40 Vft ^^^^^. .^ «f»'^ * o » o » if^ .^.SS^-. >^^^^^. ,^.^ '^.^^Z ,.^, ^^^^^. ■.' .^'-v V^^v' %/%r/' V^^'v-v" ^ V«0 y/ \;3«^:'^^/''V.'^f'V' X;^^' «" "^ ••<' <•* '^ «'■• •*." >5^ .' ^4°-- '. ;. '-^u-o^ •« ^oV" \ %/ <^ .' ./V -.^-V^'^ •«^^*' v^^'\ >V ..... 4- A* . " • . ^ O > THE NEW HAMPSHIRE BOOK. If l-(BaB]IiSJS ®W f HE II.I[ff SlEiiWIBmil GRANITE STATE For the strength of the hills we bless thee, Our God, our fathers' God ! Thou hast made thy children mighty, By the touch of the mountain sod. Thou hast fixed our ark of refuge Where the spoiler's foot ne'er trod ; For the strength of thy hills we bless thee, Our God, our fathers' God ! NASHVILLE T- ""^ PUBLISHED BY CHARLES T. GILL 1844. A* t^^^^^ .^-.A Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and forty one, by CHARLES J. FOX AJND SAMUEL OSGOOD, in the Clerk's Office of the Dist. Court for the Dist. of New-Hampshire. BOSTON. fRINTED BY S. N. DICKINSON, WASHINGTON STREST. TO THE SONS AND DAUGHTERS Nero i^ampsljire, AX HOME AiJD ABROAD, THESE SPECIMENS OF NATIVE LITERATURE ARE RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, BY THE EDITORS. PREFACE It is needless to make an apology for gathering into a volume these specimens of literature, that have no common tie except an origin in our own State. There is doubtless sufficient value in this selection to make it worthy the attention of the public, and sufficient State feel- ing among us to render it peculiarly interesting to the sons and daughters of New Hampshire. It is of course impossible in one small volume like this, to do jus- tice to the literature and talent of our State. New Hampshire has been called the Scotland of America, and her sons, like the Scotch, have visited every region, and left monuments of their enterprise and ability wherever they have gone. The literature of almost all the States in our Union must be thoroughly scrutinized, before we can do justice to our own State. Referring our readers to the list of authors contained in the present work, and to the various posts and professions which they adorn, we would present these merely as spec- imens of our literary wealth, without in the least pretending to give an idea of its whole extent. Many writers have been omitted, whose works we would gladly have noticed. It has not been always possi- ble to find the older and rarer works of our citizens ; and moreover it has been very difficult to represent some whole departments of litera- ture, for instance, the theological and legal. Many of our prominent clergymen have put forth no productions that might not be considered as too much of a denominational character ; and most of the learned arguments of our lawyers are far better adapted to persuade a jury or convince a judge than to give charm to a pleasant volume like this. Many able and distinguished men among us have published nothing, that has come to our knowledge ; and we have doubtless overlooked the claims of many young men of high talent, who have gone from us and settled in distant places, and the place of whose birth it is not easy to ascertain. In the diffi^rent colleges in the South and West, about forty natives of our State are employed as professors or presiding officers. We have tried to represent all classes, professions and interests fairly in our selections, and if we have erred in any respect, it has 1* been rather from ignorance or inadvertence than from any conscious partiahties. It has been our aim to give specimens of the writings only of natives of the State. In a very few cases we have departed from this rule in regard to individuals, who have lived so long among us, as to have become identified with the State. It will be observed, that a considerable proportion of the authors in our collection have not spent their lives in the State, but have sought their fortunes in other regions. But their writings may be considered as none the less native and characteristic ; for it is the land of one's birth and early breeding, that forms the character and de- velopes the powers. A sufficient reason for the departure of so many citizens from our State, maybe found in the want of those large cities, which alone are able to reward brilliant talents. This collection is by no means meagre in poetry. We are able to give a satisfactory answer to the query of a writer in the North Amer- ican Review some ten years ago, who marvelled that a State, so rich in beautiful and sublime scenery as our own, had given no con- siderable indication of poetic talent. We refer to our pages for satis- factory proof, that the Muses have dwelt among our mountains, lakes and rivers, and that not only in sturdy enterprise, but in other respects, New Hampshire is not unworthy of her name, — the Scotland of America. With these few suggestions, we present our work to the reader, asking for ourselves but the humble credit of compilation, and of course with no claim to the reputation of authorship. JVashua, Dec. 11, 1841. CONTENTS. EARLY SETTLERS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. N. A. HAVEN,. SONG OF THE PILGRIMS. THOMAS C* UPHAM, , JOHN LANGDON. JACOB B. MOORE, LA Fayette's return, philip carrigain, VINDICATION OF NEW ENGLAND. DANIEL WEBSTER, . . . OLD WINTER IS COMING. HUGH MOORE, THE SPARROW 's NEST. ROBERT DINSMOOR, 13 21- 22 26 28 33 34 THE BIBLE AS A HUMAN COMPOSITION. EDWARD PAYSON, 36 THE LIGHT OF HOME. MRS. SARAH J. HALE, • 44 THE ROYAL PENITENT. MISS SARAH PORTER, 4o AGRICULTURE AND COMMERCE. JOSEPH S. BUCKMINSTER, 47 TRIBUTE TO MY NATIVE STREAM. NATHANIEL H. CARTER, 52 MONADNOCK. WILLIAM B. O. PEABODY, 54 SOLEMN REVIEW OF WAR. NOAH WORCESTER, 56 THE LYRE. MILTON WARD, 60 SONG OF THE HUSBANDMAN. MRS. EUNICE T. DANIELS, 62 AUTUMN. NATHANIEL A. HAVEN, 64 SKETCH OF CHIEF JUSTICE RICHARDSON. JOEL PARKER, 65 HYMN OF PRAISE. CARLOS WILCOX, 69 MAUVAISE HONTE. OLIVER W. B. PEABODY, 71 THE MOUNTAINS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. ISAAC HILL, 72 FLATTERY. THOMAS G. FESSENDEN, 78 west's PICTURE OF THE INFANT SAMUEL. EPHRAIM PEABODY, . . 79- THE father's CHOICE. MRS. SARAH J. HALE 80 HOW THEY USED TO SPELL. WARREN BURTON, 82 HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS. NATHANIEL H. CARTER, 86 THE TRUE DIGNITY OF WOMAN. SAMUEL WORCESTER, 88 THE GRAVE OF PAYSON. WILLIAM B. TAPPAN, 91-- DUTIES OF AMERICAN CITIZENS. LEVI WOODBURY, 93 SONG OF THE ANGELS IN ' FAUST.' GEORGE W. HAVEN, 99 THE RIVER MERRIMAC. WILLIAM M. RICHARDSON, JOO DANGERS INCIDENT TO A REPUBLIC. WILLIAM S. BALCH, 102 THE DEATH OF AN INFANT. WILLIAM B. O. PEABODY,. 107 RECOLLECTIONS OF PETERBOROUGH. JAMES WILSON 109 Vlll CONTENTS. '.SONNETS. THOMAS C. UPHAM, , 114 THE STUDIES or AN ORATOR. SAMUEL G. BROWN, 115 -ROUSSEAU AND COWPER. CARLOS WILCOX, 120 THE CENTENNIAL OF PETERBOROUGH. JOHN H. MORISON, 122 -THE COURSE OF CULTURE. THOMAS G. FESSENDEN, 127 KNOWLEDGE OF EACH OTHER IN A FUTURE STATE. J. E. ABBOT,. 129 -PRAYER. NATHANIEL A. HAVEN, c 132 THE MILITIA OF THE REVOLUTION. HENRY HUBBARD, 133 -BOCHIM. MRS. ELIZA B. THORNTON, 140 MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL CULTURE. JESSE APPLETON, 141 -THE WHITE CLOVER. MISS SARAH SMITH, 146 A MELTING STORY. FROM THE ' PICAYUNE,' G. W. KENDALL,. . . 147 -THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. WILLIAM B. TAPPAN, 151 CHARACTER OF REV. DR. PARKER. SAMUEL E. COUES, 152 •^HE victor's crown. MRS. SARAH J. HALE, 155 NIGHT. FROM THE ' LAY PREACHER.' JOSEPH DENNIE, 156 'THE SUMACH TREE. MRS. ELIZA B. THORNTON, 159 THREE HOURS AT SAINT CLOUD. LEWIS CASS, 160 THE AUTUMN EVENING. WILLIAM B. O. PEABODY, 166 WOMAN AND CHRISTIANITY. JOSEPH S. BUCKMINSTER, ,... 167 THE eagle's SPEECH. HORATIO HALE, , 172 EARLY BAPTISTS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. EBENEZER E. CUMMINGS,. 174 -CASUAL COUNSEL. HORACE GREELEY, 178 THE MAIDEN AT CHURCH. BENJAMIN B. FRENCH, 180 THE HOMES OF NEW ENGLAND. ABIEL A. LIVERMORE, 181 -WATCH AND PRAY. JOHN G. ADAMS, 184 ^VIY grandmother's elm. MRS. MARY ANN SULLIVAN, 185 MORALS OF THE CURRENCY. NATHAN APPLETON, 186 DEATH OF MURRAY. MRS. L. J. B. CASE, 189 DEATH OF HA3IILT0N. PHILANDER CHASE, 190 FRANCONIA MOUNTAIN NOTCH. HARRY HIBBARD, 195 WASHINGTON. BENJAMIN ORR, = 199 • NAPOLEON AT MELUN. MRS. SUSAN R. A. BARNES, 201 FREEDOM AND PROGRESS. CHARLES G. ATHERTON,... 203 - CHOCORU a's CURSE. CHARLES J. FOX, 208 THE DEATH OF HARRISON. CHARLES B. IIADDUCK, 210 -ORDINATION HYMN. GEORGE KENT, 214 -RATHER HYPERBOLICAL. HORATIO HALE, 215 THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. EDWIN D. SANBORN, 216 -q-HE OLD man's LAST DREAM. BENJAMIN B. FRENCH, 220 -THE FRIEND OF AN HOUR. HARRIETTE V. M. FRENCPI, 222 THE m' LEAN ASYLUM FOR THE INSANE. LUTHER V. BELL, 223 .SPRING IN NEW ENGLAND. CARLOS WILCOX, 226 MYSTERY, REASON, FAITH. EPHRAIM PEABODY, 229 . THE ARMY OF THE CROSS. MRS. SUSAN R. A. BARNES,, , 232 CONTENTS. IX THE TREASURED HARP. JAMES T. FIELDS, .... , 234 LOVEWELL's FIGHT. JOHN FARMER, 235 -^HE OPIUM SHIPS. WILLIAM B. TAPPAN, 239 THE BURDOCK. MISS S. W. LIVERMORE, 240 THE PULPIT STAIRS OF RURUTU. WILLIAM LADD, 241 LINES. O. W. B. PEABODY, 245 PASSAGES IN THE HISTORY OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. SALMA HALE,.. 246 THE AMERICAN EAGLE. MRS. ELIZA B. THORNTON, 250 GOD IS LOYE. HOSEA BALLOU, 351 EDUCATION IN NEW HAMPSHIRE. NATHANIEL BOUTON, 252 THE MIRACLE. CHARLES J. FOX, 258- THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST. HOSEA BALLOU, 260 COMMERCE. JAMES T. FIELDS,. , 263 DUTIES OF AMERICAN MOTHERS. DANIEL WEBSTER, 265 THE FAREWELL. MRS. EUNICE T. DANIELS, 268 SECTARIANISM AND INFIDELITY. RALPH EMERSON, 270 THE DIVISION OF THE EARTH. GEORGE W. HAVEN, 274 RHYMES BY A NORTHMAN. B. B. FRENCH, 275 THE IDEAL OF A TRUE LIFE. HORACE GREELEY, 276 LINES FOR MY cousin's ALBUM. HORATIO HALE, 280 APHORISMS. JOSEPH BARTLETT, 281 THE FIRST SPRING FLOAVER. MRS. EUNICE T. DANIELS, 284 THOMAS ADDIS EMMET. CHARLES G. HAINES, 285 THE NOVICE. SAMUEL T. HILDRETH, 289 THE NATIONAL DEFENCES. FRANKLIN PIERCE, 291 THE TREASURES OF THE SEA. MRS. CAROLINE ORNE 394 THE GOOD WIFE. GEORGE W. BURNAP, 296 TO MY BIBLE. JOHN G. ADAMS, 300 THE FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. GEORGE SULLIVAN, 301 THE INDEPENDENT FARMER. THOMAS G. FESSENDEN, 304 SPRING IS COMING. HUGH MOORE, 305 - INSANITY AND CRIME. ICHABOD BARTLETT, 306 THE BACKWOODSMAN. EPHRAIM PEABODY, 309 agriculture: its dignity and importance. JOHN A. DIX, .... 311 FAME AND LOVE. SAMUEL T. HILDRETH, 315 I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY. OTIS A. SKINNER, 316 THE AUTUMN ROSE. MISS MARY S. PATTERSON, 319 THE TRUE PATRIOT. JEREMIAH SMITH, 320 SLEIGHING SONG. JAMES T. FIELDS, 324 THE AMERICAN EDUCATION SOCIETY. WILLIAM COGSWELL, 325 THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. A SCHOOL GIRL, 328 " THE WATER OF LIFE. W B. O. PEABODY, 329 LEONORE d'eSTE. MRS. L. J. B. CASE, 334 CHARACTER OF REV. JOSEPH EMERSON. CALEB J. TENNEY, 336 HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. MRS. EUNICE T. DANIELS, 338 X CONTENTS. THE FOUNDERS OF OUR GOVERNMENT. WILLIAM M. RICHARDSON, 339 " WE 'lL meet again." SAMUEL T. HILDRETH, 343" ENERGY OF THE WILL THOMAS C. UPHA.M, ,... 344 BATTLE OF LUNDy'S LANE. CALEB STARK, 347 CUSTOMS OF OUR FATHERS. ARIEL ABBOT, 349 ANDRE. CHARLES W. UPHAM, 352 TEMPERANCE AND HEALTH. REUBEN D. MUSSEY, 354 THE skater's SONG. EPHRAIM PEABODY, 358 the aborigines of new england. jeremy belknap, 361 Jacob's funeral, charles w. upham, 365 importance of moral science. william d. wilson, 366 " do they love there still ? " mrs. mary r. pratt, 369 - burns and cowper. o. w. b. peabody, 370 harvest hymn. mrs. eunice t. daniels, 377 the duty of the judiciary. jeremiah mason, 378 our mountain homes. mrs. s. r. a. barnes, , 381 vindication of new hampshire. george barstow; 383 NOTES, , 388 THE NE¥-HAMPSHffiE BOOK, THE NEW-HAMPSHIEE EOOK. THE FIRST SETTLERS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. FROM AN ORATION DELIVERED AT PORTSMOUTH, MAY 21, IS'JS, ON THE SECOND CENl'ENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF ITS SETTLEMENT. "BY NATHANIEL APPLETON HAVEN. [Born at Portsmouth, Jan. 14, 1790. Died at Portsmouth, June 3, 1826.] Two hundred years ago, the place on which we stand was an uncultivated forest. The rough and vigorous soil was still covered with the stately trees, which had been, for ages, intermingling their branches and deepening the shade. The river, which now bears on its bright and pure waters the treasures of distant climates, and whose rapid current is stemmed and vexed by the arts and enterprise of man, then only rippled against the rocks, and reflected back the wild and grotesque thickets which overhung its banks. The mountain which now swells on our left, and raises its verdant side " shade above shade," was then almost con- cealed by the lofty growth which covered the intervening plains. Behind us, a deep morass, extending across to the northern creek, almost enclosed the little " Bank," which is now the seat of so much life and industry. It was then a wild and tangled thicket, interspersed with venerable trees and moss-grown rocks, and presenting, here and there, a sunny space covered with the blossoms and early fruit of the little plant that gave it its name. This " Bank," so 2 14 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. wild and rude, two hundred years ago was first impressed with the step of civilized man. The influence of local association is strong and universal. There is no one who has not felt it ; and if it were possible, it would be useless to withdraw the mind from its effects. We owe many of our deepest emotions, our 'highest and most ennobling feelings, to the suggestions of external na- ture. The place which has been distinguished by the residence of one whom we love and admire, kindles in our minds a thousand conceptions, which we can scarcely ana- lyze or describe. The moral beauty of character and sen- timent is insensibly blended with the beauty of natural scenery ; memory and fancy, alike excited, pass from one object to another, and form combinations of beauty and grandeur, softened and shaded by time and distance, but having enough of life and freshness to awaken our feelings and hold undisputed dominion of our hearts. Here, then, let us indulge our emotions. On this spot our forefathers trod. Here their energy and perseverance, their calm self- possession and practical vigor, were first called into action. Here they met and overcame difficulties, which would have overpowered the imagination or subdued the fortitude of ordinary men. All that we see around us are memorials of their worth. It was their enterprise that opened a path for us over the waters. It was their energy that subdued the forest. They founded our institutions. They commu- nicated to us our love of freedom. They gave us the im- pulse that made us what we are. It cannot then be useless to live along the generations that have passed, and endeavor to identify ourselves with those who have gone before us. W7io and what were they, who thus fill our imaginations, and as they rise before us, bring to our minds so many recollections of high sentiment, and steady fortitude, and sober enthusiasm ? In what school were they formed ? and what favorable circumstances impressed upon them that character of enduring energy, which even their present de- scendants may claim as their best inheritance? The an- FIRST SETTLERS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 15 swer to these questions is the subject to which your atten- tion will be directed. The character of individuals is always influenced, in a greater or less degree, by that of the nation in which they live. Sometimes indeed a great genius appears, who seems not to belong either to his age or country ; as a sunny day in winter will sometimes swell the buds and call forth the early flowers, as if it belonged to a milder season or happier climate. But in general, to form an accurate opinion of the character of an individual, it becomes necessary to es- timate that of his nation at the time in which he lived. Our ancestors were Englishmen ; were Merchant-adven- turers ; were Puritans. The elements of their character are therefore to be found in the national character of Eng- land, modified in the individuals by the pursuits of com- merce, and the profession of an austere but ennobling form of religion. Such were the men from whom we derive our origin ; and such were the circumstances which impressed upon them that peculiar character, which it is hoped the lapse of two centuries has not yet obliterated. We may justly be proud of such a descent ; for no ancestry in the world is half so illustrious, as the Puritan founders of New England. It is not merely that they w^ere good men, and religious men, exhibiting in their lives an example of purity and temperance and active virtue, such as no other community in the world could present ; but they possessed the dazzling qualities of human greatness. Do we love to dwell upon scenes of romantic adventure? Does our imagination kin- dle at the thought of distant enterprise, among a strange people, exposed to constant and unusual peril ? Do we turn