitation. A few who went out with Col. Zebulon Butler, to meet the deceitful flag of truce, and who escaped, still repeat the harrowing events of that terrible catastrophe. Their relations of it should be preserved ; for, the time will soon arrive when the departing worthies of those iron times will be COBB'S SPEAKER. 311 no more among us. One by one they depart, leaving those who survive, a bright and almost sacred charge for their descendants to console and cherish. LESSON CXVII. THE PRISONER'S ADDRESS TO HIS MOTHER. C. M. [During our visit to the Massachusetts State Prison some time since, the Warden spoke with deep interest of a Prisoner whose talents as a Poet had excited much attention. "We find the following lines from his pen in " The Prisoner's Friend." Our readers will agree with us in pronouncing them very beautiful. — Editor Tribune, New York, Feb. 14, 1846.] 1. I've wandered far from thee, mother, Far from our happy home ; I 've left the land that gave me birth, In other climes to roam ; And Time, since then, has rolled his years, And marked them on my brow ; Yet still, I 've often thought of thee, I'm thinking of thee now. 2. I 'm thinking of those days, mother, When, with such earnest pride, You watched the dawnings of my youth, And pressed me to your side ; Then love had filled my trusting heart With hopes of future joy, And thy bright fancy honors wove To deck thy " darling boy." 3. I 'm thinking on the day, mother, I left thy watchful care, When thy fond heart was lifted To Heaven, thy trust was there ; 312 COBB'S SI'KA k B K. And memory brings thy parting w When tears fell o'er thy cheek ; But thy last loving, anxious look, Told more than words could speak. 4. I'm far away from thee, mother, No friend is near me now, To sooth me with i tender word, Nor cool my burning brow ; The dearest ti»-> affection wove Are all now torn from me ; They left me when the trouble came, They did not love like thee. 5. I would not have thee know, mother, How brightest hopes decay, The tempter, with his baneful cup, lias dashed them all away ; And shame has lefl its venomed sting, To rack with anguish wild ! 'Twould grieve thy tender heart to know The sorrows of thy child. G. I 'm lonely and forsaken now, Unpitied and unblest ; Yet still, I would not have thee know How sorely I 'm distressed ; I know thou wouldst not chide, mother, Thou wouldst not give me pain, But cheer me with thy softest words, And bid me hope again. V. I know thy tender heart, mother, Still beats as warm for me, As w T hen I left thee, long ago, To cross the broad blue sea ; COBB'S SPEAKER. 313 And I love thee just the same, mother, And I long to hear thee speak, And feel again thy balmy breath Upon my care-worn cheek. But ah ! there is a thought, mother, Pervades my beating breast, That thy freed spirit may have flown To its eternal rest ; And, as I wipe the tear away, There whispers in mine ear A voice, that speaks of Heaven and thee, And bids me seek thee there. LESSON CXVIII. THE SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. WEBSTER. 1. The settlement of Few England, by the colony which landed here on the twenty-second of December, sixteen hundred and twenty, although not the first European establishment in what now constitutes the United States, was yet so peculiar in its causes and character, and has been followed, and must still be followed, by such consequences, as to give it a high claim to lasting com- memoration. 2. On these causes and consequences, more than on its imme- diately attendant circumstances, its importance, as an historical event, depends. Great actions and striking occurrences, having excited a temporary admiration, often pass away and are forgotten, because they leaye no lasting results, affecting the prosperity of communities. Such is frequently the fortune of the most brilliant military achievements. 3. Of the ten thousand battles which have been fought ; of all the fields fertilized with carnage ; of the banners which have been 14 31-i COBB'S SPEAK BR. bathed in blood; of the warriors who have hoped thai they bad risen from the field of conquest to a glory as bright and as durable as the stars, how few that continue Long to interest mankind] The victory of yesterday ia reversed by the defeat of to-day; the atarof military glory, rising like a meteor, like a meteor baa fallen ; disgrace and disaster hang on the heels of conquest and renown ; victor and vanquished presently pass away to oblivion, and the world holds on it- course, with the loss of bo many lives, and so much treasure. 4. But if this ia frequently, or generally, the fortune of military achievements, it ia not always so. There are enterprises, military as well aa civil, that sometimes check the current of events, a in m turn to human affaire, and transmit their consequences through their importance in their results, and call them great, because great things follow. 5. There have been battles which have fixed the fate of nations. These c >me down to us in history with a solid and permanent in- fluence, not created by a display of glittering armor, the rush of advease battalions, the sinking and rising of pennons, the flight, the pursuit, and the victory; but by their effect in advancing or re- tarding human know! dge, in overthrowing or establishing despo- tism, in extending or destroying human happiness. G. When the traveller pauses on the plain- of Marathon, what are the emotions which strongly agitate his breast \ What ia that glorious recollection that thrills through his frame, and Buffuaee his eye? Not, T imagine, that Grecian skill and Grecian valor were here most signally displayed ; but that Greece herself was saved. V. It is because to this spot, and to the event which has rendered it immortal, he refers all the succeeding glories of the republic. It is because, if that day had gone otherwise, Greece had perished. It is because he perceives that her philosophers and orators, her poets and painters, her sculptors and architects, her government and free institutions, point backward to Marathon ; and that their future existence seems to have been suspended on the contingency, whether the Persian or Grecian banner should wave victorious in the beams of that day's setting sun. COBB'S SPEAKER. 315 8. And, as his imagination kindles at the retrospect, he is transported back to the interesting moment ; he counts the fearful odds of the contending hosts ; his interest for the result overwhelms him ; he trembles as if it were still uncertain, and seems to doubt whether he may consider Socrates and Plato, Demosthenes, Sopho- cles, and Phidias, as secure, yet, to himself and to the world. 9. " If we conquer," said the Athenian commander on the morning of that decisive day, " if we conquer, we shall make Athens the greatest city of Greece." A prophecy, how well fulfilled ! 10. "If God prosper us," might have been the more appro- priate language of our fathers, when they landed upon this rock ; " if God prosper us, we shall here begin a work that shall last for ages ; we shall plant here a new society, in the principles of full liberty, and the purest religion ; we shall subdue this wilderness which is before us ; we shall fill this region of the great continent, which stretches almost from pole to pole, with civilization and Christianity ; the temples of the true God shall rise where now as- cends the smoke of idolatrous sacrifice ; fields and gardens, the flowers of summer, and the waving and golden harvests of autumn, shall extend over a thousand hills, and stretch along a thousand valleys, never yet, since the creation, reclaimed to the use of civilized man. 11. " We shall whiten this coast with the canvass of a prosper- ous commerce ; we shall stud the long and winding shore with a hundred cities. That which we sow in weakness shall be raised in strength. 12. "From our sincere, but houseless worship, there shall spring splendid temples to record God's goodness ; from the sim- plicity of our social union, there shall arise wise and politic con- stitutions of government, full of the liberty which we ourselves bring and breathe ; from our zeal for learning, institutions shall spring, which shall scatter the light of knowledge throughout the land, and, in time, paying back what they have borrowed, shall con- tribute their part to the great aggregate of human knowledge ; and our descendants, through all generations, shall look back to this spot, and this hour, with unabated affection and regard." 316 COBB'S SPEAKER. LESSON CXIX. THE RETURN OF SPRING. BAYARD TAYLOR. 1. The anxious crisis of the Spring was past, And warmth was master o'er the lingering cold. The alder's catkins dropped ; the maple cast His crimson bloom, the willow's downy gold Blew wide, and softer than a squirrel's ear, The white oak's foxy leaves began to appear. 2. There was a motion in the soil A sound Lighter than foiling seed-, Bhooik out of flowers, Exhaled where dead leares, sodden on the ground, Repressed the eager grass ; and there for hours Osseo lay, and \ainly strove to bring Into his mind the miracle of Spring. 3. The wood-birds knew it, and their voices rang Around his lodge ; with many a dart and whirr Of saucy joy, tin- shrewish cat-bird sang Full-throated, and he heard the kingfisher, Who from his God escaped with rumpled crest, And the white medal still upon his breast. 4. The aquelegia sprinkled on the rocks A scarlet rain ; the yellow violet Sat in the chariot of its leaves ; the phlox Held spikes of purple flame in meadows wet, And all the streams with vernal-scented reed Were fringed, and streaky bells of miskodeed. COBB'S SPEAKEE. 317 LESSON CXX. CAPILLARY ATTRACTION. LIBRARY OF USEFUL KNOWLEDGE. 1. It is the general rule, that no liquid can of itself rise higher »n the inside of a tube than it stands on the outside ; but there is an exception to this rule which requires to be explained. 2. If a drop of water, or any liquid of a like degree of fluidity, be pressed upon a solid surface, it will wet that surface and stick to it, instead of keeping together, and running off when the sur- face is held sloping. This shows that the parts of the liquid are more attracted by the parts of the solid than by one another. In the same manner, if you observe the edge of any liquid in a vessel, as wine in a glass, and note where it touches the glass, you will see that it is not quite level close to the glass, but becomes some- what hollow, and is raised upon it, so as to stand a little higher at the edge than in the middle and other parts of its surface. 3. It appeal's, therefore, that there is an attraction, at very small distances from the edge, sufficient to suspend the part of the fluid near it, and prevent it from sinking to the level of the rest. Sup- pose the wine-glass to be diminished, so as to leave no room for any of the wine in the middle which lies flat and level, but only to leave room for the small rim of liquor raised up all around on the side of the glass ; in other words, suppose a very small tube, placed with its lower end just so as to touch the liquor ; it is evident that the liquor will stand up somewhat higher in the tube than on the outside, and if the tube be made smaller and smaller, the liquor wall rise higher, there being always less weight of liquid to counterbalance the attraction of the glass. 4. Tubes of this very small bore are called capillary, from a Latin word signifying hair, because they are small, like hairs. Generally, any tube of less than l-20th of an inch diameter in the inside is a capillary tube ; and if it is placed so as to touch the surface of water, the water will rise in it to a height which is greater the smaller the bore of the tube is. If the diameter of the tube is 1-5 Oth part of an inch, the water will rise to the height of 318 COBB'S SPEAKER. one inch; if it be one l-100tli, the water will rise two inches; if l-200th, the water will rise four inches, and so on in proportion as the bore is lessened. 5. The action of the tubes upon liquids depends, however, it must be recollected, upon the nature of the solid substances of which they are made. If the glass is smeared with grease so that the water will not stick to it, the Liquid will not rise at all. So,difierent liquids rise to different heights in the same tube, but not accord- ing t<> their specific gravity. Mercury does not rise at all; on the contrary, it sinks considerably lower than its level outride the tube. 6. Capillary attraction performs many important offi< ■< nature. Probably the distribution of moisture in the earth is reg- ulated by it ; and there is no doubt that the distribution of the juices in plants depends principally upon it. The rise of the sap and its circulation is performed in the fine capillary tubes of the wood and bark, which are the arteries and veins of vegetables. Any one may perceive how this process is performed, by twisting together several threads of cotton or worsted, and wetting them. If they are then put in a glass of any colored fluid, as red wine or ink, and allowed to hang down to the plate on which the glass stands, the fluid will soon be perceived to creep up, and color the whole of the threads, red or black, as the case may be ; and in a short time the whole contents of the glass will come over into the plate. V. Capillary tubes may in this manner cany juices upwards, and distribute them through plants. The juice, it is true, can not be so carried from a lower to a higher level in a capillary tube, and flow out from the top ; but it may be carried upwards in one, and then flow horizontally into others ; and from these it may be carried upwards again in a third set of tubes ; or it may be carried in any direction by capillary syphons. Spongy bodies act in all probability on liquids in the same manner, by means of a great number of extremely small capillary tubes, of which their substance is entirely composed. COBB'S SPEAKEB. 819 LESSON CXXI. MISTAKES IN PERSONAL IDENTITY. DICKENS' HOUSEHOLD WORDS. 1. There is no kind of evidence more infirm in its nature, and against which jurymen on legal trials should be more on their guard, than that involving identity of person. The number of per- sons who resemble each other is not inconsiderable in itself ; but, the number is very large of persons who, though very distinguish- able when standing side by side, are yet sufficiently alike to deceive those who are without the means of immediate comparison. 2. Early in life, an occurrence impressed me with the danger of relying on the most confident belief of identity. I was at Vaux- hall Gardens, where I thought I saw, at a short distance, an old country gentleman whom I highly respected, and whose favor 1 should have been sorry to lose. I bowed to him, but obtained no recognition. 3. In those days the company amused themselves by walking around in a circle, some in one direction, some in the opposite, by which means every one saw and was seen ; I say in those days, because I have not been at Vauxhall for a quarter of a century. In performing these rounds I often met the gentleman, and tried to attract his attention, until I became convinced that either his eyesight was so weakened that he did not know me, or that he chose to disown my acquaintance. 4. Some time afterward, going into the county in which he re- sided, I received, as usual, an invitation to dinner ; this led to an explanation, when my friend assured me he had not been in Lon- don for twenty years. I afterward met the person whom I had mistaken for my old friend, and wondered how I could have fallen into the error. 5. I can only explain it by supposing that, if the mind feels satisfied of identity, which it often does at the first glance, it ceases to investigate that question, and occupies itself with other matters; as in my case, where my thoughts ran upon the motives my friend might have for not recognising me, instead of employing them- 320 COBB'S sim: a I I R, selves on the question of whether or do the individual before my eyes was indeed the person I took him for. C. It I had had to give evidence on this matter my mistake would have been the more dangerous, as I had full meai knowledge. The pi 11 lighted, the interviews w. i 1, and my mind was undisturbed. How often have! known : identity acted upon by juries, where the witness was in a much less favorable position, foi beervation, than mine. 7. Sometimes, a mistaken verdict is avoided by independent evidence. Rarely, however, is this i imina- tion, even when conducted with adequate Bkill and experience. The belief of the witness is belief in a matter of opinion resulting from a combination of facta so Blight and unimp irtant, separately considered, thai they rarnish no handle t<> tip' croes^iaminei striking case of tlii-> kind ocean t<> mj i o, with which I will concli 8. A prisoner was endicted for shooting at the prosecutor, with intent to kill him. The prosecutor swore that tin- prisoner bad de- manded bis money, and that upon refusal or delay, to comply with hi- requisition, he fired a pistol, by tin- Bash of which liis countenance became perfectly % i^i I il< • ; the shot did and tlw prisoner made off 9. Hen- the recognition was momentary, and the prosecutor could hardly have been in an undisturb of mind, yet the confidence of his belief made a Btrong impression on all who heard the evidence, and probably would have sealed the fate of the pris- oner without til-' aid of an additional fact of very slight impor- tance, which waSj however, put in evidence, by way of corroboration, that the prisoner, who was a stranger to the neighborhood, had been seen passing near the spot in which the attack was made about noon of the same day. The judge belonged to a class now, thank God ! obsolete, who always acted on the reverse of the con- stitutional maxim, and considered every man guilty until lie was proved to be innocent. 10. If the case had closed without witnesses on behalf of the COBB'S SPEAKEE. 321 prisoner, his life would have been gone ; fortunately he possessed the means of employing an able and zealous attorney ; and more fortunately, it so happened that several hours before the attack the prisoner had mounted upon a coach, and was many miles from the scene of the crime at the hour of its commission. 11. With great labor, and at considerable expense, all the pas- sengers were sought out, and, with the coachman and guard, were brought int^ ?--?rt, and testified to the presence among them of the prisoner. An alibi is always a suspected defence, and by no man was ever more suspiciously watched than by this judge. But when witness after witness appeared, their names corresponding exactly with the way-bill produced by the clerk of a respectable coach-office, the most determined skepticism gave way, and the prisoner was acquitted by acclamation. 12. He was not, however, saved by his innocence, but by his good fortune. How frequently does it happen to us all to be many hours at a time without having witnesses to prove our ab- sence from one spot by our presence at another ! And how many of us are too prone to avail ourselves of such proof in the instance where it may exist ! LESSON CXXII. FORMATION OF CHARACTER. EXTRACTS FROM AN ADDRESS OF PRESIDENT HOW, TO THE GRADUATES OF DICKINSON COLLEGE. 1. The great end of education, as you have been reminded, is the formation of character ; of a character marked by lofty, intel- lectual, and moral excellence. On the formation of such a char- acter greatly depends your usefulness and honor through life, and the reward for well doing which in the world to come you will re- ceive from your righteous Judge. 2. A mind richly fraught with knowledge, and a heart deeply imbued with the fear of God and the love of virtue, bestow on 14* 322 COBB'S SPEAKER. oharacter a loveliness, an elevatioo and grandeur that can b livid from no other resources : and happy indeed aha]] we e ourselves, it" our instructions ami counsels have awakened in your bosoms a fixed determination to >u enter en the theatre of action is one of unusual excitement and effort in every part of the world. Great changes are taking place in the physical, the inteil and moral condition of mankind; a feverish restlessness seem to pervade every rank and every nation; and mighty conflicting en >rgi< - are al work, which threaten to alter the whole aspect of ty. \. Under Bucb cafcumstances, we new with deep interest the entrance of every new actor on the troubled scene. To yon we look as the future guardians of the Institutions of your country ; the patrons and protectors of its freedom, its science and its moral-. They who now occupy the chief stations in the great drama of life, ■will soon pass away, and their places be vacated by death, while you will be called forward to till them. A liberal education gives to its possessor incalculable advantages, and is of inestimable worth. 5. By enlarging and invigorating the mind, it qualifies for do- ing great good or great mischief; and no one can calculate the amount of influence which yon may exert, or of good which yon mav perform. Aspire then to distinguished usefulness. Sutler not your present attainments to be lost and your talents to become enfeebled by sloth ; but fit yourselves for acting a high, dignified, and useful part in life. G. To qualify yourselves for thus acting, you must be willing to undergo that labor and previous preparation, without which no superior excellence was ever obtained. No talents, however e did, nor wealth, nor worldly connexions and influence, can ever compensate for the absence of these ; and with these you may ac- complish almost every thing. V. The amount of influence to which you may attain, and of good which you will accomplish, will greatly depend on the culti- vation which you bestow upon your mind, and the amount c e COBB'S SPEAKER. 