with delight to those bold and heroic achievements which call forth the energy of our nature, and by that deep excitement which belongs to the hopes and hazards of war, awaken us to a new consciousness of existence ? All this is found in the history of our ancestors. They were heroes as well as pilgrims, and nothing is wanting but the pen of 16 THE NEW -HA MPS HIRE BOOK. genius to make their prowess and adventures the theme of a world's admiration. But here was the scene of their earthly toils. This spot was consecrated by their labors and sufferings. Perhaps their spirits still linger among us. Perhaps they are here, conscious beings ministering to our progress, and rejoicing in our gladness. Could they now be made visible to mor- tal eye, and stand among us ; engaged with us in reviewing the past, and tracing along the progress of time and events to the present hour, how would they describe our present condition and character ? With what wonder would they speak of the progress of improvement ! Even those mer- chant-adventurers, who two hundred years ago came from London, just then beginning to assume its rank as the com- mercial capital of the world, would speak with surprise and delight of those glorious monuments of human art — those lofty ships, which almost every breeze wafts to our river ; but to what admiration would their feelings be exalted in viewing those stupendous vessels, which are designed to carry our nation's strength to the remotest seas, and which impress England herself, in the pride of her naval glory, with respect for our power and skill ! If they passed up the river to the fertile spot which Plilton and Waldron se- lected for their settlement, and inquired if the descendants of those West-Country adventurers retained the knowledge of arts and manufactures which their ancestors must have learned in England, could their astonishment be expressed in witnessing the triumph of human ingenuity and the won- ders of mechanical skill, which would there be shown them? When they cast their eyes over the country which, even at their deaths, they left rough and unsubdued, scarcely yield- ing to them a scanty subsistence, and beheld the picture of human comfort and human happiness which it every where presents, would they confess that their brightest anticipa- tions of the fortune of -their descendants exceeded the reali- ty ? But they would inquire of our character, of our moral and intellectual improvement. They would ask if our prog- FIRST SETTLERS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 17 ress had been equal to our advantages ? And here, though we might dwell with just pride upon many circumstances in our character as a people, there are others which we should wish, if possible, to conceal from their view. We could speak with confidence of the liberality of our institutions, of our freedom from the superstitions and prejudices of former ages. We could in enterprise, and hardihood, and manli- ness of spirit, claim to be the equals of our fathers. We could point to our public schools, as a noble monument of public spirit and liberality. We could present our college and our numerous academies to their scrutiny, and fearless- ly challenge their approbation. We could produce exam- ples of literary and professional exertion, which would prove that we had not faltered in intellectual improvement, behind the progress of the age. But if they questioned us of our puritan habits, of our temperance, of our zeal to avail our- selves of the advantages of education, we should be obliged reluctantly to confess that our virtues had not equalled the virtues of our fathers. Yet with all her faults — and I would neither extenuate nor deny them — we may rejoice that we are natives of New Hampshire. I would not yield precedence for my native State, in all that constitutes the worth of political as- sociations, to the proudest realm that ever advanced its pre- tensions in the great community of nations. Nay more : I would not yield precedence for New Hampshire, in en- terprise and manly virtue, in love of liberty, in talents, in the wisdom and liberality of her institutions, in every thino- that constitutes the peculiar excellence of the American character, to the most exalted of her sister states. Let me not be thought arrogant in assuming firmly this o-round. While we yield precedence to none, we claim it from none. The very character of our soil and climate must make our people hardy, athletic, and brave. It is a country of labor • of constant, unceasing exertion. The bounties of nature are indeed scattered around us with a liberal hand ; but they are offered only to labor Hence the very necessities 2* 18 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. of our situation impress us with a character of mental en- ergy. From the first occupation of the country to the pres- ent time, we have had an unbroken succession of resolute and undaunted men, devoted to their country, proud of their privileges, and zealous in their defence. The zeal which animated Pickering, Waldron, and Vaughan, in their con- tests with Mason, continued long after to glow in the hearts of Weare, Bartlett, Langdon, and Oilman, when exerted in a nobler cause. The chivalrous spirit and martial gallantry which made Lovewell and Bickford so formidable to the Indians, burned with new vigor in Cilley, M'Clary, and Scammel ; in Reid and Poor ; in Sullivan and Stark. The devotion to the interests of the Province, which distinguish- ed Wentworth and Sherburne, Penhallow and Rindge, has been found in thousands of others, who, like them, were ready to devote their time and labor to the service of the State. In the pursuits of science and professional skill, New Hampshire has at least kept on the level of the age. We still hear of the classical erudition of Parker, the judi- cial knowledge of Pickering, the finished eloquence of West. Jackson, and Bracket, and Cutter were fiimiliar with the whole of medical science, as it existed in their times ; and in the pulpit a long line of pious and learned and eloquent men, from Moody to Buckminster, have at once enforced the doctrines and illustrated the spirit of Christianity. The venerated name which I have last pronounced can scarcely be uttered from this place without exciting deep emotion ; and it is connected with another, that at once calls to our remembrance all that is delicate and refined in taste, that is graceful and engaging in manners, that is generous and ele- vated in sentiment. When we have named him, we have no apprehensions for our literary fame. If it were still necessary to assert our just claims to dis- tinction, we could point to living examples of merit, which would at once produce conviction. The sons of New Hamp- shire are scattered through every state of the Union. They are found in the judicial tribunals, the literary institutions, FIRST SETTLERS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 19 the halls of legislation, the military and naval establishments of our country ; and in all these various situations, we can safely hold them up to public view, and with honest pride claim them for our own. I have already alluded to the force of local association ; and I would again advert to it in considering the ties which ought to bind us to our native land. Other countries may possess a richer soil and a gentler sky ; but where shall we find the rude magnificence of nature so blended with scenes of enchanting beauty, as among our mountains and lakes? Believe me, it is because our country is yet unexplored, that her scenes of beauty and grandeur, her bright waters and swelling hills, her rich pasturage of living green, mingled with fresh flowers, and skirted with deep and shady forests ; her fields teeming with life and vegetation ; her mountains rising into the dark blue sky, and blending their summits with the purple clouds ; her streams rushing from the hill side, and hastening to mingle with the sea, or lingerino- in the solitude of her valleys, and sparkling in the glorious sunshine ; — it is because these are unexplored, that they are unsung. The time is not far distant, when the poet will kindle into rapture, and the painter glow with emotion, in delineating our romantic scenery. But it is our moral associations that must bind us forever to the land of our fathers. It is a land of equal rights ; its soil is not polluted by a slave. It is a land of religious free- dom ; no hierarchy can here exalt its head, no pontiff can hurl his thunders over a trembling and prostrate multitude. It is a land of industry and toil ; affording in this a constant pledge of the manly virtues. It is a land of knowledge and progressive improvement. In no part of the world is so liberal a provision made by law for public instruction. It is a land whose inhabitants have already fulfilled the high duties to which they have been called. Other nations have gathered more laurels in the field of blood ; other nations have twined more garlands and sung louder praise for their poets and orators and philosophers ; but where has romantic 20 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. courage and adventurous skill been more strikingly exhibit- ed ? Where has practical wisdom been better displayed ? In the hour of danger, her sons have been foremost in the battle. In every contest for the rights of mankind, her voice has always been raised on the side of freedom. And now that she stands possessed of every thing which civil and political liberty can bestow, she is vigilant and jealous for the preservation of her rights, and is among the first to resist encroachment. But we are connected with the future, as well as with the past. We are but a link in the vast chain of being, which is to bind our remotest desceiKiants with our earliest ances- tors ; and it is one of the advantages of a celebration like this, that it reminds us of our duties, as well as our privi- leges. A new century is opening upon us, which none of us will live to complete. Our children are about to take our places. When another century has passed away, the events of this day will be the subject of historical research. Our character and conduct will then be examined. It will be asked, what ive did to perpetuate the blessings we receiv- ed ; what exertions ive made to enlighten and purify and bless mankind ; what measures loe devised to secure at once the rights of the people, and the stability and dignity of the government ; what zeal loe displayed for our religious insti- tutions ; what sacrifices ice made in the cause of human virtue and human happiness. We are living, even the hum- blest of us, not for ourselves only ; but for society, for pos- terity, for the human race. Whatever we can do for our- selves, or for them, becomes at once our imperious duty to do. There is no escape from the obligation. There should be no delay in the performance — no hesitation. These questions will be asked. The answer is yet in our own power. SONG OF THE PILGRIMS. WRITTEN FOR THE SECOND CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION AT DOVER, 1823. BY THOMAS C. UPHAM. The breeze has swelled the whitening sail, The blue waves curl beneath the gale, And, bounding with the wave and wind. We leave Old England's shores behind : Leave behind our native shore, Homes, and all we loved before. The deep may dash, the winds may blow, The storm spread out its wings of wo. Till sailors' eyes can see a shroud Hung in the folds of every cloud } Still, as long as life shall last. From that shore we '11 speed us fast. For we would rather never be. Than dwell where mind cannot be free, But bows beneath a despot's rod. Even where it seeks to worship God. Blasts of heaven, onward sweep ! Bear us o'er the troubled deep ! O see what wonders meet our eyes ! Another land, and other skies ! Columbian hills have met our view ! Adieu ! Old England's shores, adieu ! Here at length our feet shall rest. Hearts be free, and homes be blest. As long as yonder firs shall spread Their green arms o'er the mountain's head As long as yonder cliffs shall stand. Where join the ocean and the land. Shall those cliffs and mountains be Proud retreats for liberty. Now to the King of kings we '11 raise The pcean loud of sacred praise ; More loud than sounds the swelling breeze. More loud than speak the rolling seas ! Happier lands have met our view ! England's shores, adieu ! adieu ! SKETCH OF JOHN LANGDON. BY JACOB B. MOORE. The circumstances attending the early settlement of Massachusetts and New Hampshire, though generally sup- posed to be similar, were in some respects widely different. The planters of the old Bay State left their native country, for the sake of enjoying here a degree of freedom in religion, of which they were deprived in the land of their fathers. The settlers of Piscataqua were actuated by a very differ- ent purpose. The pursuit of gain was uppermost in their thoughts, and they embarked at once in the fisheries and trade, which they followed with success, until many of the first settlers became men of opulence in the new country. The great importance of the fisheries seems not to have escaped the attention of Captain Smith, the discoverer of New Hampshire ; for in his account of New England he thus addresses his countrymen : " Therefore, honorable and worthy countrymen, let not the meanness of the word fish distaste you, for it will afford you as good gold as the mines of Potosi and Guiana, with less hazard and change, and more certainty and facility." A reverend divine, in 1690, was preaching in Portsmouth, on the depravity of the times, and said : " You have for- saken the pious habits of your forefathers, who left the ease and comfort which they possessed in their native land, and came to this howling wilderness, to enjoy, without molesta- tion, the exercise of their pure principles of religion." One of the congregation immediately rose, and interrupted him thus : " Sir, you entirely mistake the matter ; our ancestors SKETCH OF JOHN LANGDON. 23 did not come here on account of their religion, hut to fish and tracle.'^ A better illustration of the pursuits of the early settlers of New Hampshire, perhaps, it would be diffi- cult to give. The people of Portsmouth, wealthy and en- terprising as they are, have followed the advice of Captain Smith, and have never suffered " the word fish to distaste them," but have made it indeed " a mine of gold " to that ancient and flourishing town. Among the citizens of New Hampshire, educated as mer- chants, who have risen to public distinction, no one, per- haps, occupied a wider space than John Langdon of Ports- mouth. He was born in 1740, and received his early edu- cation in the celebrated grammar school of Major Samuel Hale. The father of young Langdon, who was a thrifty farmer, intended his son should engage in the same occupa- tion ; but the latter, looking upon commerce as the grand highway to wealth, set his heart upon becoming a merchant, and accordingly made the necessary preparations to enter a counting-house. One of the most extensive and successful mercantile houses at that time in Portsmouth, was that of Daniel Rindge, a counsellor under the provincial government, and to him young Langdon made application, and was admitted to his counting-house, and soon became thoroughly versed in commercial transactions. After completing his appren- ticeship with Rindge, he made several successful and very profitable trading voyages, with the view of ultimately estab- lishing a commercial house of his own, in his native town. But the dark clouds that preceded the Revolution began to skirt the horizon, and his mind was suddenly turned in a new direction. Naturally of a bold and fearless disposition, he entered at once into the feeling of the colonists ; and, possessing in a remarkable degree the power to win over multitudes, he became the acknowledged leader of the " sons of liberty " in that little Province, as much so as Samuel Adams and John Hancock in Massachusetts. Langdon was a leader exactly suited to the crisis. He took a conspicuous and active part in the struggle, and soon 24 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. became obnoxious to the government and many of the loyal citizens, who feared the total annihilation of their trade, and looked upon disloyalty as a crime of the deepest dye. In the fall of 1774, after it had become apparent that the crisis must come, Langdon gathered around him a band of choice spirits, and together they proceeded in silence to the king's fort at New Castle, seized upon all the powder and military stores, and removed their booty to a place of concealment, whence it could be called into use in case of emergency. This bold act produced at once an intense excitement. Gov. Wentworth stormed, and issued proclamations, but not a voice uttered or a thought whispered the secret. This was in December, four months before the battle of Lexington. In the spring of the year 1775, John Langdon was cho- sen a deleo-ate to Confrress, and attended the session which commenced in May, at Philadelphia. In January, 1776, he was re-appointed a delegate, but was not present on the adoption of the Declaration of Independence. He com- manded a company of cadets soon after the commencement of the war ; and at the time of the surrender of the British army under Burgoyne, he was a volunteer at Bennington. He was also at Rhode Island with a detachment of his company, at the time the British troops had possession of the island, and when General Sullivan brought off the American troops. No man had a higher popularity with the people, at this time, than John Langdon. He was elected repeatedly to the legislature, and was for several years Speaker of the Assembly. When the news of the fall of Ticonderoga reached New Hampshire, the provincial legislature was in session at Exeter. It was at a period when the resources of the patriots were almost exhausted, the public credit was gone, and the members of the Assembly were disheartened. The men of New Hampshire had already exerted themselves to the utmost for the good of the cause. John Langdon was Speaker of the Assembly at the time. He rose in his place, on the morning after the intelligence was received, SKETCH OF JOHN LANGDON. 