823 knowledge you acquire. We hope that none of you think that you have now completed your studies. You have just begun them. 8. All that hitherto we have been able to accomplish ; indeed, all that we have aimed at, is, to teach you how to study, and to spread out before you the wide extent of the field of science on which you have just entered. The amount of your future attain- ments will depend upon yourselves. You can make yourselves almost what you please. Moderate talents, with unremitting, well-directed effort, will effect astonishing improvement. 9. It will soon be necessary for you to select a profession for life. Whatever that profession may be, choose it with delibera- tion, with the advice of your parents, and with prayer to the Fa- ther of lights for his direction ; and when you have once chosen it, enter on it with a fixed determination to excel ; with ardent attachment to it ; with pure motives, and with elevated views. I trust that each of you will aim at distinction and eminence in his profession ; and be assured that nothing will conduce more to this than a thorough acquaintance with it in all its departments, and with every branch of science that belongs to it. 10. Let me advise you not to enter on it too early and without suitable preparation. A too great eagerness to enter on public life is perhaps characteristic of our youth. They do not sufficiently appreciate the importance of rich intellectual furniture ; and hence instead of appearing with the majesty and vigor of intellectual giants, too many pass through life puny and feeble dwarfs. No stable and magnificent edifice can be erected on a scanty and weak foundation, and no great eminence can be attained without those thorough acquirements which result from close study. 11. In aiming to arrive at eminence you must expect difficulties and discouragements. The indolent will be displeased at your in- dustry, and as they are unwilling to submit to the labor which is necessary to place them on an equality with you, they will en- deavor by misrepresentation to draw you down to a level with them ; they will attempt to excuse their own indolence by repre- senting you as ambitious, proud, and aspiring. 12. Rivals will oppose and thwart you, and envy and jealousy 324 C O B B S SPEAKER will often detract fh m your merits. Expect these thingp sod dU- ! diem. Pursue your way straight onward in the path of duty, and you will overcome every obstacle that envy, and jeal ousy, and malice, and miarepresentatioo may oppose to you. \'). But, besides ■ thorough acquaintance with your profcswoi in all its departments, endeavor to acquire ■ rich store ofvarioui knowledge. Knowledge is now so generally diffused among ail j , and the field i ce which modern d eries and improvements have opened, are bo very extensive, that a man must high attainment to distinction. 14. Bui where thie 1, ii greatlj respectability and influence, an I ability to I • others. A truly learned man ran never be contemptible without his own fault : either through vicious habits and indu through the adoption of had principles. Learning i greater dignity than wealth: it Boftens, refines, and adorns the character: it gives liberal, I elevated views and • nd is a lource of pure and lasting pleasure. LESSON CXXIII. APOSTROPHE TO MONT BLANC. COLERIDGE. 1. Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star In his steep course ? So long he seems to pause On thy bald, awful bead, oh sovereign Blanc ! The Arne, and the Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly, while thou, dread mountain form, Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above, Deep is the sky and black : transpicuous deep, An ebon mass ! Methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! but when I look again, It seems thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity. COBB'S SPEAKER. 325 2. Oh dread and silent form ! I gazed on thee, Till thou, still present to my bodily eye, Didst vanish from my thought. Entranced in prayer, I worshipped the Invisible alone ; Yet thou, methinks, wast working on my soul, E'en like some deep, enchanting melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it. 3. But I awake, and with a busier mind, And active will, self-conscious, offer now, Not as before, involuntary prayer, And passive adoration. Hand and voice, Awake, awake ! and thou, my heart, awake ! Green fields and icy cliffs, all join my hymn ! And thou, silent mountain, sole and bare, ! blacker than the darkness, all the night, And visited all night by troops of stai-s, Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink, Companion of the morning star at dawn, Thyself earth's rosy star, and of the dawn Co-herald ! wake, oh wake, and utter praise ! 4. Who sank thy sunless pillars in the earth ? "Who filled thy countenance with rosy light ? Who made thee father of perpetual streams ? And you, ye five wild torrents, fiercely glad, Who called you forth from night and utter death ? From darkness let you loose, and icy dens, Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks, For ever shattered, and the same for ever ? Who gave you invulnerable life, Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, Unceasing thunder and eternal foam ? 5. And who commanded, and the silence came, " Here shall the billows stiffen and have rest ?" 326 COBB'S SPEAKKi:. Ye ice-falls ! ye that from yon dizzy height* Adown enormous ravines steeply slope; Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty noise, And stopped at once, amidst their maddest plunge, Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! 6. Who made you glorious as the gates of heaves Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with lovely flowers Of living bine, sp read garlands at your feet ? God! God! the torrents like a shout of nations Utter; the ice-plain bursts, and answers, God! God! sing the meadow-streams with gladsome v* And pine groves with their soft and soul-like sound: The silent snow-mass, loosening, thunders, God ! 7. Ye dreadless flowers, that fringe the eternal frost ! Ye wild goats, bounding by the eagle's nest! xe eagles, playmates of the mountain blast] Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the cloud ! Ye signs and wonders of the elements, Utter forth God ! and fill the hills with praise ! 8. And thou, oh silent form, alone and bare, Whom, as I lift again my head, bowed low In silent adoration, I again behold, And to thy summit upward from thy base Sweep slowly, with dim eyes suffused with tears ; Awake, thou mountain form ! Rise, like a cloud ; Rise, like a cloud of incense from the earth ! Thou kingly spirit throned among the hills ! Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven, Great hierarch ! tell thou the silent sky, And tell the stars, and tell the rising sun, Earth, with her thousand voices, calls on God ! COBB'S SPEAKER. 327 LESSON CXXIV. THE DIVING BELL. DR. LARDNER. 1. The spirit of inquiry which so strongly characterizes the human mind, and which stimulates man to undertakings in which life itself is imminently risked, has not only prompted him to ascend into the regions of the air, but has also carried him to the depths of the sea. 2. The practice of diving is of very early origin, and was first probably adopted for the recovery of articles of value dropped into the water at small depths. Instances are recorded of persons having acquired by practice the habit of enduring submersion for a length of time which, in many cases, seems astonishing, and in others altogether incredible. Indeed, the circumstances attending most of these narrations bear unequivocal marks of fiction. 3. The gratification of a taste for the marvellous does not tempt us to allow a space in our pages for a description of the feats of the Sicilian diver, whose chest was so capacious that by one inspiration he could draw in sufficient air to last him a whole day, during which time he would sojourn at the bottom of the sea, and who became so inured to the water, that it was almost a matter of indifference to him whether he walked on dry land or swam in the deep, remaining often for five days in the sea, living upon the fish which he caught ! 4. Various attempts were made to assist the diver by enabling him to carry down a supply of air ; and after a long period and gradual improvements, suggested by experience, the present diving bell was produced. This machine depends for its efficacy on that quality in air which is common to all material substances, impene- trability ; that is, the total exclusion of all other bodies from the space in which it is present. 5. The diving bell is a large vessel closed at the sides and at the top, but open at the bottom. It should be perfectly impenetrable to air and water. When such a machine, with its mouth, down- wards, is pressed into the water by sufficient weights suspended 328 COBB'S SPEAKER. from it, the air contained in it at the surface will be enclosed by 1 1 i « • -ides, the top, and the surface of the Water which enters the mouth of the machine. As it descends in the liquid, the air enclosed in it is subject to the pressure, which increases in propor- tion bo the depth, and by virtue of its elasticity will beoom densed in proportion to tin- pressure, G. Thus at the depth of about 84 feet, the hvdi-.--t.ttir p* will be equal to that of tie- atmosphere; and since the air at the Burface of the water is under the atmospheric pressure, it will !><-, affected by double the pressure at the depth of -;t feet It will, therefore, be condensed bo much a- to !><• reduced to half it- nal dimensions. Half the capacity <>f the machine will, thai he filled with water, and the Other half will contain all the air which filled the machine at the momenl of it> immersion. As the depth is increased, the space occupied by the air in the bell will be proportionally diminished. 7. It 18 well known that if an animal continue to respire in a space from which a fresh supply of atmospheric air is excluded, the air confined in tie- space will, at length, become unfit for the support of life. This is owing to an effect produced upon the air drawn into the lungs, by which when breathed it contains carbonic acid, an ingredient not present in the natural atmosphere, and which is highly destructive to animal life.* 8. When the air in which the animal is confined has been breathed for a length of time, this effect being repeated, the air enclosed becomes highly impregnated with this gas ; and if its escape be not allowed, and a fresh supply of atmospheric air admitted, the animal can not live. If, therefore, a diving bell be used to enable persons to descend in water, it will be necessary either to raise them to the surface after that interval in which the air confined in the bell becomes unfit for respiration, or means * There is always present, however, in every part of the atmosphere, a very small and variable proportion of carbonic acid. Animal respiration greatly increases the quantity of this deleterious gas in a confined portion of air, and also diminishes the quantity of oxygen gas, that constituent of atmospheric air on which its power of sustaining life depends. — Am. Ed. COBB'S SPEAKER. 329 must be adopted to send down a supply of fresh air, and to allow the impure air to escape. 9. But besides this, there is another reason why means of send- ing down a supply of air are necessary. It has already been proved, that the hydrostatic pressure causes the water to fill a large part of the capacity of the machine, the air contained in it feeing condensed. It is necessary, therefore, in order to maintain sufficient room for the diver free from water, to supply such a quantity oi air. as that in its condensed state it will keep the sur- face of the water near the mouth of the machine. Thus, at the depth of 3-4 feet, it will be necessary to supply as much air as would fill the bell in its natural state. At double that depth, as much more will be necessary, and so on. 10. The air necessary for these purposes is supplied by one or more large condensing syringes. These syringes, or pumps, are placed above the surface of the water into which the bell is let down, and they communicate with the interior of the bell by a flexible tube carried through the water and under the mouth of the bell. Through this tube any quantity of fresh air, which may be requisite for either of the purposes already mentioned, may be supplied. A tube furnished with a stopcock is placed on the top of the bell, by which the diver can let any quantity of impure air escape, to make room for the fresh air which is admitted. The impure air will rise by its levity in bubbles to the surface. 11. The diving bell received its name from the shape originally given to it. It was constructed with a round top, increasing in magnitude towards the mouth, thus resembling the shape of a bell. It is now, however, usually constructed square at the top and bottom, the bottom being a little larger than the top, and the sides slightly diverging from above. The material is sometimes cast iron, the whole machine being cast in one piece, .and made very thick, so that there is no danger either from leakage or frac- ture. In this case the weight of the machine itself is sufficient to sink it. Diving bells, however, are also sometimes constructed of close-grained wood, two planks being connected together with sheet-lead between them. 330 COBB'S SPEAK BR. 12. In the top of the machine are placed several strong lenses for the admission of light, such ai in used in the d. . vessels to illuminate the apartments below. The shape of the machine is generally oblong, with seats for the divei at the end ; Bhelvee for took, writing materials, <>r any other article to be carried down, aiv placed at the sides ; and below the seats there are boards placed across the machine to support the feet Messages are communicated from below to above either in writing or by signals. A board is carried in the bell on which a written message may be chalked. This hoard communicates by i cord with the arm of the superintendent above, who, on a signal given, draws it upland who, in ■ similar way, is able to return an answer. 13. When the bell is of cast iron, a system of signals maybe made by v.tv simple means; a Wow struck by a hammer on th< produces a peculiar sound distinctly audible at the Burfitce of the water, and which can not be mistaken foi any other nose. The number of strokes mad.- on the bell indicates the nature of the message, the smaller number of strokes signifying those messages most frequently necessary. Thus, a single stroke calls for a supply of fresh air; two strokes command the bell to standstill; three express a desire to he drawn up; four to be lowered, and higher numbers express motion in different directions, Of course this system of signals is arbitrary, and liable to be varied in different 14. The bell is usually Busp* nded from a crane, which is placed above the surface of the water; and in order to move it, this crane is placed on a rail-way, by which it is enabled to traverse a certain space in one direction. The carriage which traverses this rail-way supports another rail-way in directions at right angles to it, on which the crane is supported. By these means two motions may be given to the crane, the extent of which may be determined by the length of the rail-way, and the bell may be brought to any part of the bottom which is perpendicularly below the parallelogram formed by the length of the rail-way. COBB'S SPEAKER. 331 LESSON CXXV. THE DEPARTED. PARK BENJAMIN. 1. The departed! the departed ! They visit us in dreams, And they glide above our memories Like shadows over streams ; But where the cheerful lights of home In constant lustre burn, The departed, the departed, Can never more return ! 2. The good, the brave, the beautiful, How dreamless is their sleep, Where rolls the dirge-like music Of the ever-tossing deep ! Or where the surging night-winds Pale winter's robes have spread Above the narrow palaces, In the cities of the dead ! 3. I look around, and feel the awe Of one who walks alone, Among the wrecks of former days, In mournful ruin strown ; I start to hear the stirring sounds Among the cypress-trees, For the voice of the departed Is borne upon the breeze. 4. That solemn voice ! it mingles with Each free and careless strain ; I scarce can think earth's minstrelsey Will cheer my heart again. 332 COBB'S SPEAKER. The melody of summer ww\ TL»- thrilling notes of birds, Can oever be bo deer to me, As their remembere 1 words. 5. I sometimes dream, their pleasant smiles 9 I on me Bweetly tall, Their tones of love I faintly bear My name in sadness call. I know that they are happy! With their angel-plumage on, Bui my heart is very desolate, To think thai they are gone. LESSON CXXVI. BOOKS FOR THE FIRE. SOUTHEY. 1. Young readers, you whose hearts are open, whose under- standings arc not yet hardened, and whose feelings are neither ex- hausted nor mcrusted by the world, take from me a better rule than any professors of criticism will teach you. Would you know whether the tendency of a book is good or evil, examine in what state of mind you lay it down. 2. Has it induced you to suspect that what you have been ac- customed to think unlawful, may after all be innocent, and that that may be harmless which you have hitherto been taught to think dangerous ? Has it tended to make you dissatisfied and im- patient under the control of others, and disposed you to relax in that self-government without which both the laws of God and man tell us there can be no virtue, and consequently no happi- ness? 3. Has it attempted to abate your admiration and reverence for what is grea,' and good, and to diminish in you the love of your COBB'S SPEAKER. 333 country and your fellow-creatures ? Has it addressed itself to your pride, your vanity, your selfishness, or any other of your evil pro- pensities ? Has it defiled the imagination with what is loathsome, and shocked the heart with what is monstrous ? 4. Has it disturbed the sense of right and wrong, which the Creator has implanted in the human soul ? If so, if you have felt that such were the effects that it was intended to produce, throw the book into the fire, whatever name it may bear on the title-page. Throw it into the fire, young man, though it should have been the gift of a friend ; young lady, away with the whole set, though it should be the prominent furniture of a rosewood book-case. LESSON CXXVIL THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. LONGFELLOW. 1. Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. 2. His hair is crisp, and black, and long ; His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat ; He earns whate'er he can ; And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man. 3. Week in, week out, from mom till night, You can hear his bellows blow ; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell When the evening sun is low. 334 COBB'S SPEAKER. 4. And children, coming home from school, Look in at the open door ; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a thrashing-floor. 5. He goes on Sunday to the ohurch, And sit-> BmODg his hoys ; He hears the parson pray and preach; He hears his daughter's voice Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. 6. It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. V. Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. 8. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought. cobb's speaker. 335 LESSON CXXYIIL SCENES IN THE ALPS. FROM THE NOTE BOOK OF AN AMERICAN LADY TRAVELLING: IN EUROPE. 1. We reached the dark defile of Clusen, and down its steep- ness we gazed until spell-bound by its grand desolation. The white wings of some mountain-bird, glanced athwart the gloom, and disappeared. Atalia pointed to the pinnacles of the Flegere rising so solemnly above us. A dark form was bending over them, and we recognised the hunter, La Moile. The sun illumed his form and revealed the rifle that never missed its mark. All was sombre and shadowy with us, but a halo of brightness encir- cled him. 2. " Thus," thought I, " it is ever with the human race. Some surrounded with joyance, and others concealed in gloom." Sud- denly there was a light rustling heard in the heather, and a grace- ful child of the mountains stood despairingly a moment before us. Pure as the snow of the Flegere, was the white hair of this kid of the chamois goat. Sadly it gazed at us as we stood in its path. Above, the hunter's rifle ; before it, seeming foes. " Oh, spare it !" we shouted. " Spare it !" replied the sombre cliffs. 3. We dared not move on that narrow verge. The startled kid looked appealingly at us, a tear glistened in its soft black eyes ; it trembled, like the graceful leaves of the acacia, hesitated then, in its hopeless agony, sprung over the cliff into that dark ravine, and as it fell, the hunter's ball whistled past us, parting a slender sap- ling on the spot where stood its intended victim. 