25 and addressed the house to the following effect : " My friends and fellow-citizens : I have three thousand dollars in hard money; I will pledge my plate for three thousand more. I have seventy hogsheads of Tobago rum, which shall be sold for the most it will bring. These are at the service of the State. If we succeed in defending our fire- sides and homes, I may be remunerated ; if we do not, the property will be of no value to me." This noble proposal infused new life into the Assembly ; and in the course of a few days, by means of the funds advanced by John Langdon, a brigade was assembled, and on its march to the frontiers, and to victory, under the gal- lant Stark. During the whole of the revolutionary strug- gle, Langdon was ever active and constant in his labors for the good cause. A man of the people, in the emphatic sense of the term, he was always popular with the great mass, whose interests he made it a point to sustain on all occasions. Possessing a handsome address, and being open, obliging, and generous in his general conduct, he was cal- culated to gain the public esteem, and was among the few who were fortunate enough to retain it through life. He was honored with the highest offices the people could bestow. He was twice President of the State, under its first constitution ; was a member of the convention which formed the federal constitution ; was twelve years Senator in Congress, and subsequently, for six years Governor of the State. In 1811, he retired from public life, although urgently pressed to accept the Vice-Presidency, an office to which he might have been elected, had he not preferred the quiet and repose of private life. In the enjoyment of domestic relations, in his family, and a wide circle of friends, he chose to pass the evening of his days remote from the cares and bustle of public life. He was religious, without being obnoxious to the charge of bigotry; and was liberal of his ample means, for charitable and benev- olent purposes. He died at Portsmouth, in September, 1819, universally lamented by a people, in whose service he had spent the greater portion of his active life. 3 LA FAYETTE'S RETURN, BY PHILIP CARRIGAIN. North and South, and East and West, A cordial welcome have addressed, Loud and warm, the Nation's Guest, Dear son of Liberty ; Whom tyrants cursed, when Heaven approved, And millions long have mourned and loved, He comes, by fond entreaties moved. The Granite State to see. Our mountains tower with matchless pride, And mighty torrents from them glide. And wintry tempests, far and wide, Ridge deep our drifts of snow ; Yet does our hardening climate form Patriots with hearts as bold and warm. At social feast, or battle storm, As e'er met friend or foe. Bliss domestic, rank, wealth, ease, Our guest resigned for stormy seas, And for war's more stormy breeze, To make our country free ; And potent Britain saw, dismayed, The lightning of his virgin blade To Freedom flash triumphant aid. But death to Tyranny. Now, in his life's less perilous wane, He has re-crossed the Atlantic main. Preserved by Heaven, to greet again The land he bled to save, And those who with him, hand in hand, Fought 'neath his mighty sii-e's command, — Alas ! how thinned that gallant band, Band of the free and brave ! Angels, 't is said, at times have stood Unseen among the great and good, For country's rights who shed their blood. Nor has their influence ceased j LA Fayette's RETURN. 27 For party feuds far off are driven. Foes reconciled, and wrongs forgiven, And this green spot of earth made Heaven, For these old heroes' feast. They 've met in war, to toil and bleed, They 've met in peace, their country freed; And unborn millions will succeed To their dower, the Rlglits of Man ; The Patiiot of both hemispheres, Though first on earth, deems all his peers, Who joined his war-cry with their cheers, Where raged the battle's van. Such v/ere the vien our land did save, Nor e'er can reach oblivion's wave, (Though booming o'er the statesman's grave,) Our deep, redeemless debt. No ! Merrimack may cease to flow, And our White Mountains sink below; But nought can cancel what we owe To them and La Fayette, VINDICATION OF NEW ENGLAND. FROM A SPEECH IN REPLY TO IMR. HAYNE OF SOUTH CxVROLINA. BY DANIEL WEBSTER. The eulogium pronounced on the character of the State of South Carolina, for her revokitionary and other merits, meets my hearty concurrence. I shall not acknowledge that any man goes before me in regard for whatever of dis- tinguished talent, or distinguished character, South Carolina has produced. I claim part of the honor, I partake in the pride of her great names. I claim them for countrymen, one and all. The Lawrences, the Rutledges, the Pinck- neys, the Sumpters, the Marions — Americans all — whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by state lines, than their talents and patriotism were capable of being circumscribed 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. Him, whose honored name the gentleman him- self bears — does he suppose me less capable of gratitude for his patriotism or sympathy for his sufferings, than if his eyes had first opened upon the light in Massachusetts, instead of South Carolina? Does he suppose it in his power to exhibit a Carolina name so bright, as to produce envy in my bosom? No, increased gratification and de- light rather. I thank God, that if I am gifted with little of the spirit which is able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none, as I trust, of that other spirit, which would drag angels down. When I shall be found, in my place here, in the Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit, VINDICATION OF NEW ENGLAND. 29 because it happened to spring up beyond the little limits of my own State or neighborhood ; when I refuse, for any such cause, or for any cause, the homage due to American talent, to elevated patriotism, to sincere devotion to liberty and the country ; or if I see an uncommon endowment of Heaven — if I see extraordinary capacity and virtue in any son of the South — and if, moved by local prejudice or gangrened by state jealousy, I get up here to abate the tithe of a hair from his just character and just fame, may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth ! Let me recur to pleasing recollections — let me indulge in refreshing remembrance of the past — let me remind you that in early times no States cherished greater harmony, both of principle and feeling, than Massachusetts and South Carolina. Would to God, that harmony might again return ! Shoulder to shoulder they went through the Revolution — hand in hand they stood round the Administration of Wash- ington, and felt his own great arm lean on them for support. Unkind feeling, if it exist, alienation and distrust, are the growth, unnatural to such soils, of false principles since sown. They are weeds, the seeds of which that same great arm never scattered. I shall enter on no encomiums upon Massachusetts — she needs none. There she is — behold her and judge for yourselves. There is her history — the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill — and there they will remain for ever. The bones of her sons, falling in the great struggle for Independence, now lie mingled with the soil of every State, from New England to Georgia; and there they will lie for ever. And, sir, where American liberty raised its infant 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. If discord and disunion shall wound it ; if party strife and blind am- bition shall hawk at and tear it ; if folly and madness^ if 3* 30 THE NEW -HA MPS HIRE BOOK. uneasiness under salutary and necessary 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 may gather round it; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest monu- ments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its origin. But, although there are fears, there are hopes also. The people have preserved this, their own chosen Constitution, for forty years, and have seen their happiness, prosperity and renown grow with its growth, and strengthen with its strength. They are now, generally, strongly attached to it. Overthrown by direct assault, it cannot be ; evaded, under- mined, NULLIFIED, it will uot be, if we, and those vv^ho shall succeed us here, as agents and representatives of the peo- ple, shall conscientiously and vigilantly discharge the two great branches of our public trust — faithfully to preserve, and wisely to administer it. I have thus stated the reasons of my dissent to the doc- trines which have been advanced and maintained. I am conscious of having detained you much too long. I was drawn into the debate, with no previous deliberation, such as is suited to the discussion of so grave and important a subject. But it is a subject of which my heart is full, and I have not been willing to suppress the utterance of its spontaneous sentiments. I cannot, even now, persuade myself to relinquish it, without expressing once more my deep conviction, that, since it respects nothing less than the union of the States, it is of most vital and essential importance to the public happiness. I profess, in my career hitherto, to have kept steadily in view the prosperity and honor of the whole country, and the preservation of our Federal Union. It is to that union we owe our safety at home, and our consideration and dignity abroad. It is to that union that we are chiefly indebted for whatever makes VINDICATION OF NEW ENGLAND. 31 US most proud of our country. That union we reached only by the discipline of our virtues in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin in the necessities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under its benign influences, these great interests immediately awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh proof of its utility and its blessings ; and although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population spread farther and farther, they have not outrun its protection or its benefits. It has been to us all a copious fountain of na- tional, social, and personal happiness. I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the Union, to see what might lie hidden in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see wheth- er, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss below ; nor could I regard him as a safe counsellor in the affairs of this Government, whose thoughts should be main- ly bent on considering, not how the Union should be best preserved, but how tolerable might be the condition of the people when it shall be broken up and destroyed. While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious union ; on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored through- out the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies 32 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. Streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or pol- luted, nor a single star obscured, bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, What is all this icorth 1 Nor those other words of delusion and folly. Liberty Jirst and Union afteriuards ; but every where, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart — Liberty and Union, now and for ever, one and inseparable ! OLD WINTER IS COMING. BY HUGH MOORE. [Born at Amherst, November 19, 1808. Died at Amherst, February 13, 1837. Old Winter is coming again — alack ! How icy and cold is he ! He cares not a pin for a shivering back — He 's a saucy old chap to white and black — He whistles his chills with a wonderful knack, For he comes from a cold countree ! A witty old fellow this Winter is — A mighty old fellow for glee ! He cracks his jokes on the pretty, sweet miss. The wrinkled old maiden, unfit to kiss, And freezes the dew of their lips : for this Is the way with old fellows like he ! Old Winter 's a frolicsome blade I wot — • He is wild in his humor, and free ! He '11 whistle along, for "the want of thought," And set all the warmth of our furs at nought, And ruffle the laces by pretty girls bought — A frolicsome fellow is he ! Old Winter is blowing his gusts along, And merrily shaking the tree ! From morning 'till night he will sing his song — Now moaning, and short — now howling, and long. His voice is loud — for his lungs are strong — A merry old fellow is he ! Old Winter 's a tough old fellow for blows. As tough as ever you see ! He will trip up our trotters^ and rend our clothes. And stiffen our limbs from our fingers to toes — He minds not the cries of his friends or his foes — A tough old fellow is he ! A cunning old fellow is Winter, they say, A cunning old fellow is he ! He peeps in the crevices day by day, To see how we 're passing our time away — And marks all our doings from grave to gay I 'm afraid he is peeping at rae ! THE SPARROW'S NEST OCCASIONED BY CRUSHING A NEST WITH THE PLOUGH, BY ROBERT DINS MOOR. [The Rustic Bard, born at Windham, October 7, 1757. Died at Windham, 1S30.] Poor innocent and hapless Sparrow ! Why should my moul-board gle thee sorrow ? This day thou '11 chirp, an' mourn the morrow, Wi' anxious breast — The plough has turn'd the mould'ring furrow Deep o'er thy nest. Just in the middle o' the hill, Thy nest was plac'd wi' curious skill; There I espy'd thy little bill Beneath the shade — In that sweet bower secure frae ill, Thine eggs thou laid. Five corns o' maize had there been drappit, An' through the stalks thine head thou pappit; The drawing nowt could na' be stappit, I quickly foun' — Syne frae thy cozie nest thou happit, An' flutt'ring ran. The sklentin stane beguil'd the sheer. In vain I tried the plough to steer ; A wee bit stumpie i' the rear, Cam' 'tween my legs — An' to the jee side gart me veer, An' crush thine eggs. Alas ! alas ! my bonnie birdie ! Thy faith fu' mate flits roun' to guard ye, Connubial love ! a pattern wordy The pious priest ! What savage heart could be sae hardy, As wound thy breast .'' Thy ruin was nae fau't o' mine, (It gars me greet to see thee pine ;) THESPARROW'SNEST. 35 It may be serves His great design, Who governs all ; Omniscience tents \vi' eyes divine, The sparrow's fall. A pair more friendly ne'er were married, Their joys an' pains were equal carried ; But now, ah me ! to grief they 're hurried. Without remead ; When all their hope an' treasure's buried, 'T is sad indeed. How much like theirs are human dools ! Their sweet wee bairns laid i' the mools, That sovereign Pow'r who nature rules, Has said, so be it ; But poor blin' mortals are sic' fools, They canna' see it. Nae doubt, that He wha' first did mate us. Has fixt our lot as sure as fate is. And when he wounds, he dis na' hate us. But only this — He '11 gar the ills that here await us, Yield lasting bliss. THE BIBLE, AS A HUMAN COMPOSITION. BY REV. EDWARD PAYSON. [Bom at Rindge, July 25, 1783. Died at Portlaud, Me., October 22, 1827.] It is notorious that even among such as profess to vene- rate the Scriptures, there are not a few, who seem to regard them as deficient in those qualities which excite interest and attention. It may not be improper, therefore, to make a few remarks with a design to show, that, while the Scrip- tures are incalculably valuable and important, viewed as a revelation from Heaven, they are also in a very high degree interesting and deserving of attention, considered merely as a human composition. Were we permitted to adduce the testimony of the Scrip- tures in their own favor, as a proof that their contents are highly interesting, our task would be short, and easily ac- complished. But it is possible, that to this testimony some might think it a sufficient reply, to apostrophize the sacred volume in the language of the captious Jews to our Saviour : " Thou bearest record of thyself; thy record is not true." No similar objection can be urged, however, against avail- ing ourselves of the testimony which eminent uninspired men have borne in favor of the Scriptures. From the al- most innumerable testimonies of this nature, which might easily be adduced, we shall select only that of Sir William Jones, a judge of the supreme court of judicature in Ben- gal : a man, says his learned biographer, who by the exer- tion of rare intellectual talents, acquired a knowledge of arts, sciences, and languages, which has seldom been 37 equalled, and scarcely, if ever, surpassed. " / have care- fully and regularly perused the Scrijjtures," says this truly great man, " a7id am of opinion that this volume, indepen- dent of its divine origin, contains more sublimity, pwer mo- rality, more important history, and finer strains of eloquence, than can he collected from all other books, in whatever lan- guage they may have been zvritten." How well he was qualified to make this remark, and how much it implied in his lips, may be inferred from the fact, that he was acquaint- ed with twenty-eight different languages, and with the best works which had been published in most of them. That a volume, which, in the opinion of such a man, is thus supe- rior to all other books united, cannot be so uninteresting and insipid a composition as many seem to imagine, it must be needless to remark ; that his commendation of it, though great and unqualified, is in no respect unmerited, it would be easy, were it necessary, to prove, by appropriate quota- tions from the book which he so highly extols. But its mo- rality will be more properly considered in a subsequent part of this treatise; and its unrivalled eloquence and sublimity are too obvious, and too generally acknowledged, to require illustration. If any imagine that he has estimated too high- ly the historical information which this volume contains, we would only request them to peruse it with attention ; and particularly to consider the assistance which it affords, in accounting for many otherwise inexplicable phenomena in the natural, political, and moral world. A person who has never attended to the subject, will, on recollection, be sur- prised to find for how large a portion of his knowledge he is indebted to this neglected book. It is the only book which satisfactorily accounts, or even professes to account, for the introduction of natural and moral evil into the world, and for the consequent present situation of mankind. To this book also we are indebted for all our knowledge of the pro- genitors of our race, and of the early ages of the world ; for our acquaintance with the manners and customs of those ages ; for the origin and explanation of many remarkable 4 38 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. traditions, which have extensively prevailed ; and for almost every thing which is known of many once flourishing na- tions, especially of the Jews, the most singular and interest- ing people, perhaps, that ever existed. It is the Bible alone^ which, by informing us of the Deluge, enables us to account satisfactorily for many surprising appearances in the inter- nal structure of the earth, as well as for the existence of marine exuvise on the summits of mountains, and in other places, far distant from the sea. By the same volume we are assisted in accounting for the multiplicity of languages which exist in the world ; for the degrading condition of the Africans ; for the origin and universal prevalence of sacri- fices ; and for many other facts of an equally interesting nature. We shall only add, that, while the Scriptures throw light on the facts here alluded to, the existence of the facts powerfully tends, on the other hand, to establish the truth and authenticity of the Scriptures. In addition to these intrinsic excellences of the Bible, which give it, considered merely as a human production, powerful claims to the attention of persons of taste and learning, there are various circumstances of an adventitious nature, which render it peculiarly interesting to a reflecting mind. Among these circumstances we may, perhaps not improperly, mention its great antiquity. Whatever may be said of its inspiration, some of the books which compose it are unquestionably the most ancient literary compositions extant, and perhaps the most ancient that ever were written ; nor is it very improbable, that letters were first employed in recording some parts of them, and that they were written in the language first spoken by man. It is also not only the most ancient book, but the most ancient monument of hu- man exertion, the oldest offspring of human intellect, now in existence. Unlike the other works of man, it inherits not his frailty. All the contemporaries of its infancy have loner since perished, and are forgotten ; yet this wonderful volume still survives. Like the fabled pillars of Seth, which are said to have bid defiance to the Deluge, it has stood for THEBIBLE. 39 ages, unmoved, in the midst of that flood which sweeps away men with their labors into oblivion. That these circum- stances render it an interesting object of contemplation, it is needless to remark. Were there now in existence a tree which was planted, an edifice which was erected, or any monument of human ingenuity which was formed, at that early period in which some parts of the Bible were written, would it not be contemplated with the keenest interest ; carefully preserved, as a precious relic ; and considered as something little less than sacred? With what emotions, then, will a thoughtful mind open the Bible ; and what a train of interesting reflections is it in this view calculated to excite ! While we contemplate its antiquity, exceeding that of every object around us, except the works of God ; and view it in anticipation, as continuing to exist unaltered until the end of time ; must we not feel almost irresistibly impelled to venerate it, as proceeding originally from Him, who is yesterday, to-day, and forever the same — whose works, like his years, fail not 1 The interest which this volume excites by its antiquity, will be greatly increased, if we consider the violent and persevering opposition it has encountered, and the almost innumerable enemies it has resisted and overcome. We contemplate with no ordinary degree of interest, a rock, which has braved for centuries the ocean's rage, practically saying, " Hitherto shalt thou come, but no farther ; and here shall thy proud waves be stayed." With still greater inter- est, though of a somewhat different kind, should we con- template a fortress, which, during thousands of years, had been constantly assaulted by successive generations of enemies : around whose walls millions had perished ; and to overthrow which, the utmost efforts of human force and ingenuity had been exerted in vain. Such a rock, such a fortress, we contemplate in the Bible. For thousands of years this volume has withstood, not only the iron tooth of time, which devours men and their works together, but all the physical and intellectual strength of man. Pretended 40 THE NEW -HAMPSHIRE BOOK. friends have endeavored to corrupt and betray it ; kings and princes have perseveringly sought to banish it from the v\^orld ; the civil and military powers of the greatest em- pires have been leagued for its destruction ; the fires of persecution have been often lighted, to consume it and its friends together ; and, at many seasons, death in some horrid form has been the almost certain consequence of affording it an asylum from the fury of its enemies. It has also been almost incessantly assailed by weapons of a different kind, which, to any other book, would be far more dangerous than fire or sword. In these assaults, wit and ridicule have wasted all their shafts ; misguided Reason has been compelled, though reluctantly, to lend her aid, and, after repeated defeats, has again been dragged to the field j the arsenals of learning have been emptied, to arm her for the contest ; and in search of means to prosecute it with success, recourse has been had, not only to remote ages and distant lands, but even to the bowels of the earth, and the region of the stars. Yet still the object of all these attacks remains uninjured, while one army of its assailants after another has melted away. Though it has been ridiculed more bitterly, misrepresented more grossly, opposed more rancorously, and burned more frequently, than any other book, and perhaps than all other books united ; it is so far from sinking under the efforts of its enemies, that the prob- ability of its surviving until the final consummation of all things is now evidently much greater than ever. The rain has descended ; the floods have come ; the storm has arisen and beaten upon it ; but it falls not, for it is founded upon a rock. Like the burning bush, it has ever been in the flames, yet it is still unconsumed ; a sufficient proof, was there no other, that He, who dwelt in the bush, pre- serves the Bible. If the opposition which this volume has successfully en- countered, renders it an interesting object of contemplation, the veneration which has been paid to it, the use which has been made of it, and the benefits which have been de- THEBIBLE. 41 rived from it by the wise and good in all ages, make it still more so. Who would not esteem it a most delightful priv- ilege, to see and converse with a man who had lived through as many centuries as the Bible has existed ; who had con- versed with all the successive generations of men, and been intimately acquainted with their motives, characters, and conduct ; who had been the chosen friend and companion of the wise and good in every age — the venerated monitor, to whose example and instructions the wise had ascribed their wisdom, and the virtuous their virtue? What could be more interesting than the sight; what more pleasing and instructive, than the society of such a man 1 Yet such society we may in effect enjoy, whenever we choose to open the Bible. In this volume we see the chosen com- panion, the most intimate friend of the prophets, the apos- tles, the martyrs, and their pious contemporaries; the guide, whose directions they implicitly followed ; the monitor, to whose faithful warnings and instructions they ascribed their wisdom, their virtues, and their happiness. In this volume we see the Book, in which the deliverer, the king, the sweet Psalmist of Israel delighted to meditate day and night: whose counsels made him wiser than all his teachers ; and which he describes, as sweeter than honey, and more pre- cious than gold. This too is the book, for the sake of which many a persecuted believer has forsaken his native land and taken up his dwelling in the wilderness ; bringing it with him as his most valuable treasure, and at death bequeathing it to his posterity as the richest bequest in his power to make. From this source, millions now in heaven have derived the strongest and purest consolation ; and scarcely can we fix our attention on a single passage in this wonderful book, which has not afforded comfort or instruction to thousands, and been wet with tears of peni- tential sorrow or grateful joy, drawn from eyes that will weep no more. There is probably not an individual in this christian land, some of whose ancestors did not, while on earth, prize this volume more than life ; and breathe many 4* 42 THE NEW -HA MPS HIRE BOOK. fervent prayers to Heaven, that all their descendants, to the latest generation, might be induced to prize it in a similar manner. Thousands too have sealed their belief of its truth with their blood ; rejoicing to shed it in defence of a book which, while it led them to the stake, enabled them to triumph over its tortures. Nor have its effects been con- fined to individuals. Nations have participated largely in its benefits. Armed with this volume, which is at once sword and shield, the first heralds of Christianity went forth conquering and to conquer. No less powerful than the wonder-working rod of Moses, its touch crumbled into dust the temples of paganism, and overthrew, as in a moment, the immense fabric of superstition and idolatry which had been for ages erecting. To this volume alone it is owing, that we do not assemble on our appointed days to offer our worship in the temple of an idol ; that stocks and stones are not our deities ; that cruelty, intemperance, and impurity do not constitute our religion ; and that our children are not burnt as sacrifices at the shrine of Moloch. To this volume we are also indebted for the reformation in the days of Lu- ther : for the consequent revival and progress of learning; and for our present freedom from papal tyranny. Nor are these benefits, great as they are, all which it has been the means of conferring on man. Wherever it comes, blessings follow in its train. Like the stream which diff'uses itself, and is apparently lost among the herbage, it betrays its course by its effects. Wherever its influence is felt, temperance, in- dustry, and contentment prevail ; natural and moral evils are banished, or mitigated ; and churches, hospitals, and asylums for almost every species of wretchedness arise, to adorn the landscape, and cheer the eye of benevolence. Such are the temporal benefits which even infidelity itself, if it would for once be candid, must acknowledge that the Bible has bestowed on man. Almost coeval with the sun, its fittest emblem, it has, like that luminary, from the com- mencement of its existence, shed an unceasing flood of light on a benighted and wretched world. Who then can THE BIBLE 43 doubt that He, who formed the sun, gave the Bible to be "alight unto our feet, and a lamp to our path?" Who, that contemplates this fountain, still full and overflowing, notwithstanding the millions that have drunk of its waters, can doubt that it has a real though invisible connexion with that river of life, which flows for ever at the right hand of God? THE LIGHT OF HOME. BY MRS. SARAH J. HALE. My boy, thou wilt dream the world is fair, And thy spirit will sigh to roam. And thou must go ; — but never when there Forget the light of home. Though pleasure may smile with a ray more bright, It dazzles to lead astray ; Like the meteor's flash it will deepen the night, When thou treadest the lonely way. But the hearth of home has a constant flame, And pure as the vestal fire ; 'T will burn, 't will burn, forever the same. For nature feeds the pyre. The sea of ambition is tempest-tost. And thy hopes may vanish like foam , But when sails are shivered and rudder lost, Then look to the light of home. And there, like a star through the midnight cloud, Thou shalt see the beacon bright, For never, till shining on thy shroud, Can be quench'd its holy light. The sun of fame, 't will gild the name, But the heart ne'er feels its ray ; And fashion's smiles that rich ones claim. Are like beams of a wintry day. And how cold and dim those beams would be, Should life's wretched wanderer come : But my boy, when the world is dark to thee. Then turn to the light of home. THE ROYAL PENITENT. 