4. We halted to look upon the rich meadows below us ; on our left a belt of sombre pines cast their shadows upon the narrow path. Our attention was diverted by whispering voices. We perceived motion in the branches, and slowly they parted, as two young faces peered through the dark green boughs, and looked half seriously, half mirthfully at us. The older girl was apparently twelve years of age; the younger ten. Brown as gipsies, and as wild looking, were these young maidens. A short skirt of serge, 336 COBB'S SPEAKER. attached to a black velvet bodice, was their only garment : their hah- hurtsr in raven braids to their feet 5. As they Btood amidst the luxurianl foliage, they reminded us of wood-nymphs. Suddenly they commenced Binging, with voices of entrancing sweetness, The melody floated to the i the defiles, while echo murmured back the refrain. Passionate, thrilling, and ennobling were their ich as fined lb" of Tell, and Bent him forth to conquer or to die. 6. As they ceased, for a moment they paused to catch the echo of their voices; with a look of arch wonder they stood, like ex- quisite statues of bronnti, with one linger raised playfully to bid us listen to the mountain response, thru with graceful timidity ap- proached, and holding out a basket made of green leaves and filled with apricots, courtesied a request to buy. Sera, often in other places, money broke the spell of the enchanter. This, then, wan a M gnt up scene," not an impromptu affair. We paid twice the ralue of the apricots, as was expected, and oourte- aying again, the nymphs, no, young merchant-, disappeared. LESSON CXXIX. PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. MACACLAY. 1. That wonderful book, while it obtains admiration from the most fastidious critics, is loved by those who are too simple to ad- mire it. Doctor Johnson, all whose studies were desultory, and who hated, as he said, to read books through, made an exception in favor of the " Pilgrim's Progress." That work, he said, was one of the two or three works which he wished longer. 2. It was by no common merit that the illiterate sectary ex- tracted praise like this from the most pedantic of critics, and the most bigoted of Tories. In the wildest parts of Scotland, the " Pil- grim's Progress" is the delight of the peasantry. In every nursery, the " Pilgrim's Progress" is a greater favorite than " Jack the Giant- COBB'S SPEAKER. 337 Killer." Every reader knows the straight and narrow path, as well as he knows the road in which he has gone backward and forward a hundred times. 3. This is the highest miracle of genius ; that things that are not should be as though they were, that the imaginations of one mind should become the personal recollections of another. And this miracle the tinker has wrought. There is no ascent, no de- clivity, no resting-place, no turn-stile, with which we are not per- fectly acquainted. 4. The wicket-gate, and the desolate swamp which separates it from the City of Destruction ; the long line of road, as straight as a rule can make it ; the Interpreter's house, and all its fair shows ; the prisoner in the iron cage ; the palace, at the doors of which armed men kept guard, and on the battlements of which walked persons clothed all in gold ; the cross and the sepulchre ; the steep hill and the pleasant arbor ; the stately front of the House Beautiful by the way-side ; the low green Valley of Humiliation, rich with grass and covered with flocks, all are as well known to us as the sights of our own street. 5. Then we come to the narrow place where Apollyon strode right across the whole breadth of the way, to stop the journey of Christian, and where afterward the pillar was set up to testify how bravely he had fought the good fight. As we advance, the valley becomes deeper and deeper. The shade of the precipices on both sides falls blacker and blacker. 6. The clouds gather overhead. Doleful voices, the clanking of chains, and the rushing of many feet to and fro, are heard through the darkness. The way, hardly discernible in gloom, runs close by the mouth of the burning pit, which sends forth its flames, its noi- some smoke, and its hideous shapes, to terrify the adventurer. 1. Thence he goes on, amidst the snares and pitfalls, with the mangled bodies of those who have perished lying in the ditch by his side. At the end of the long, dark valley, he passes the dens in which the old giants dwelt, amidst the bones and ashes of those whom they had slain. Then the road passes straight on through a waste moor, till at length the towers of a distant city appear be- 15 338 CO BBS SPEAKER. fore the traveller; and soon he is in the midst of the innumerable multitudes of Vanity Fair. 8. There are the jugglers and the apes, the Bhope and the pup- pet-shows. There are [taliau Row, and French Row, and Spanish Row, and Britain Row, with their crowds of buyers, sellers, and loungers, jabbering all the languages of the earth. Tnence on by the little hill of the silver mine, and through the meadow of lilies, along the bank of that pleasant river which is bordered on both Bides by fruit-in 9. On the lefl side, branches off the path leading to thai hor- rible castle, the court-yard of which is paved with the skulls of pilgrims; and rigid onward are the sheep-folds and orchards of the Delectable Mountains. From the Delectable Mountain.-., t lie way lies through the fogs and briers of the Enchanted Ground, with here and there a bed of soft cushions spread under a arbor. And beyond is the land of Beulah, where the flowers, the grapes, and the songs of bird- and where the sun shines eight and day. 10. JThence are plainly seen the golden pavements and streets of pearl, <>n the other Bide of that black and cold river over which there is no bridge. All the stages of the journey, all the forms which cross or overtake the pilgrims ; giants, and hobgoblins, ill- favored ones, and shining ones; the tall, comely, swarthy Madam Bubble, with ber great purse by her side, and her fingers playing with the money; the black man in the bright vesture; Mr. Worldly Wiseman, and my Lord Hategood ; Mr. Talkative, and Mrs. Timorous, are all actually existing beings to us. 11. We follow the travellers through their allegorical progress with interest not inferior to that with which we follow Elizabeth from Siberia to Moscow, or Jeanie Deans from Edinburg to London. 12. Bunyan is almost the only writer that ever gave to the abstract, the interest of the concrete. In the works of many cele- brated authors, men are mere personifications. We have not an Othello, but jealousy ; not an Iago, but perfidy ; not a Brutus, but patriotism. COBB'S SPEAKER. 339 LESSON CXXX. SPECIFIC GRAVITIES. DR. LARDNER. 1. In the preceding chapters, we have had frequent occasion to compare the weights of different bodies, bulk for bulk ; and not only in science, commerce, and the arts, but even in ordinary col- loquial intercourse, bodies are denominated heavier or lighter, according as the weights of the same bulk are greater or less. "We say familiarly that lead is heavier than copper, and that copper is heavier than cork ; yet it is certain that quantities of lead, copper, and cork may be taken which have equal weights. Thus, let us suppose a pound of lead, a pound of copper, and a pound of cork, to be ascertained and set apart ; it is clear that these have equal weights, and that any two of them, placed in the dishes of a balance, would maintain equilibrium. 2. Yet still we do not cease to declare that cork is lighter than copper, and copper lighter than lead. To perceive with precision what is meant in this case, let us suppose parcels of any three dis- tinct substances placed before us, such as quicksilver, water, and alcohol, and let it be proposed to ascertain which of these liquids is the heaviest : we shall take any measure of the quicksilver, and, having weighed it, afterward weigh the same measure of the water and of the alcohol successively. 3. Having found that the measure of quicksilver is heavier than that of water, and water than that of alcohol, we shall immediately conclude that quicksilver is a heavier liquid than water, and that water is a heavier liquid than alcohol. We shall form this con- clusion, even though the whole quantity of alcohol under examina- tion shall weigh more than the quantities of the water or quick- silver. It appears, therefore, that when the weights of substances are spoken of relatively to one another, without any reference to particular quantities or masses of them, the weights meant to be compared are those of equal bulk. 4. A substance is sometimes said to be heavy or light, appa- rently without reference to any other substance. Thus air is said 340 COBB'S SPEAK KB. to be a very light substance, and gold a very heavy one ; but, in such cases, a comparison is tacitly instituted between the freights, bulk for bulk, of these substances and those of the bodies which most commonly fall under our observation. When we say that air is light, we mean thai a certain bulk of air is much lighter than the same bulk of most of the substances which we com oly meet with ; and when we Bay that gold is heavy, we mean that any portion of that metal is heavier than a portion of the Bame dimen- sions of the most ordinary Bubstances thai we meet with, 5. This familiar use of a positive epithei to express a com- parison between any quality bs it exists in an individual instance and a similar quality as it exists in the average of ordinary exam- ples, is very frequent, and not confined to the casejusl alluded to. We Bpeakofa very tall man and a very high mountain, meaning that tin- man or mountain in question have much greater height than men or mountains commonly have, A man of twenty years of age is Baid to be a very young man, while a horse of twenty years of age is declared to be a very old horse, because the ai age of man is much above twenty, and the average age of hoc* i below it. 6. From what has been now explained, it appears thai the term weight is applied in two distinct, and sometimes opposite » A mass of cork may have any assignable weight, as 100 tuns. This weight is truly said to 1"- considerable, and the mass is correctly Baid to be heavy; but the cork which composes die mass is Baid, with equal truth and propriety, to be a light substance. V. These two ways of considering the weight of a body maj be denominated absolute and relative. The absolute weight of a body is that of its whole mass, without any reference to its bulk ; the relative weight is the weight of a given magnitude of the sub- stance compared with the weight of the same magnitude of other substances. The term weight, however, is commonly used to ex- press absolute weight, while the relative weight of a body is called its .