2 SAMUEL, CHAPTER XII. BY SARAH PORTER. [1791.] Death's angel now, commission'd by the Lord, O'er the fond infant holds the fatal sword ; From the dread sight the frantic father turns, And, clad in sackcloth, in his chamber mourns ; The monitor, within the royal breast. That long had slept, now roused at length from rest. Holds forth a mirror to the aching sight, Seizes the mind that fain would take its flight, Bids it look in : — and first, Uriah stood, Arm'd for the fight, as yet unstain'd with blood ; Courage and care were on his brow combined, To show the hero and the patriot join'd : Next, pale and lifeless, on his warlike shield, The soldiers bore him from the bloody field. " And is it thus ? " the Royal mourner said, "And has my hand perform'd the dreadful deed ? Was I the wretch that gave thee to the foe, And bade thee sink beneath the impending blow ? Bade every friend and hero leave thy side ? Open, O earth ! and in thy bosom hide A guilty wretch who wishes not to live ; Who cannot, dares not, ask for a reprieve ; So black a crime just Heaven will not forgive ! Justice arrests thy coming mercy. Lord ; Strike then, O strike, unsheath thy dreadful sword : Accursed forever be the hated day, That led my soul from innocence astray ; O may the stars, on that detested hour. Shed all their influence with malignant power, Darkness and sorrows jointly hold their reign, When time, revolving, brings it round again. Unhappy man ! — ah ! whither shall I turn ? Like Cain, accurst, must I forever mourn ? On beds of silk in vain I seek repose, Uriah's shade forbids my eyes to close ; No bars exclude him — to no place confined, Eager he still pursues my flying mind : 46 THE NEW -HAMPSHIRE BOOK Not all the crowd that bow at my approach, Nor guards that thicken round the gilded couch, Can with their arms, or martial air, aftright, Or drive the phantom from my wearied sight. happy day ! when, blest with Eglah's charms, 1 woo'd no other beauty to my arms ; No court's licentious joys did then molest My peaceful mind, nor haunt my tranquil breast. A glitt'ring crown ! thou poor, fantastic thing ! What solid satisfaction canst thou bring ? Once, far removed from all the toils of state, In groves I slept — no guards around me wait: Oh ! how delicious was the calm retreat ! Sweet groves ! with birds and various flowers stored. Where nature furnished out my frugal board ; The pure, unstained spring, my thirst allayed ; No poisoned draught, in golden cups conveyed. Was there to dread — Return, ye happy hours. Ye verdant shades, kind nature's pleasing bowers, Inglorious solitude, again return. And heal the breast with pain and anguish torn. God ! let thy mercy, like the solar ray, Break forth and drive these dismal clouds away ; Oh ! send its kind enlivening warmth on one Who sinks, who dies, beneath thy dreadful frown : Thus fares the wretch at sea, by tempests tost, Sands, hurricanes, and rocks, proclaim him lost ; With eager eyes he views the peaceful shore, And longs to rest where billows cease to roar : Of wanton winds and waves I've been the sport, Oh ! when shall I attain the wished-for port ? Or might I bear the punishment alone, Nor hear the lovely infant's piteous moan; My sins upon the dying child impressed. The dreadful thought forbids my soul to rest. In mercy. Lord, thy humble suppliant hear. Oh ! give the darling to my ardent prayer ! Cleanse me from sin — oh ! graciously forgive; Blest with thy love, oh ! let thy servant live : Thy smiles withdrawn, what is the world to me ? My hopes, my joys, are placed alone on thee : Oh ! let thy love, to this desponding heart, One ray, at least, of heavenly love impart." AGRICULTURE AND COMMERCE, BY REV. JOSEPH S. BUCKMINSTER. [Born at Portsmouth, May 26, 1784. Died at Boston, June 9, 1812. No situation in life is so favorable to established habits of virtue, and to powerful sentiments of devotion, as a resi- dence in the country, and rural occupations. I am not speaking of a condition of peasantry of which in this country we know little, who are mere vassals of an absent lord, or the hired laborers of an iritendant, and who are, therefore, interested in nothing but the regular receipt of their daily wages ; but I refer to the honorable character of an owner of the soil, whose comforts, whose weight in the community, and whose very existence depend upon his personal labors, and the regular returns of abundance from the soil which he cultivates. No man, one would think, would feel so sensibly his immediate dependence upon God, as the husbandman. For all his peculiar blessings, he is invited to look immediately to the bounty of Heaven. No secondary cause stands between him and his Maker. To him are essential the regular succession of the seasons, and the timely fall of the rain, the genial warmth of the sun, the sure productiveness of the soil, and the certain operations of those laws of nature, which must appear to him nothing less than the varied exertions of omnipresent energy. In the country, we seem to stand in the midst of the great theatre of God's power, and we feel an unusual proximity to our Creator. His blue and tranquil sky spreads itself over our heads, and we acknowledge the intrusion of 48 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. no secondary agent in unfolding this vast expanse. Nothing but omnipotence can work up the dark horrors of the tem- pest, dart the flashes of the lightning, and roll the long-re- sounding rumor of the thunder. The breeze wafts to his senses the odors of God's beneficence; the voice of God's power is heard in the rustling of the forest ; and the varied forms of life, activity, and pleasure, which he observes at every step in the fields, lead him irresistibly ,one would think, to the source of being and beauty and joy. How auspicious such a life to the noble sentiments of devotion ! Besides, the situation of the husbandman is peculiarly fa- vorable, it should seem, to purity and simplicity of moral sentiment. He is brought acquainted, chiefly, with the real and native wants of mankind. Employed solely in bringing food out of the earth, he is not liable to be fasci- nated with the fictitious pleasures, the unnatural wants, the fashionable follies and tyrannical vices of more busy and splendid life. Still more favorable to the religious character of the husbandman is the circumstance, that, from the nature of agricultural pursuits, they do not so completely engross the attention as other occupations. They leave much time for contemplation, for reading, and intellectual pleasures; and these are peculiarly grateful to the resident in the country. Especially does the institution of the Sabbath discover all its value to the tiller of the earth, whose fatigue it solaces, whose hard labors it interrupts, and who feels on that day the worth of his moral nature, which cannot be under- stood by the busy man, who considers the repose of this day as interfering with his hopes of gain, or professional employments. If, then, this institution is of any moral and religious value, it is to the country we must look for the continuance of that respect and observance which it merits. My friends, those of you especially who retire annually into the country, let these periodical retreats from business or dissipation bring you nearer to your God; let them re- store the clearaess of your judgment on the objects of hu- AGRICULTURE AND COMMERCE, 49 man pursuits, invigorate your moral perceptions, exalt your sentiments, and regulate your habits of devotion ; and if there be any virtue or simplicity remaining in rural life, let them never be impaired by the influence of your presence and example. After what we have now said upon the virtuous and de- votional tendency of a country life, it may, perhaps, be con- sidered as inconsistent, or even paradoxical, to place our commercial character among our moral, much less our re- ligious advantages. But let it be considered, whatever be the influence of traffic upon the personal worth of some of those who are engaged in it, its intrinsic value to the com- munity, and its kind influence upon certain parts of the moral character are not to be disputed. Hence I do not scruple to state it as one of our great national distinctions, which call for our grateful acknowledgments. Tell me not of Tyre, and Sidon, and Corinth, and Carthage. I know they were commercial, and corrupt. But let it be remem- bered, that they flourished long before the true principles of honorable trade were understood ; before the introduction of Christianity had given any stability to those virtues of conscientious integrity, and strict fidelity in trusts, which are now indispensable to commercial prosperity. They have passed away, it is true ; and so has Sparta, where no commerce was allowed ; and Judea, though mostly agricul- tural, is known no more, except for its national ingratitude and corruption. Besides, when the choice of a nation lies, as, from the present state of the world, it appears long des- tined to lie, between a commercial and a military character, surely there can be little hesitation about the comparative influence of the peaceful activity of trade, though it may tend to enervate some of the energies of the human charac- ter, and that deplorable activity of a mere warlike nation, where plunder is the ruling passion of the great, and de- struction, the trade of the small ; where every new conquest tends only to concentrate, in still fewer hands, the wealth of kingdoms, and to inspire the common people with an un- 50 THE NEW -HA MPS HIRE BOOK. distinguishing ferocity. Surely, we cannot hesitate, whether to prefer that warlike state of a nation, which poisons at once the sources and security of domestic happiness — a state, in which the lives, as well as the virtues of mankind, sink into objects of insignificant importance — or that com- mercial situation of a people, which rouses and developes all the powers of all classes of the population, which gives a perpetual spring to industry, and which, by showing every man, how completely he is dependent upon every other man, makes it his interest to promote the prosperity, to con- sult the happiness, and to maintain the peace, the health, and the security of the millions, with whom he is connected. Surely, that state of a people cannot be unfavorable to virtue, which provides such facilities of intellectual commu- nication between the remotest regions, so that not a bright idea can spring up in the brain of a foreign philosopher, but it darts, like lightning, across the Atlantic ; not an im- provement obtains in the condition of one society, but it is instantly propagated to every other. By this perpetual in- terchange of thought, and this active diffusion of under- standing, the most favorable opportunities are afforded for the dissemination of useful knowledge, especially for the extension of that most precious of gifts, the gospel of Jesus. I need not add, that the v/ide intercourse, we are keeping up with foreign nations, ought to enlarge the sphere of our intelligence, liberalize our sentiments of mankind, polish the manners of the community, and introduce courteousness and urbanity of deportment. Merchants! if I may be per- mitted to suggest to you any considerations on the value of your order to the community, I would say, that upon your personal character depends much of these favorable influen- ces of commerce. I would beg you to beware of an engros- sing love of profit, which invariably narrows the capacity, and debases the noblest tendencies of the human character. I would persuade you to cultivate habits of mental activity, to indulge enlarged views of your connexion with mankind, to consider yourselves as forming part of the vast chain of AGRICULTURE AND COMMERCE. 51 mutual supports and dependencies, by which the activity, the improvement and the pleasure of the inhabitants of every part of the world are secured and promoted. Above all, forget not, that you are instruments in the hands of Provi- dence, by which he diffuses his blessings, and promotes his grand purposes in the cultivation, the civilization, and thus the moral and religious advancement, of this wide creation. God grant, that you may never feel the remorse of having deliberately contributed to the introduction of a new vice into the community, or to the corruption of an old or established principle ; of having aided the tyranny of a worthless fashion, or assisted the gradual encroachments of selfishness, vanity, pomp, and slavish imitation, on the free- dom and dignity of social life ! TRIBUTE TO MY NATIVE STREAM. BY NATHANIEL H. CARTER. [Born at Concord, 1788. Died at Marseilles, France, January 2, 1830.] Hail ! hail again my native stream, Scene of my boyhood's earliest dream 1 With solitary step once more I tread thy wild and silvan shore, And pause at every turn and gaze Upon thy dark meandering maze. What though obscure thy woody source, What thovigh unsung thy humble course, What if no lofty classic name Give to thy peaceful waters fame ; Still can thy rural haunts impart A solace to this saddened heart. Since last with thee I parted, Time Has borne me on through many a clime, Far from my native roof that stood Secluded by thy murmuring flood ; And 1 in distant lands have roamed, Where rolled new streams, new oceans foamed. Along the Shannon, Doon, and Tay, I 've sauntered many a happy day, And sought beside the Cam and Thames, Memorials of immortal names; Or mingled in the polished train Of fashion, on the banks of Seine. And I have seen the azure Rhone Rush headlong from his Alpine throne; Green Mincius and the silver Po Through vine-clad vales meandering flow ; Sweet Arno wreath'd in summer flowers, Linger amidst Etrurian bowers ; And the swoln Tiber's yellow tide Roll to the sea in sullen pride. In climes beneath the burning zone, Mid tangled forests, deep and lone, Where fervid skies forever glow. And the soft trade-winds whispering blow. TRIBUTE TO MY NATIVE STREAM. 53 My roving footsteps too have press'd The lovehest island of the West. There Yumuri winds deep and calm, Through groves of citron and of palm ; And on the sluggish wave of Juan,* My little boat hath borne me on. Or up Canimar's silent floods, Stro wn with the blossoms of its woods. t Yet not the less, my native stream, Art thou to me a grateful theme. Than when in heedless boyhood's prime I wove for thee the rustic rhyme, Ere other realms, beyond the sea. Had spread their fairest charms for me. E'en now, alone I sit me down Amidst thy woods, with autumn brown, And on the riastling leaves recline. Beneath a copse of whispering pine, To watch thy amber current run. Bright with November's parting sun. Around, with eager eye I trace The charms of each remembered place ; Some fountain gushing from the bank, At which, in youth, I knelt and drank; Yon oak its hoary arms that rears, Scene of my sports in boyish years. Farewell ! farewell ! though I no more May ramble on thy rural shore, Still shall thy quiet wave glide on When he who watched its flow is gone. And his sole epitaph shall be Inscribed upon some aged tree. •This word is pronounced in Spanish as if written Whon. tThe author in rowing up the river Canimar, near Matanzas, in Januarj', 1828, found its current cover- ed with the blossoms of forest trees growing upon its banks. 5* MONADNOCK. BY WILLIAM B. O. PEABODY. Upon the far-off mountain's brow The angry storm has ceased to beat, And broken clouds are gathering now, In lowly reverence round his feet. I saw their dark and crowded banks On his firm head in wrath descending, But there once more redeemed he stands, And heaven's clear arch is o'er him bending. I''ve seen him when the rising sun Shone like a watch-fire on the height, I 've seen him when the day was done, Bathed in the evening's crimson light ; I 've seen him in the midnight hour, When all around were calmly sleeping. Like some lone sentry in his tower. His patient watch in silence keeping. And there, as ever, steep and clear. That pyramid of Nature springs ! He owns no rival turret near, No sovereign, but the King of kings. While many a nation hath passed by. And many an age, unknown in story, His walls and battlements on high He rears, in melancholy glory. And let a world of human pride. With all its grandeur, melt away, And spread around his rocky side The broken fragments of decay. Serene his hoary head will tower. Untroubled by one thought of sorrow ; He numbers not the weary hour. He welcomes not nor fears to-morrow. Farewell ! I go my distant way ; Perhaps not far in future years, The eyes that glow with smiles to-day. May gaze upon thee, dim with tears. MONADNOCK. 55 Then let me learn from thee to rise, All time and chance and change defying; Still pointing upward to the skies, And on the inward strength relying. If life before rny weary eye Grows fearful as the angry sea, Thy memory shall suppress the sigh For that which never more can be. Inspiring all within the heart With firm resolve and strong endeavor, To act a brave and faithful part, Till life's short warfare ends for ever. SOLEMN REVIEW OF WAR. BY REV. NOAH WORCESTER, D [Born at HoUis, 1759. Died at Brighton, Mass., 1837.] We regard with horror the custom of the ancient hea- thens, in offering their children in sacrifice to idols. We are shocked with the customs of the Hindoos, in prostrating themselves before tlie car of an idol to be crushed to death ; in burning women alive on the funeral piles of their hus- bands; in offering a monthly sacrifice, by casting living children into the Ganges to be drowned. We read with astonishment of the sacrifices made in the Papal crusades, and in the Mahometan and Hindoo pilgrimages. We won- der at the blindness of christian nations, who have esteem- ed it right and honorable to buy and sell Africans as proper- ty, and reduce them to bondage for life. But that which is fashionable and popular in any country is esteemed right and honorable, whatever may be its nature in the views of men better informed. But while we look back with a mixture of wonder, indig- nation, and pity on many of the customs of former ages, are we careful to inquire whether some customs which we deem honorable, are not the effect of popular delusion ? and wheth- er they will not be so regarded by future generations ? Is it not a fact, that one of the most horrid customs of savage men, is now popular in every nation in Christendom ? What custom of the most barbarous nations is more repugnant to the feelings of piety, humanity and justice, than that of de- ciding controversies between nations by the edge of the sword, by powder and ball, or the point of the bayonet ? What other savage custom has occasioned half the desola- SOLEMN REVIEW OF WAR. 57 tion and misery to the human race ? And what, but the grossest infatuation, could render such a custom popular among rational beings 1 When we consider how great a part of mankind have perished by the hands of each other, and how large a por- tion of human calamity has resulted from war, it surely can- not appear indifferent whether this custom is or is not the effect of delusion. Certainly there is no custom which de- serves a more thorough examination, than that which has occasioned more slaughter and misery than all the other abominable customs of the heathen world. War has been so long fashionable amongst all nations, that its enormity is but little regarded ; or when thought of at all, it is usually considered as an evil necessary and un- avoidable. But the question to be considered is this : can- not the state of society and the views of civilized men be so changed as to abolish so barbarous a custom, and render wars unnecessary and avoidable ? If this question may be answered in the affirmative, then we may hope that ''the sword will not devour for ever." Some may be ready to exclaim, " None but God can pro- duce such an effect as the abolition of war, and we must wait for the millennial day." We admit that God only can produce the necessary change in the state of society, and the views of men ; but God works by human agency and human means. None but God could have produced such a change in the views of the British nation, as to abolish the slave trade ; yet the event was brought about by a long course of persevering and honorable exertions of benevolent men. When the thing was first proposed, it probably appeared to the majority of the people, as an unavailing and chimeri- cal project. But God raised up powerful advocates, gave them the spirit of perseverance, and finally crowned their efforts with glorious success. Now, it is probable, thou- sands of people are wondering how such an abominable traffic ever had existence in a nation which had the least 58 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. pretensions to Christianity or civilization. In a similar manner God can put an end to war, and fill the world with astonishment, that rational beings ever thought of such a mode of settling controversies. As to waiting for the millennium to put an end to war, without any exertions on our own part, it is like the sinner's waiting God's time for conversion, while he pursues his course of vice and impiety. If ever there shall be a millen- nium, in which the sword will cease to devour, it will prob- ably be effected by the blessing of God on the benevolent exertions of enlightened men. Perhaps no one thing is now a greater obstacle in the way of the wished-for state of the church, than the spirit and custom of war which is maintained by christians themselves. Is it not then time that efforts should be made to enlighten the minds of chris- tians on a subject of such infinite importance to the happi- ness of the human race ? That such a state of things is desirable, no enlightened christian can deny. That it can be produced without ex- pensive and persevering efforts is not imagined. But are not such efforts to exclude the miseries of war from the world as laudable as those which have for their object the support of such a malignant and desolating custom ? The whole amount of property in the United States is probably of far less value than what has been expended and destroyed within two centuries by wars in Christendom. Suppose then, that one fifth of this amount had been judi- ciously laid out by peace associations in the different states and nations, in cultivating the spirit and art of peace, and in exciting a just abhorrence of war ; would not the other four fifths have been in a great measure saved, besides many millions of lives, and an immense portion of misery ? Had the whole value of what has been expended in wars, been appropriated to the purpose of peace, how laudable would have been the appropriation and how blessed the conse- quences ! It will perhaps be pleaded, that mankind are not yet suf- SOLEMN REVIEW OF WAR. 59 ficiently enlightened to apply the principles of the gospel for the abolition of war ; and that we must wait for a more im- proved state of society. Improved in what 1 in the science of blood ? Are such improvements to prepare the way for peace ? Why not wait a few centuries, until the natives of India become more improved in their idolatrous customs, before we attempt to convert them to Christianity ? Do we expect that by continuing in the practice of idolatry, their minds will be prepared to receive the gospel ? If not, let us be consistent, and while we use means for the conversion of heathens, let means also be used for the conversion of christians. For war is in fact a heathenish and savage cus- tom of the most malignant, most desolating, and most hor- rible character. It is the greatest curse, and results from the grossest delusions, that ever afflicted a guilty world. THE LYRE. BY MILTON WA R D. There was a Lyre, 't is said, that hung High waving in the summer air ; An angel hand its chords had strung, And left to breathe its music there. Each wandering breeze, that o'er it flew, Awoke a wilder, sweeter strain. Than ever shell of mermaid blew In coral grottoes of the main. When, springing from the rose's bell. Where all night he had sweetly slept, The zephyr left the flowery dell Bright with the tears that morning wept, He rose, and o'er the trembling lyre, Waved lightly his soft azure wing ; What touch such music could inspire ! What harp such lays of joy could sing ! The murmurs of the shaded rills. The birds, that sweetly warbled by, And the soft echo from the hills. Were heard not where that harp was nigh. When the last light of fading day Along the bosom of the west, In colors softly mingled lay While night had darken 'd all the rest. Then, softer than that fading light. And sweeter than the lay, that rung Wild through the silence of the night, As solemn Pliilomela sung. That harp its plaintive murmurs sighed Along the dewy breeze of even ; So clear and soft they swelled and died, They seemed the echoed songs of heaven. Sometimes, when all the air was still. And not the poplar's foliage trembled, That harp was nightly heard to thrill With tones, no earthly tones resembled. And then, upon the moon's pale beams. Unearthly forms were seen to stray. Whose starry pinions' trembling gleams Would oft around the wild harp play. THELYRE. 61 J3ut soon the bloom of summer fled, In earth and air it shone no more ; Each flower and leaf fell pale and dead, While skies their wintry sternness wore. One day, loud blew the northern blast, The tempest's fury raged along; Oh ! for some angel, as they passed, To shield the harp of heavenly song ! It shrieked — how could it bear the touch, The cold rude touch of such a storm, When e'en the zephyr seemed too much Sometimes, though always light and warm ! It loudly shrieked — but ah ! in vain ; The savage wind more fiercely blew ; Once more — it never shrieked again, For every chord was torn in two. It never thrilled with anguish more, Though beaten by the wildest blast ; The pang, that thus its bosom tore. Was dreadful— but it was the last. And though the smiles of summer played Gently upon its shattered form, And the light zephyrs o'er it strayed, That Lyre they could not wake or Avarm. SONG OF THE HUSBANDMAN BY MRS. EUNICE T. DANIELS [Bam at Plainfield, 1807v Died at Flainfield, June 16, 1841.] New-England's soil, our happy home, The land of hardy worth, Where plenty crowns the social board, And love lights up the hearth ; The land of rock, and mount, and glen, Of noble streams that sweep. Through valleys rich with verdure. In gladness to the deep ; — Blue are the arching skies above, And green the fields below. And autumn fruits and summer flowers In wild profusion grow. The towering oak and ancient pine Our noble forests bear ; The maple bough its blossoms Flings on the scented air ; And flock and herd and waving grain Each slope and upland crown ; And autunm winds from laden bough The mellow fruits shake down ; The fragrant clover tempts the bee, Its blushing sweets to pry. And in tall ranks the glossy maize Points upward to the sky. No tyrant landlord wrings our soil. Or rends its fruit away ; The flocks upon our own green hills. Secure from plunder stray ; No bigot's scourge or martyr's fires A barbarous creed fulfil, For the spirit of our stern old sires Is with their children still. And pure to heaven our altars rise. Upon a bloodless sod. Where man with free unfettered faith Bows down and worships God. SONG OF THE HUSBANDMAN. 63 No midnight revel wastes our strength, Or prints our brows with care ; We shun the noisy wassail, The serpents coiling there ; But childhood's ringing tones of mirth, And love's refined caress, With the pure page of knowledge. Our peaceful evenings bless. And underneath our pillow There 's a spell for slumber's hour. And for the sons of toil alone That magic spell hath power. Our homes ! our dear New-England homes Where sweet affections meet ; Where the cool poplar spreads its shade. And flowers our senses greet ; The lily rears her polished cup. The rose as freshly springs. And to the sky looks gaily up, As in the courts of kings ; And the vine that climbs the window. Hangs drooping from above, And sends its grateful odors in With messages of love. Then hail to thee ! New England ! Thou cherished land of ours ; Our sons are like the granite rocks. Our daughters like the flowers. We quail to none, of none we crave, Nor bend the servile knee ; The life-blood that our fathers gave. Still warms the firm and free. Free as our eagle spreads his wings, We own no tyrant's rod. No master but the King of kings, No monarch but our God ! AUTUMN, BY NATHANIEL A. HAVEN. I LOVE the dews of night, 1 love the howling wind ; I love to hear the tempests sweep 'er the billows of the deep ! For nature's saddest scenes delight The melancholy mind. Autumn ! I love thy bower, With faded garlands drest ; How sweet, alone to linger there When tempests ride the midnight air ! To snatch from mirth a fleeting hour, The sabbath of the breast ! Autumn ! I love thee well ; Though bleak thy breezes blow ; 1 love to see the vapors rise, And clouds roll wildly round the skies. Where from the plain the mountains swell, And foaming torrents flow. Autumn ! thy fading flowers Droop but to bloom again ; So man, though doomed to grief awhile, To hang on Fortune's fickle smile. Shall glow in heaven with nobler powers, Nor sigh for peace in vain. SKETCH or CHIEF JUSTICE RICHARDSON. BY JOEL PARKER, LL. D. How often, apparently, is the world indebted to accident for the benefits received from some of the most distinguish- ed men ! The casting of a book in the way of slumbering intellect incites it to overcome all obstacles in the pursuit of knowledge. A beautiful harangue or a successful argu- ment is sometimes the spark that lights the flame of ambi- tion in the breast of one before destined to other pursuits, and he burns with the desire of emulation, and strikes out for himself a more brilliant, if not a more happy career. Accidental injuries in the workshop and in the field, inca- pacitating the party, for a greater or less period, from man- ual labor, have given to science some of her most persever- ing and successful votaries. " We call it chance — but there is a Divinity That shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will." An instance is before us. William Merchant Rich- ardson was born at Pelham, in this State, January 4, 1774, and labored upon his father's farm until he was about fifteen years of age, when an injury to his hand for a time inca- pacitated him for active exertions. During the period of leisure thus forced upon him, he indulged a taste for study, and determined to procure for himself a collegiate educa- tion. This he accomplished, and graduated at Cambridge University in 1797. In the course of his collegiate studies, and during the time he officiated as an instructer, he became thoroughly imbued with a taste for poetry, and classical and general 6* '66 THE NEW -HAMPSHIRE BOOK. literature, as is in some degree indicated by his appointment to deliver a poem upon the occasion of his graduation ; and his love for such studies and pursuits continued unabated to the close of his life. The law is generally accounted a stern mistress, requir- ing of her followers an untiring devotion at her shrine, and it is rare that her servants find leisure for eminence in any other pursuit ; but with him literary acquisition was pas- time — was recreation ; and long after he had taken his seat upon the bench he studied the French, Italian and Spanish languages without assistance, and could read the two former with considerable facility. The work of some Italian poet was often his companion upon the circuit, and was perused with the eagerness of youthful ardor. With the Latin classics he was familiar, and read them often ; and he urged upon others the importance of recurring to their classical studies, as the best means of acquiring and preserving a pure taste and a good style. But it was not to foreign authors alone that he was at- tached. The study of the English classics was a favorite pursuit. The grave disquisitions of Milton, the sound phi- losophy of Bacon, and the varied richness of Shakspeare, furnished materials upon which he delighted to dwell. Nor was the lighter literature of the day proscribed. Works abounding with anecdote and humor afforded favorite sour- ces of relaxation amid the fatigues of abstruse investigation. Studies and amusements of this character, however, were not permitted to interfere with professional labors and offi- cial duties. The study and practice and administration of the law was the great business of his life ; and to this he brought all the energies of a vigorous mind. He loved it as a sci- ence, and pursued it with delight as well as with diligence. A life of professional labor furnishes but few occurrences which to the great mass of the people would seem worthy of record. There are no startling events to excite wonder. There is nothing of '' pomp and circumstance " to attract SKETCH OF JUDGE RICHARDSON. 67 admiration. But if, on the one hand, there are no " passa- ges of arms " to be celebrated and no victories to be sung, on the other the trophies are not stained with blood, and the notes of wailing and wo mingle not in the chorus. The qualities required for successful exertion in the learned professions may perhaps not be inferior to those which enable their possessor to set a squadron in the field, or to direct the array of a battle ; and Chief Justice Rich- ardson exhibited them in a high degree of perfection. To an unspotted integrity and conscientious faithfulness was added great patience — a most important qualification for such a station ; and a long administration attested that he possessed it in a remarkable degree. Urbane towards the gentlemen of the bar, courteous to witnesses, and extending to litigants an impartiality which often left in doubt his opinion upon contested questions of fact ; a suspicion of attempted fraud, or probability of injustice, roused him to take a decided stand in favor of that side which appeared in danger of sufferingr wrong ; and while cautious to im- press upon a jury the principle that fraud and bad faith were not to be presumed, the tones of indignation with which he denounced them were the consequence of a deep love of justice, and desire that the right should prevail. But while he was thus firm in resisting whatever seemed to savor of injustice, the individual arraigned as a criminal was usually a subject of compassion, and his administration of that branch of judicature was based upon the humane principle, that it is better that many guilty should escape than that one innocent person should suffer. Notwithstanding all the divisions of parties and sects, he commanded general confidence, and his judicial character was summed up in a single short sentence, by a highly re- spectable citizen, when he exclaimed, after musing upon the intelligence of his death — " Well, the good old Judge has gone! " How full of eulogy are these few words ! His had been a long judicial life. He had held the office of chief justice 68 THE NEW- HAMPSHIRE BOOK. nearly twenty-two years. He had lived to witness nearly two entire changes of all his associates, and he was also ap- proaching that period — ''three score years and ten" — which almost marks the limit of human activity, and with us absolutely terminates judicial labor. He might well be spoken of in connexion with the lapse of time. He was aged in the public service. And after such a period of de- votion to the labors of a judicial station — after exerting the best energies of the meridian of existence in the service of his fellow men — when he is at last called upon to surrender up the trust committed to him on earth, what could any in- cumbent of the bench desire from those he leaves behind, more than the character of " the good judge ? " How much is included in it ! Learning, integrity, impartiality, firm- ness, industry, faithfulness, patience — these are all neces- sary to the character of the good judge. Nay, what is not necessary — what is not included in it 1 " Well done, good and faithful servant." There needs nothing more of com- mendation. HYMN OF PRAISE BY CARLOS WILCOX. [Born at Newport, October 22, 1794. Died at Hartford, Connecticut, May 29, 1827. Great is thy goodness, Father of all life, Fount of all joy. Thou high and holy One, Whom not thy glorious sanctuary, heaven, Can e'er contain ; Spirit invisible, Whose omnipresence makes creation smile. Great is thy goodness, worthy of all praise From all thy works. Then let earth, air, and sea ; Nature, with every season in its turn ; The firmament, with its revolving fires ; And all things living ; join to give thee praise. Thou glorious Sun, like thy Original, A vital influence to surrounding worlds, Forever sending forth, yet always full ; And thou, fair Queen of Night, o'er the pure sky, Amid thy glittering company of stars. Walking in brightness, praise the God above. Ocean, forever rolling to and fro In thy vast bed, o'er half the hollowed earth ; Grand theatre of wonders to all lands, And reservoir of blessings, sound his praise. Break forth into a shout of grateful joy. Ye mountains, covered with perennial green. And pouring crystal torrents down your sides ; Ye lofty forests, and ye humble groves ; Ye hills, and plains, and valleys, overspread With flocks and harvests. All ye feathered tribes, That, taught by your Creator, a safe retreat Find in the dead of winter, or enjoy Sweet summer all your days by changing clime, Warble to him all your melodious notes ; To him, who clothes you v/ith your gay attire. And kindles in your fluttering breasts the glow Of love parental. Beasts that graze the fields, Or roam the woods, give honor to the Power That makes you swift to flee, or strong to meet The coming foe ; and rouses you to flight In harmless mirth, or soothes to pleasant rest. Shout to Jehovah with the voice of praise. Ye nations, all ye continents and isles, 70 THE NEW -HAMPSHIRE BOOK. People of every tongue ; ye that within The verdant shade of palm and plantain sit, Feasting on their cool fruit, on torrid plains ; And ye that, in the midst of pine-clad hills, In snowy regions, grateful vigor inhale From every breeze. Ye that inhabit lands Where science, liberty, and plenty dwell, Worship Jehovah in exalted strains. But ye to whom redeeming Mercy comes, With present peace, and promises sublime Of future crowns, and mansions in the skies, Imperishable, raise the loudest song. O sing for ever, with seraphic voice. To Him whose immortality is yours, In the blest union of eternal love ! And join them, all ye winged hosts of heaven. That in your Maker's glory take delight; And ye too, all ye bright inhabitants Of starry worlds ; and let the universe Above, below, around, be filled with praise ! MAUVAISE HONTE. BY OLIVER W. B. PEABODY. In your manhood's gravest hour, As in childhood's season gay, Shall the spell of fatal power Close around you, night and day. Wealth may throw its garlands o'er you. Beauty's charms be bright before you ; Yet unenvied shall you dwell. Fettered by a magic spell. In the ball-room you shall sigh. Losing all your power to frisk, As the victim of his eye Stands before the basilisk. When the jewelled circle glances. Mingling in the mazy dances, Pompeys pillar might as soon Right-and-left or rigadoon. Every moment to your cheek Shall the blood in torrents rush ; Oft as you essay to speak, You shall stammer, stare and blush ; What you would have said, delaying, What you should not, ever saying; While each friend in wonder sits, Mourning your departed wits. When in love, you shall seem cold As the rocks on Zembla's coast : When you labor to be bold. Sparrows might more courage boast. When most gay, most solemn seeming; When .attentive, as if dreaming : Niobe could teach you how You might make a better bow. Ask me not to break the chain, JNever ! slave of destiny : Evermore you must remain Fixed — beyond the power to fly. Darker hours may yet attend you ; Fate a heavier lot may send you ; If my spells should fail to kill. Go ajid marry — if you will. MOUNTAINS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. BY ISAAC HILL. The highest mountains within the known limits of the old thirteen United States are the cluster in New Hampshire called the White Mountains. These mountains are sup- posed to be older than any of the ranges of high mountains in Europe. Mont Blanc and Mont St. Bernard may peer above them, and reach their tops beyond the line of perpetual congelation ; but Mount Washington had been thousands of years in existence before the internal fires upheaved the European Alps. Of the useless things in creation, I had taught myself in early youth to consider ragged mountains and hills as least of all valuable. Fastnesses for the retreat of wild beasts, my first recollections almost identify them with the frightful catamount that tore in pieces the man whom he was able to carry into the limbs of some tree incumbent upon another half way in its fall ; with the bear, who was said to carry off children with which to feed her young ; or with the vora- cious wolf, who would slay an entire flock of sheep some- times in a single night. If these mountains were no longer a nuisance as harbors for wild beasts, the obstacles which they presented to the making of good and easy travelled roads connecting one part of the country with another ; the space which they occupied precluding that easy cultivation which we were wont to see in more level regions, gave them no better aspect than that of incumbrances which must forever be inconvenient to the population which surrounded them. I have changed my mind entirely on this matter ; and if we may be said to grow wiser as we grow older, I have just that kind of conceit of myself which might call for your re- MOUNTAINS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. 73 buke if I am now under a mistake. Perhaps you think of these mountains as I once thought of them. With me when a child stubbing my toes against the rocks or carrying some burden up the steep cliffs, having dreamed of the beauty of a level country where there was not a rock or a hill in the way, you may have been instructed into a poor opinion of our mountains. The mountain region of New England is almost entirely free from those contagious diseases which sweep over the country at each annual return of decayed vegetation. The pure water and the clear mountain air give to her inhabi- tants as good if not better health than is enjoyed by any other people on earth. This is the land of iron constitutions, of noble and beautiful forms, of hearts of steel, of boundless resolution that heeds no obstacle, of enterprise and perse- verance which know no discouragement. What part of the United States, what city upon the Atlantic seaboard, what district of country growing into wealth and respectability in the interior, that is not indebted to New England, to the beautiful hill country of New England, for much of that noble spirit which has hastened them on in the grand march of improvement ? I have entirely changed my mind within the last few years in relation to the most rough country of New England. So far from looking upon the rocks, the pebbles, the gravel or the sand composing them as so much matter in the way adapted to no possible useful service, I see them as the sources of that fertility which is sooner or later destined to make the territory now composing the six New-England States capable of sustaining ten times its present population. On the higher White Mountains no traces of the valuable and useful metals, as yet, have been discovered upon the surface or in the beds excavated by the avalanches. The Indians had a tradition that there were carbuncles and pre- cious gems upon the open grounds of the mountains above the region of vegetation, which were kept from the posses- sion of mortals by the enchantment which surrounded them. 7 74 THE NEW -HA MPS HIRE BOOK. The notion probably originated in the fact that travelling in the sunshine the reflection of isolated rock crystal strikes upon the eye at a distance with dazzling brightness, v/hich entirely disappears on change of position or on approaching to the spot where it was first observed. These appearances are frequent upon the open upper grounds of these moun- tains, and have probably given them the name of the Crys- tal Hills. The mountain streams, particularly those in the northern region of New Hampshire, are rife with salmon trout, a fish of more delicious flavor than any other that sports in Amer- ican waters ; as much superior to the perch and suckers and chubs that are to be found in sluggish pools and streams, as the running water of the cold mountain brook is more grateful to the parched throat than the standing liquid of a summer frog-pond. The sport of trout-fishing among the mountains has an air of romance, tempting the inhabitant of the city to journey many miles for its enjoyment. Those who by instinct or education know how to handle the fly or the minnow ; who can await with patience the reached out arm long in the same position for a " glorious nibble ;" who can leap over log and stump, through bush and brake, an- gling at the turn of an eddy, the tail of a weed-bed, or at the foot of a noisy waterfall, and enjoy the sport with the gusto of Izaak Walton one hundred and fifty years ago; such as these know how to appreciate the pleasures of trout-fishing. The beauty and grandeur of scenery in Scotland or Swit- zerland, or any other country of Europe, cannot exceed that of the mountain region which I have been describing. What magnificent landscape will compare with the different views at the Notch ; — with the Silver Cascade, half a mile from its entrance, issuing from the mountain eight hundred feet above the subjacent valley, passing over almost perpendicularly a series of rocks so little broken as to preserve the appearance of a uniform current, and yet so far disturbed as to be per- fectly white; with the Flume, at no great distance, falling over three precipices from the height of two hundred and MOUNTAINS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. /5 fifty feet, down the two first in a single current, and over the last in three, uniting again at the bottom in a basin formed by the hand of Nature, perhaps by the wearing of the waters, in the rocks ; with the impending rocks directly overhead on either side to a vast height rent asunder by that Power which first upheaved the mountains, leaving barely space for the head stream of the Saco and the road to pass ; with the track of the awful avalanches at no great distance on either side, coming down from the height, throwing rocks, trees and earth across the defile, damming up the stream and forcing it to seek new channels, and covering up or carrying away clean to the surface of the hard rock the long travelled road ! If the eye is not here sated with the grandeur and beauty of the stupendous works of the Almighty, and the changes he has wrought, let the traveller pass into the Franconia Notch, near the source of the Merrimack river, twenty miles southerly of the White Mountain Notch. The Man of the Mountain has long been personated and apostrophized : his covered head is the sure forerunner of the thunder shower or storm ; and in the world of fiction he is made the main agent of the mountain genii, who bewilder and mislead the benighted traveller, and whose lodgement is in the rocky caverns hitherto unfrequented by the human tread. The Profile is perched at the height of more than a thousand feet : the solid rock presents a side view or profile of the human face, every feature of which in the due pro- portion is conspicuous. It is no inanimate profile ; it looks the living man, as if his voice could reach to the proportion- ate distance of its greater size. The Spirit of Liberty dwells upon the mountains and among the hills. Look to the Highlands; to the " Scots who hae vith Wallace bled Scots whom Bruce had often led." Look to Switzeriand, to William Tell, to the Tyrolese, " Where the son? of freedom soundeth ; " 76 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. to the Circassians upon the Caucasus now contending for liberty against the whole power of Russian despotism. Can we find in the plain country of any nation on earth samples of a valorous, a chivalrous, an indomitable spirit such as these 1 Where is the district of country that can present a race of men more devoted to liberty and independence, more courageous and darino-, than those who came from the hill and mountain towns of New England to fight the enemies of the country at Lexington and Bunker Hill ? Such men as Rogers and Stark, in their snow-shoes, in the war of 1756, could do more with a single company of rangers, natives of New-England mountain towns, to keep at bay and annoy the French and savage foe, than Lord Howe's entire com- mand of several thousand British troops. The mountain region of New Hampshire has been denom- inated the Switzerland of America. Our scenery is sur- passed in beauty by no scenery on earth. Coming down from our mountains, I would direct your attention to our beautiful lakes. The eye never traced a more splendid prospect than the view from Red Hill. The view from Mount Washington shows the high mountains around as successive dark waves of the sea at your feet, and all other objects, the villages and sea, as more indistinct from their distance. The view from Red Hill, an elevation of some twenty-five hundred feet, which is gained on horseback, brings all objects distinctly to the naked eye. On the one hand the Winnipiseogee lake, twenty-two miles in length, with its bays and islands and surrounding villages and farms of parti-colored fields, spreads out like a field of glass at the southeast. Loch Lomond with all its splendor and beauty presents no scenery that is not equalled in the envi- rons of the Winnipiseogee. Its suite of hills and mountains serves as a contrast to increase its splendor. We stand upon the higher of the three points of Red Hill, limited every where by regular circular lines and elegant in its figure be- yond most other mountains. The autumnal foliage, over- spreading the ranges of mountains, in the season after vege- MOUNTAINS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. /7 tation has been arrested by the frosts, is a beauty in our scenery that has never been described by any inhabitant of Great Britain, because no such scenery ever there existed. If Mr. Jefferson thought a single point upon the Potomac where that river breaks through the Blue Ridge to be worth to the European observer a voyage across the Atlantic, will it be deemed extravagant if I should say to the inhabitants of a town or city of the United States any where along the At- lantic ocean, that the Notch of the White Hills, the Notch of the Franconia mountains, the Cascade or the Flume, or the Face of the Old Man, or the view from Red Hill, one alone or all together, are worth ten times the expense and labor of a journey of one hundred, five hundred or one thousand miles ? 7* riATTERY FOR AN ALBUM. BY THOMAS G. FESSENDEN. [Bom at Walpole. Died at Boston.] Miss Ann, you are, it seems to me, An essence all ethereal ; The brightest being that can be, Entirely immaterial. A pencil tipped with solar rays Your charms could scarcely blazon ; Contrasted with your beauty's blaze Bright Sol's a pewter basin. Transcendent little sprig of light ! If rhymes are always true, An angel is an ugly sprite Compared to sylph like you. You frowning tell me : " This indeed Is flattery past all bearing ; I ne'er before did hear nor read Of any quite so glaring." Yes, this is flattery, sure enough, And its exaggeration May teach you how to hold such stuff" In utter detestation. Should beaux your ladyship accost With something like this flummery, Tell them their labor will be lost, For this transcends their mummery. The man whose favor 's worth a thought, To flattery can't descend ; The servile sycophant is not Your lover nor your friend. WEST'S PICTURE OF THE INFANT SAMUEL, BY REV. EPHRAIM PEABODY. In childhood's spring — ah ! blessed spring ! (As flowers closed up at even, Unfold in morning's earliest beam,) The heart unfolds to heaven. Ah ! blessed child ! that trustingly Adores, and loves, and fears, And to a Father's voice replies. Speak, Lord ! thy servant hears. When youth shall come — ah ! blessed youth ! If still the pure heart glovi's. And in tlie world and word of God, Its Maker's language knows ; If in the night and in the day, Midst youthful joys or fears, The trusting heart can answer still, Speak, Lord ! thy servant hears. When age shall come — ah ! blessed age ! If in its lengthening shade. When life grows faint, and earthly lights Recede, and sink and fade ; Ah ! blessed age ! if then heaven's light Dawns on the closing eye ; And faith unto the call of God, Can answer. Here am I ! THE PATHEll'S CHOICE BY MRS. SARAH J. HALE. Now fly as flies the rushing wind, Urge, urge thy lagging steed ! The savage yell is fierce behind, And life is on thy speed ; And from those dear ones make thy choice Tlie group he wildly eyed, When " father !" burst from every voice, And " child !" his heart replied. There 's one that now can share his toil, And one he meant for fame. And one that wears her mother's smile, And one that bears her name. And one will prattle on his knee. Or slumber on his breast; And one whose joys of infancy Are still by smiles expressed. They feel no fear while he is near; He '11 shield them from the foe : But oh ! his ear must thrill to hear Their shriekings, should he go. In vain his quivering lips would speak, No words his thoughts allow : There 's burning tears upon his cheek. Death's marble on his brow. •In the year 1697, a body of Indians attacked the town of Haverhill, Massachusetts, killed and carried Into captivity forty inh; . P E A B O D Y . What a history was that of Robert Burns ! From child- hood to maturity, he is condemned by hopeless want to la- bor, till he exhausts a constitution of unusual vigor; his verses are composed and repeated to those around him, while he is following the plough ; but the world goes hard with him, and he resolves to seek in another land the prosperous fortune which his own denies. In order to defray the ex- penses of his voyage, he publishes a collection of his poems ; and then, for the first time, bursts upon the world the knowl- edge of his power. He goes to Edinburgh; there he is courted by the wise, the brilliant, and the gay ; the manly form and flashing eye of the young farmer are the attraction of the glittering saloon, while his conversation is the wonder of the philosophic circle; but these are unprofitable honors ; and his country has no higher permanent reward for him, than the post of an exciseman. The principle, once supe- rior to adverse fortune, melts beneath the morning sun- beams of prosperity ; his prospects are now shrouded in deeper gloom; he retains virtue enough to lament his errors and infirmities, and too much strength of passion to correct them ; instead of submitting to the evils incident to his con- dition, he exhausts his spirit in the vain attempt to war against them, as the imprisoned eagle dashes himself against the iron bars of his cage ; till at length he sinks, in the prime of manhood, into an obscure and almost unhonored grave. Dugald Stewart expressed the opinion, that the intellect of Burns, bold, vigorous and commanding as it was, must BURNS AND C O W P E R . 