^ecijic gravity. 8. The origin of this term is obvious. Bodies which differ in other qualities are found also to differ in the weights of equal COBB'S SPEAKEK. 341 volumes. Thus a cubic inch of atmospheric air has a weight different from a cubic inch of oxygen, hydrogen, or any of the other gases. The number of grains in a cubic inch of gold is different from the number of grains in the cubic inch of platinum, silver, or any of the other metals. 9. A cubic inch of water contains a number of grains different from a cubic inch of sulphuric acid, alcohol, or other liquids. Hence, it appears that the weight of a given bulk of any substance, being different from the weight of the same bulk of other sub- stances, may be regarded as an index or test of its species, and by the weights of equal bulks bodies may be separated and arranged in species. Hence, the term specific weight, or specific gravity. 10. When bodies are to be compared, in respect of any common quality, a standard of comparison becomes necessary, in order to prevent an express reference to two bodies in every particular case. Thus, if we would express the height of any body without some standard measure, we could only do so by declaring it to be so many times as high, or bearing such a proportion to the height of some other body. But a foot, or a yard, being known lengths, it is only necessary to state that the height of the body is so many feet, or so many yards. 11. In like manner, if we would express the specific gravity of lead, we should state that it had such a proportion to the weight of some other body, the weight of a certain bulk of which is known. But if one substance be selected, to which, as to a stan- dard, all others shall be referred, then the specific gravity of any substance may be expressed simply by a number which has the same proportion to one or the unit as the weight of any bulk of the substance in question has to the weight of an equal bulk of the standard substance. 12. The body selected as the standard or unit of specific gravity should be one easily obtained, and subject as little as possible to variation by change of circumstances or situation. For this pur- pose water possesses many advantages ; but, in deciding the state in which it is to be considered as the standard, several circumstan- ces must be attended to. 342 COBB'S SPEAK EB. 13. First ; the water must be pure, because the admixture of other substances, will affect the weight of a given volume of it; and -in--'', at different times, and in differenl places, irate/ may have different substances mixed with it, the standard would vary, and therefore, the specific gravities of substances ascertained with refer- ence to it at different tunes and places would not admit of com- parison. 14. Thus, if the proportion of the weight, bulk for bulk, of gold t<> the weight of the water of the Seine wen- ascertained at Paris, and the weight of another specimen of that metal relatively to the water of the Thames were ascertained at London, the specific gravities of tint two portions of metal could not he inferred Unless it were previously known that the water of the Thames and the water of the Seine were composed of the same ingredients, or if not, unless their relative weights, bulk for bulk, were previously de- termined. That the standard, therefore, may be invariable, it is necessary that all substances which may be combine*] with the water shall be extricated- 15. Such heterogeneous matter as may be suspended in the liquid in a solid state may be disengaged from it by filtration ; that is, by ]»a>sing the liquid through a solid substance whose pores are smaller than the solid impurities to be extricated. If any sub- stances be held in solution by the water, or be chemically com- bined with it, they may be disengaged by distillation ; that is, by raising the temperature of the liquid to a point at which the water will pass off in vapor, leaving the other substances behind ; or, if those other substances vaporize at a lower heat, they will pass off, leaving the water behind : in either case, the water will be separa- ted from the other bodies with which it is combined. It is evi- dent that this latter process of distillation also serves the purposes of the former one for filtration. 16. Secondly ; the water being thus obtained in its pure state, and free from admixture with any other substance, it is to be con- sidered whether there be any other cause which can make the same bulk of the liquid w r eigh differently at different times and places. We have already more than once alluded to the way by COBB'S SPEAKER. 343 which bodies are affected in changes of temperature. Every in- crease of temperature, in general, produces an increase of bulk, and, therefore, causes a given volume, as a cubic inch, to weigh less. 17. Hence, in comparing the weights, bulk for bulk, of any substances, at different times or places, with the weight of pure water, the results of the investigation would not admit of compar- ison, unless the different states of the water with respect to tem- perature were distinctly known. In addition, therefore, to the purity of the water taken as a standard, it is expedient that some fixed temperature be adopted. 18. It has been already explained that water, as it decreases in temperature, also contracts its dimensions until it attains the tem- perature of about 40° ; it then again begins to expand : at this temperature of 40° it is, therefore, in its least dimensions, and it is known that when the water is pure, its state at this tem- perature is independent of time, place, or other circumstances ; it is the same at all parts of the earth, and under whatever circum- stances it may be submitted to experiment. 19. The temperature at which pure water has its dimensions most contracted is called the state of greatest condensation, be- cause then the mass of the liquid is reduced to the smallest possi- ble dimensions, and its particles have the greatest possible prox- imity. The weight of a given bulk of distilled water in the state of greatest condensation is, therefore, the standard of specific gravity. 20. As it may not always be convenient to obtain water at this temperature, _when experiments on specific gravity are to be made, numerical tables have been constructed expressing the change of weight which a given bulk of water sustains with every change of temperature ; so that when the specific gravity of any substance has been found with reference to water at any proposed tempera- ture, it may be reduced by a simple process of arithmetic to that which would have resulted, had it been compared, in the first in- stance, with water at the temperature corresponding to the state of greatest condensation. 344 COBB'S SPEAKER LESSON CXXXI. \700DMAN, SPARE THAT TREE! THE NEW MIRROR. 1. Woodman, Bpare thai tree ! Touch do1 a ringle bough ! In youth it sheltered ine, And I 'II protect it now. Twaa my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot ; There, woodman, lei it Btand, Thy aze ahall harm it not! 2. That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea, And wouldst thou hew it down ? Woodman, forbear thy stroke! Cut ii"t it- earth-bound ties ; Oh, spare that aged oak, Now tow din-- to the skies ! 3. When but an idle boy I Bought its grateful shade ; In all their gushing joy Here too my sisters played. My mother kissed me here; My father pressed my hand; Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand ! 4. My heart-strings round thee cling, Close as thy bark, old friend ! Here shall the wild-bird sing, And still thy branches bend. COBB'S SPEAKEE. 345 Old tree ! The storm still brave ! And, woodman, leave the spot ; While I 've a hand to save, Thy axe shall harm it not ! LESSON CXXXIL HOT SPRINGS OF ICELAND. HENDERSON. 1. At about four in the afternoon, we arrived at the Hot Springs, called the Geysers. At the distance of several miles, on turning around the foot of a high mountain on our left, we could descry from the clouds of vapor, that were rising and convolving in the atmosphere, the spot where one of the most magnificent and un- paralleled scenes in nature is displayed ; where, bursting the parted ground, Great Geyser, " hot, through scorching cliffs, is seen to rise, "With exhalations steaming to the skies !" 2. Electrified, as it were, by the sight, and feeling impatient to have our curiosity fully gratified, Mr. Hodgson and I rode on be- fore the cavalcade ; and, just as we got clear of the southeast corner of the low hill, at the side of which the springs are situated, we were saluted by an eruption which lasted several minutes, and during which the water appeared to be carried to a great height in the air. Riding on, between the springs and the hill, we fell in with a small green spot, where we left our horses, and proceeded, as if by an irresistible impulse, to the gently-sloping ground, from the surface of which numerous columns of steam were making their escape. 3. Though surrounded by a great multiplicity of boiling springs and steaming apertures, the magnitude and grandeur of which far exceeded any thing we had ever seen before, we felt at no loss 15* 846 CO Ji US SPEAK in determining on which of them to feast our wood bestow tli'- primary moment! of astonished contemplation. the northern extremity of the trad rose a large circular mound, formed by the d of the fountain, justly distinguished by th<- appellation of the Great Geyser, from th<- middle of which a degree of evaporation was risible. 4. Ascending the rampart, we had the spacious basin at our aore than half filled with the most beautiful hot crystalline . which was but just moved by a gentle ebullition, i by the escaj t' steam from a cj lindrical pipe or funnel in the i pipe I ascertained by admeasurement to I"- seventy- eight : pendicular depth : it- diameter is, in general, from :i feet ; but, near the mouth it gradually widens, and opens almost imperceptibly into the basin, the inside of which ex- hibits a whitish insisting of a nlicioua incrustation, which bai ba ii rendered almost perfectly smooth by the action of tin- boiling w i;. The diameter of the basin i> fifty-six feet in one direction, and foKy-eii in another; and, when full, it measurea about four n depth, from the surface of the water t" the <•"nnii.-nc.ni.Mit, of the pipe. The borders <>!' the basin which form the highest if iln- mound, are rery irregular, owing to tin- rarious eccre- tioni of ili>- deposited substances; and at two p small channels, equally polished with the interior <>t" tin- basin, tin which the water makes ha escape, when it bai been till«-.| to the in. 7. 'Ili- declivity of the mound i- rapid, at first, especially on the northwest -i.!.-, hut instant!) begins to dope more gradually ; and the d are spread all around to different distances, the of which is near a hundred feet The whole of this surface, tli.- two small chambers excepted, displays a beautiful silicious efflorescence, rising in small granular clusters, which bear the striking resemblance to the heads of cauliflowers, and, while are of so extremely delicate a contexture, that it is hardly possible to remove them in a perfect Btate. 8. They are of a brownish color, but in some places app roa ch - COBB'S SPEAKER. 347 ing to a yellow. On leaving the mound, the hot water passes through a kind of turfy soil ; and, by acting on the peat, mosses, and grass, converts them entirely into stone, and furnishes the curious traveller with some of the finest specimens of petrifaction. 9. Having stood some time in silent admiration of the masr- nificent spectacle which this matchless fountain, even in a state of inactivity, presents to the view, as there were no indications of an immediate eruption, we returned to the spot where we had left our horses ; and, as it formed a small eminence at the base of the hill, and commanded a view of the whole tract, we fixed on it as the site of our tents. About thirty-eight minutes past five, we were apprized, by low reports, and a slight concussion of the ground, that an eruption was about to take place ; but only a few small jets were thrown up, and the water in the basin did not rise above the surface of the outlets. 10. Not being willing to miss the very first symptoms of the phenomenon, wo kept walking about in the vicinity of the spring, now survevino- some of the other cavities, and now collecting ele- gant specimens of petrified wood, leaves, &c, on the rising ground between the Geyser and the base of the hill. At fifteen minutes ight, we counted five or six reports, that shook the mound on which we stood, but no remarkable jet followed ; the water only boiled with great violence, and, by its heavings, caused a number of small waves to flow towards the margin of the basin, which, at the same time, received an addition to its contents. LESSON CXXXIII. HOT SPRINGS OF ICELAND. CONTINUED. 1. Twenty-five minutes past nine, as I returned from the neighboring hill, I heard reports, which were both louder and more numerous than any of the preceding, ami exactly resembled the distant discharge of a park of artillery. Concluding, from 348 COBB'S Sl'KAKKK. these circumstances, thai the long-expected wonders were about bo commence, I ran to the mound, which Bhook violently under my feet; and I had Bcarcely time to look into the basin, whan the fountain exploded, and instantly compelled me to retire to ■ re- Bpectable distance od the windward side. 2. The water rushed up ou1 of the pipe with amazing velocity, and was projected by irregular jets into the atmosphere, Burrounded by immense volumes of steam, which, in a greal measure, hid the column from the view. The first four or fivej ta were inconsider- able, not exceeding fifteen or twenty feel in height : these were followed by one about fifty feet, which was succeeded by two <-r three considerably lower; after which came the last, exceeding all the resl in splendor, which rose, at least, to the height of seventy feet 3. The large stones, which we had previously thrown into the pipe, were ejaculated to a great height, especially one, which was thrown much higher than the water. On the propulsion of the jets, they Lifted up the water in the basin, nearest the orifice of the pipe to the height of a foot, or a foot and a half; and, on the falling of the c ilumn, it aot only caused the basin to overflow at the usual channels, but forced the water over the highest part of the brim, behind which I was standing. 4. The great body of the column, at least ten feet in diameter, rose perpendicularly, but was divided into a number of the most superb curvated ramifications; and several smaller sproutings were severed from it, and projected in oblique directions, to the no small danger of the spectator, who is apt to get scalded, ere he is aware, by the falling jet. 5. On the cessation of the eruption, the water instantly sunk into the pipe, but rose again immediately, to about half a foot above the orifice, where it remained stationary. All being again in a state of tranquillity, and the clouds of steam having left the basin, I entered it, and proceeded within reach of the water, which I found to be 183° of Fahrenheit, a temperature of more than twenty degrees less than at any period while the basin was filling, and occasioned, I suppose, by the cooling of the water during its projection into the air. COBB'S SPEAKEB. 349 6. The whole scene was indescribably astonishing; but, what interested us most, was the circumstance, that the strongest jet came last, as if the Geyser had summoned all her powers, in order to show us the greatness of her energy, and make a grand finish before retiring into the subterraneous chambers, in which she is concealed from mortal view. Our curiosity had been gratified, but it was far from being satisfied. We now wished to have it in our power to inspect the mechanism of this mighty engine, and obtain a view of the springs by which it is put in motion : but the wish was vain, for they lie in " a tract which, no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture's eye hath not seen ;" which man, with all his boasted power, can not, and dare not, approach. V. On the morning of the 29th, I was awakened by Captain Von Sckeel, at twenty-three minutes past five o'clock, to contem- plate an eruption of the spring, which Sir John Stanley denomi- nates the New Geyser, situated at the distance of a hundred and forty yards to the south of the principal fountain. It is scarcely possible, however, to give any idea of the brilliancy and grandeur of the scene which caught my eye, on drawing aside the curtain of my tent. 8. From an orifice, nine feet in diameter, which lay directly before me, 'at the distance of about a hundred yards, a column of water, accompanied with prodigious volumes of steam, was erupted, with inconceivable force and a tremendously roaring noise, to varied heights, of from fifty to eighty feet, and threatened to darken the horizon, though brightly illumined by the morning sun. 9. During the first quarter of an hour, I found it impossible to move from my knees, on which I had raised myself, but poured out my soul in solemn adoration of the Almighty Author of Nature, to whose control all her secret movements and terrifying operations are subject ; " who looketh on the earth, and it trem- bleth ; who toucheth the hills, and they smoke." 10. At length, I repaired to the fountain, where we all met, and communicated to each other our mutual and enraptured feelings of wonder and admiration. The jets of water now subsided ; but, 350 COBB'S SPEAKER their place was occupied by the spray and steam, which, having oom to play, rushed, with a deafening roar, to a height little inferior to that of the water. 11. On throwing the largest stones we could find into tin- pipe, they were instantly propelled to an amazing height ; and ioum of them, that were cast op more perpendicularly than the oth< mained, for the Bpace of four or five minutes, within the influence of the iteam, being successively ejected, and falling again in a rery amusing manner. A gentle oortherD breeze carried part of the spray at tin- t<»p .if th.- pillar t.> the one side, when it fell lik-- a drizzling rain, and was -<> cold that we could stand below it, and rea i\<- it on our hands or face without the least inconvenience. L2. While 1 kept my Btation on tin- same Bide with the ran, a moel brilliant circular bow, of a large size, appeared on the oppo- site side of the fountain ; and, on changing Bides, having the fountain between me and the sun, I discovered another, if possi- ble, still more beautiful, hut so small a- only to encircle my head. Their hues entirely resembled those of the common rainbow. 13. After continuing to roar about half an hour longer, the column of spray visibly diminished, and >unk gradually, till twenty- six minutes past -i\, when it fell to tip- same Btate in which we had observed it the preceding day, the water boiling at the depth of about twenty feet below the orifice of the shaft. LESSON CXXXIV. INVASION OF SWITZERLAND BY THE FRENCH. SYDNEY SMITH. 1. The vengeance which the French took upon the Swiss, for their determined opposition to the invasion of their country, wa>> decisive and terrible. The history of Europe can afford no parallel to such cruelty. To the dark ages, and the most barbarous nations of the east, we must turn for similar scenes of horror, and, perhaps, must turn in vain. The soldiers, dispersed over the country, car- COBB'S SPEAKER. 351 ried fire, and sword, and robbery, into the most tranquil and hid- den valleys of Switzerland. 2. From the depth of sweet retreats, echoed the shrieks of mur- dered men, stabbed in their humble dwellings, under the shadow of the high mountains, in the midst of those scenes of nature which make solemn and pure the secret thoughts of man, and appall him with the majesty of God. The flying peasants saw, in the midst of the night, their cottages, their implements of husbandry, and the hopes of the future year, expiring in one cruel conflagration. The men were shot upon the slightest provocation ; innumerable women, after being exposed to the most atrocious indignities, were murdered, and their bodies thrown into the woods. 3. In some instances, this conduct was resented; and, for symp- toms of such an honorable spirit, the beautiful town of Altdorf was burnt to the ground, and not a single house left to show w 7 here it had stood. The town of Stanz, a town peculiarly dear to the Swiss, as it gave birth to one of the founders of their liberty, was reduced to a heap of cinders. In this town, in the fourteenth century, a Swiss general surprised and took prisoner the Austrian commander, who had murdered his father ; yet he forgave and re- leased him, upon the simple condition that he would not again serve against the Swiss Cantons. 4.- When the French got possession of this place, they burnt it to ashes, not in a barbarous age, but now, yesterday, in an age we call philosophical ; they burnt it, because the inhabitants had en- deavored to preserve their liberty. The Swiss was a simple peas- ant ; the French, a mighty people, combined for the regeneration of Europe. Oh, Europe, what dost thou owe to this mighty people ? Dead bodies, ruinous heaps, broken hearts, waste places, childless mothers, widows, orphans, tears, endless confusion, and unutterable wo. 5. For this mighty nation, we have suffered seven years of un- exampled wretchedness, a long period of discord, jealousy, priva- tion, and horror, which every reflecting man would almost wish blotted out of his existence. By this mighty people, the Swiss have lost their country ; that country which they loved so well, that 352 COBB'S SPEAKEK. if they heard but the simple song of their childhood, tens fell down every manly face, and the most intrepid soldiers Bobbed with grie£ G. What then? Is .-til this done with impunity 1 Are the thunders of God dumb) Are there do lightnings in hi> right hand? Pause a tittle, before you decide on the ways of Provi- dence; tarry, and see what will come to pass. There is a solemn and awful courage in the human heart, placed there by (Sod him- self, to guard man against the tyranny of his fellows, and while this lives, the world is safe. 7. There slumbers even now. perchance, upon the mountains of Switzerland, Borne youthful peasant, unconscious of the soul he bears, that shall lead down these bold people from their rocks, to sucb deeds of courage as they have heard with their ears, and their fathers have declared unto them ; to such as were done in their days, and in the old times before them, by those magnanimous rustics, who first taught foolish ambition to respect the wisdom and the spirit of simple men, righteously and honestly striving for every human blessing. 8. Let me go on a little farther in this dreadful enumeration. More than thirty villages were Backed in the canton of Berne alone ; not only was all the produce of the present year destroyed, but all tin- cattle unfit tor human food were slaughtered, and the agricultural implements burnt; and thus the certainty of famine was entailed upon them for the ensuing year. At the end of all this military execution, civil exactions, still more cruel and oppres- sive, were begun ; and, under the forms of government and law, the most unprincipled men gave loose to their avarice and rapa- city, till Switzerland has sunk at last under the complication of her misfortunes, reduced to the lowest ebb of misery and despair. COBB'S SPEAKER. 353 LESSON CXXXV. A TURKISH BATH. FROM A MONTH AT CONSTANTINOPLE. ALBERT SMITH, 1. The second day I was at Constantinople I had a bath, in the proper Turkish fashion ; and this was quite as novel in its way as every thing else had been. The establishment patronised was the head one in Staniboul ; and we went from the street into a very large hall, entirely of marble, with a gallery around the walls, in which were couches, as well as down below. On these, different visiters were reposing ; some ' covered up and lying quite still, others smoking narghiles, and drinking coffee. Towels and cloths were drying on lines, and in the corner was a little shed, serving as a Cafe. 2. We went up stairs and undressed, giving our watches and money to the attendant, who tied our clothes up in a bundle. He then tucked a colored wrapper round our waists, and threw a towel over our shoulders, after which we walked down stairs, and put on some wooden clogs at the door of the next apartment. The first thing these did was to send me heels over head, to the great discomfiture of my temporary costume, and equal delight of the bathers there assembled. 3. We remained in this room, which was of an increased tem- perature, idling upon other couches, until we were pronounced ready to go into the second chamber. I contrived, with great care and anxiety, to totter into it upon my clogs, and found another apartment of marble, very warm indeed, and lighted from the top by a dome of glass " bull's-eyes." In the middle of this chamber was a hot, raised octagon platform, also of marble, and in the re- cesses of the sides, were marble vases, and tanks, with taps for hot and cold water, and channels in the floor to carry off the suds. 4. Two savage, unearthly boys, their heads all shaved, with the exception of a tuft on the top, and in their scant costume of a towel only, looking more like wild Indians than Turks, now seized hold of me, and, forcing me back upon the hot marble floor, commenced 354 OOBB'8 si-KA K B& b dreadful series of tortures, such as I had only read of ae pertain- ing to the dark ages, Ii was of no use to resist They clutched hold of the back of my neck, and 1 thought they were going to strangle me : then they pulled at my arms and legs, and I thought again they were going to put me on the rack ; and lastly, when they began to roll backward and forward ou my chest, doubling cracking elbows underneath them, 1 thought, finally, that my last minute was come, and thai death by Buffocation would finish me. 5. Tiny- wen fiends, and evidently delighted in my agony; not allowing me to look to the right or left after my companions, and throwing themselves on me again, whenever they conceived I was to call the dragoman to mj assistance. I do not know that 1 ever ch a frightful five minut d with bathing, nervous as are some of the feelings which that pastii C. It is very terrible to take the first summer plunge into a deep, dark river, and when you are at the bottom, and the water is roaring in your ears, to think of dead bodies and crocodiles; it is almost worse to make thai frightful journey down a >u-r\> beach, in a bathing machine, with a vague incertitude a> to when will find yourself when the doors open again; but nothing come up to what I Buffered in my last extremity, in the Constan- tinople bath. 7. Thoughts of Turkish cruelty and the sacks of Boephorus; of home, and friends, and my childhood's bowers ; of the Badness of being murdered in a foreign bath; and tin- probability of my Giaour body being eaten by the wild dogs, crowded rapidly on me, as these demons increased their tortures ; until, collecting all my strength for one last effort, I contrived to throw them off, one to the right and the other to the left, some half dozen feet, and regain- ed my legs. 8. The worst was now over, certainly ; but the persecution still continued sufficiently exciting. They seized on me again, and led me to the tanks, where they almost flayed me with horsehair gloves, and drowned me with bowls of warm water, poured con- tinuously on my head. I could not see, and, if again I tried to cry out, they thrust a large soapy swab, made of the fibres that COBB'S SPEAKER. 355 grow at the foot of the date palm, into my mouth, accompanying- each renewed act of cruelty with a demand for baksheesh. At last, being fairly exhausted, themselves, they swathed me in a great many towels ; and I was then half carried, half pushed, up stairs again, where I took my place upon my couch with feelings of great joy and thankfulness. 9. I now began to think that all the horrors I had undergone were balanced by the delicious feeling of repose that stole over me. I felt that I could have stopped there for ever, with the fra- grant coffee steaming at my side, and the soothing bubble of the narghiles sounding in every direction. I went off into a day-dream ; my last clear vision being that of a man having his head shaved all but a top-knot, which was long enough to twist around and around, under his fez ; and could scarcely believe that an hour had elapsed, when the dragoman suggested our return to the bustling world without. LESSON CXXXVI. SUMMER EVENING. BRYANT. 1. The summer day has closed ; the sun is set : Well have they done their office, those bright hours, The latest of whose train goes softly out In the red west. The green blade of the ground Has risen, and herds have cropped it ; the young twig Has spread its plaited tissues to the sun ; Flowers of the garden and the waste have blown, And withered ; seeds .have fallen upon the soil From bursting cells, and, in their graves, await Their resurrection. 2. Insects from the pools Have filled the air awhile with humming wings, That now are still for ever ; painted moths Have wandered the blue sky, and died again ; 356 COBB'S STEAK KB. The mother-bird hath broken for her brood Their prison-shells, or Bhoved them from their in Plumed for their earliest flight 3. In brighl ak> In woodland cottages with earthy wall-, In Doisome cells of the tumultuous tuwn, Mothers have clasped with joy the new-born hah.-. Graves by the lonely forest, by the Bhore Of rivers and of ocean, by the ways Of th<* thronged city, have been hollowed out, Aihl filled, and (dosed. 4. This day hath parted friends, That ne'er before were parted; it hath knit New friendships; it hath Been the maiden plight Her faith, and trust her peace to him who long Hath wooed ; and it hath heard, from lips which late Were eloquent of love, the first harsh word, That told the wedded one her peace was flown. 5. Farewell to the sweet sunshine! one glad day Is added now to childhood's merry days, And one calm day to those of quiet S£ Still the fleet hours run on ; and, as I lean Amid the thickening darkness, lamps are lit By those who watch the dead, and those who twine Flowers for the bride. The mother from the eyes Of her sick infant shades the painful light, And sadly listens to his quick-drawn breath. COBB'S SPEAKER. 357 LESSON CXXXVIL AUTUMN. N. E. MAGAZINE. 1. Upon a leaf-strown walk, I wandered on amid the sparkling dews ; Where Autumn hangs, upon each frost-gemmed stalk Her gold and purple hues ; 2. Where the tall fox-gloves shake Their loose bells to the wind, and each sweet flower Bows down its perfumed blossoms, to partake The influence of the hour ; 3. Where the cloud shadows pass With noiseless speed by lonely lake and rill. Chasing each other o'er the low crisped grass And up the distant hill ; 4. Where the clear stream steals on Upon its silent path, as it were sad To find each downward-gazing flower has gone, That made it once so glad. 5 I number it in days, Since last I roamed through this secluded dell, Seeking a shelter from the summer rays, Where flowers and wild-birds dwell. 6. While, gemmed with pearl-drops bright, Green leaves and silken buds were dancing there, I moved my lips in murmurs of delight, "And blessed them, unaware." 7. How changed each sylvan scene ! Where is the warbling bird ? the sun's clear ray ? The waving brier-rose ? and foliage green, That canopied my way ? 358 COBB'S SPEAK Ell. 8. Where is the balmy breeze That fanned so late my brow ? the Bweel southwest, That, whispering manic bo the listening trees, My raptured spirit blessed ? 9. Where are the notes of Spring ? Xrt the brown bee stills hums his