37 1 / ... have rendered him conspicuous, to whatever subject it might be applied. Others have believed that it was even better adapted to other departments of thought than that to which it was devoted ; but it is on his poetry alone, that his fame will permanently rest. Much of this can be remembered only with regret, as the effusion of a reckless and ungovern- ed spirit, repelling by its coarseness more than it attracts by its power. He was formed for higher purposes than to grovel in rude invective, or to amuse a bacchanalian rabble with licentious songs. His heart was naturally a fountain of generous and manly feeling, whose waters gushed out in a sparkling tide, spreading around them a bright circle of living green. The secret of his attraction is his fidelity to nature. It is by this that he touches the most delicate chords of sympathy ; and where shall we look for a finer example of this power, than in his Cotter's Saturday Night, so familiar, yet how beautiful ! The peasantry of Scotland loved him ; for he invested their feelings and sentiments, their joys and sorrows, with dignity and beauty ; he re- deemed their language from contempt ; he made the heart of every true Scot burn within him, as he thought of the hills and valleys of his native land; he guided the footsteps of the pilgrim to the scenes of her traditional glories ; he sung those glories in such lofty strains, that the world stood still to listen. " When the first shovel-full of earth sounded on his coffin lid," says his biographer, who was present at his funeral, " I looked up and saw tears on many cheeks, where tears were not usual." A just and touching tribute to the bard, who had led the Muses to dwell by the lowly cottage fireside ; who had shown, by testimony not soon to be forgotten, that wherever human nature is, there are the elements of poetry. " Did you never observe," said Gray, ('when rocking winds are piping loud') " that pause when the gust is re-collecting itself, and rising on the air in a shrill and plaintive note, like the swell of an ^olian harp ? I do assure you there is nothing in the world, so like the voice of a spirit." In his better moments, in the pauses of 372 THE N E W - H A M P S II I R E BOOK. the storm, the melody of Burns was like the spirit's voice ; nothing could be more touching or more unaffected than his strain ; but the dark hour, the season of the conflict of his fiery passions, was his most familiar one; then he ran through every mode of the lyre, from the deepest tones of sorrow to the grandest strain of prophecy. With him, poetry was indeed the language of passion. Nature's sternest aspects gave him most delight, because they suited best the prevail- ing habit of his soul. " There is scarcely any earthly ob- ject," says he, "gives me more, — I do not know that I should call it pleasure, — but something which exalts me, something which enraptures me, — than to walk in the shel- tered side of a wood or a high plantation, in a cloudy winter day, and hear the stormy wind howling among the trees, and raving over the plain. It is my best season for devotion; my mind is rapt up in a kind of enthusiasm to Him who, in the language of the Hebrew bard, walks on the wings of the wind." He composed the noble address of Bruce to his army at Bannockburn, while riding in a terrific storm of wind and rain. Would that he had never been unfaithful to na- ture, whether bright with sunshine or dark with storm ! Would that he had never suffered the ashes to gather over his celestial fire ; had never failed to remember, that the noblest way of fame is the way of virtue ! The brief and melancholy career of Burns terminated at the age of thirty-seven ; but there is little probability that, with his fierce spirit and consuming passions, added to the misery of blighted hope, length of days would have much enhanced his renown, or that his later years would have ful- filled the rich promise of the spring. In beautiful contrast with him, stands his contemporary Cowper, — truly a man of God, — held in reverence by all, who love to see high talent in delightful union with the amiable virtues ; by all who can sympathize with a meek and lowly spirit, crushed by the heaviest calamity under which humanity is ever called to suffer, yet always breathing out from the depth of his af- fliction, the accents of love to God and good will to man. BURNS AND COW PER. 373 His multiplied biographies have made his personal history familiar to all readers. Year after year was his fine intel- lect shrouded by insanity, and when the close of life drew nigh, his condition realized the idea of the dark valley of the shadow of death. His peculiar sensitiveness, combined with the infirmities of a very delicate frame, compelled him early to retire from the agitation of the world, into deep se- clusion ; — there, like a river in the wilderness, unseen of man, but reflecting the bright blue sky of heaven from its bosom, his days passed tranquilly away. But his solitude was not the cold and selfish seclusion of the anchorite ; it did not chill the current of his generous affections ; and his sorrows, which were many, melted without hardening his heart. No man had ever a stronger hold on the hearts of those around him ; his unobtrusive charities, his tenderness for others, made his whole life an emblem of the influences of the faith on which his soul was anchored. Nothing can be more touching than the love with which he clung to the remembrance of the mother, whom he lost in infancy ; his allusions to her in his writings, remind us of those address- ed by Pope to the venerable parent, who was spared to wit- ness the noontide glories of his fame. And the memory of Mrs. Unwin, — the excellent friend who watched him through that painful suffering, when the burden of affection ceases to be light and easy, and the love of many waxes cold, — is indissolubly bound with his. Under every aspect, and in all its relations, the character of Cowper may be studied with delight. His genius was as bold and original, as his character was pure and humble. There is not one of the poets of his country, who owed less to those who went before him ; the path in which he adventured was his own, and he trod it with a just and manly confidence in his own powers. His poetry is a faithful transcript of his own thoughts and feel- ings, as his descriptions are living copies of the scenery and objects around him. Sometimes he ventures into the domain of satire ; perhaps too frequently ; though his ridicule is 32 ^74 THE NEW -HA MPS HIRE BOOK. never personal, it is not always in perfect harmony with the prevailing gravity of his theme. He makes no effort to pro- duce effect ; the effect which he does produce arises not from highly wrought passages, but from the general strain and tenor of his writings; indeed, he is so natural and un- pretending, that the very absence of apparent effort some- times causes the reader to lose sight of the extent and ver- satility of his genius. Yet his powers were vast and varied. Now he utters the grand and melancholy warnings of the Hebrew prophets; now his inimitable humor flashes out with singular attraction; presently, familiar scenes are brought most vividly before us in his graphic descriptions. Under all circumstances, he awakens a deep interest in the welfare of his race, and the loftiest aspirations for their intel- lectual and social freedom. Other poets have looked upon religion as the rock of the desert ; Cowper struck that rock as with a prophet's rod, and made it flow with healing wa- ters. He transplanted new subjects into the domain of poe- try, and made them flourish with unwonted beauty. Who, before him, ever called up with such effect the images of domestic life and the recollections of the happy fireside? Who, before him, ever spread over outward nature the chas- tened light of religious feeling, which makes it lovely as our own autumnal landscape, under the sweet influences of the Indian summer 1 The influence of Burns and Cowper has been direct and obvious. As the shades were closing around the eighteenth century, several stars of more than ordinary brilliancy were successively appearing above the horizon. Campbell had already published his Pleasures of Hope, the very best of all his poems ; suggested perhaps by the Pleasures of Memory, of Rogers, which appeared not long before ; and Coleridge, Southey, Wordsworth, and Scott had already exhibited their rich and various powers. It was upon this brilliant circle, that the influence of Burns and Cowper was chiefly mani- fested. Burns laid open the new world of Scottish scenery, BURNS AND COW PER. 375 manners, language, and character, to other and more fortu- nate adventurers, and thus enabled Scott to gather an unfad- ing laurel harvest from the heaths and mountains of his country. It is a circumstance worth remembering, that Burns himself appears to have foreseen the future glory of the mighty minstrel. When Scott was quite a lad, he caught the notice of the poet, by naming the author of some verses, describing a soldier lying dead on the snow. Burns regard- ed the future minstrel with sparkling eyes, and said, " Young man, you have begun to consider these things early." He paused on seeing Scott's flushing face, and shook him by the hand, saying, in a deep tone, " This boy will be heard of yet." Nor was the effect of his lyrical success less strik- ing ; there can be little doubt that the melodies of Moore, which are worth all his other writings put together, were suggested by those, by which Burns did so much for the fame of Scottish minstrelsy. Still less can it be questioned, that the diversified and brilliant character of all the later poets we have mentioned, may in great part be traced to the force and originality of Cowper's example. Of all the po- ets of his time, he is certainly to be regarded with the great- est veneration ; his memory will be the very last to fail. It is well that it should be so ; for his aim was to raise poetry to its proper elevation, by making it the handmaid of high and holy purposes, the nurse of lofty aspirations for virtue and religious purity, and of ardent sympathy with what is free and noble, the enlarger of the intellect, and the purifier of the heart. We do not deem it a vain and idle persua- sion, that the day will come, when her celestial vestments and starry diadem will no more adorn the painted forms of vice and sensuality ; when mankind will no longer do hom- age to the idols of perverted genius. Perhaps all the living generation shall not taste of death, before the eastern sky kindle with the day-spring, that shall herald the coming of an age, when poetry, instead of turning the waters into blood, like the burning mountain of the apocalypse, shall bear 376 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. some faint resemblance to the descending city of the same mysterious vision, over the light of whose towers and pala- ces darkness shall have no dominion, and into whose gates shall enter nothing but the pure and blameless. HARYEST HYMN, BY MRS. EUNICE T. DANIELS. God of the rolling yeaT ! to thee Our songs shall rise — whose bounty pours In many a goodly gift, with free And liberal hand, our autumn stores. No firstlings of our flocks we slay, No soaring clouds of incense rise ; But on thy hallowed shrine we lay Our grateful hearts in sacrifice. Born of thy breath, the lap of spring Was heaped with many a blooming flower ; And smiling summer joyed to bring The sunshine and the gentle shower ; And autumn's rich luxuriance now, The ripening seed— the bursting shell, And golden sheaf and laden bough, The fulness of thy beauty tell. No menial throng, in princely dome. Here wait a titled lord's behest. But many a fair and peaceful home Hath won thy peaceful dove a guest; No groves of palm our fields adorn. No myrtle shades or orange bowers, But rustling meads of golden corn. And fields of waving grain are ours. Safe in thy care, the landscape o'er. Our flocks and herds securely stray ; No tyrant master claims our store. No ruthless robber rends away ; No fierce volcano's withering shower. No fell simoom, with poisonous breath, Nor burning suns, with baleful power, Awake the fiery plagues of death. And here shall rise our songs to thee, Where lengthened vales and pastures he. And streams Iro singing wild and free Beneath a blue New-England sky ; Where ne'er was reared a mortal throne. Where crowned oppressor never trod. Here — at the throne of Heaven alone. Shall man, in reverence, bow to God. 32* DUTY OF THE JUDICIARY. BY JEREMIAH MASON, LL. D. The Constitution of this State, and that of the United States, apparently jealous of the encroaching tendency of the legislative power, have not only defined it with caution and exactness, but have also, in many instances, where from former experience the greatest danger was apprehended, guarded it with special prohibitions. But these " parch- ment barriers " will have little effect, unless carefully guard- ed, and firmly defended by the judiciary. The powers are divided, and granted to separate and independent depart- ments, to the end, that each may, in its turn, be checked and restrained, in any attempt, to exercise powers not grant- ed to it. To restrain the legislative department from over- leaping its boundary, the chief reliance is placed on the Judiciary. That the courts of law, not only have the right, but are bound to entertain questions, and decide on the constitu- tionality of acts of the legislature, though formerly doubted, seems to be now almost universally admitted. But an erro- neous opinion still prevails, to a considerable extent, that the courts, in the discharge of this great and important duty, ought to act, not only with more than ordinary delib- eration, but even with a degree of cautious timidity. The idea is, that these are dangerous subjects for courts, and that they ought not to declare acts of the legislature uncon- stitutional, unless they come to their conclusion, with ab- solute certainty, like that of mathematical demonstration, and where the reasons are so manifest, that none can doubt. A court of law, when examining the doings of a co-ordinate DUTY OF THE JUDICIARY. 379 branch of the government, will always treat it with great decorum. This is proper in itself, and necessary to pre- serve an harmonious understanding between independent departments. So also, it ought to be, after the most care- ful deliberation only, that a proceeding of such co-ordinate branch should be pronounced void, — because the result is always important. But the examination is to be pursued with firmness, and the final decision, as in other cases, must be according to the unbiassed dictate of the understanding. An act of the legislature must, necessarily, have the sanc- tion of the opinion of a majority of a numerous body of men. It cannot therefore be supposed, that the reasons, against the validity of such an act, will ordinarily be so plain and obvious, as to leave no manner of doubt. To require then, that courts shall abstain from declaring acts of the legislature invalid, while a scruple of doubt remains, is nothing less than to demand a surrender of their jurisdic- tion in this particular ; in the due exercise of which consists the chief, if not only efficient security, for the great and fundamental principle of our free governments. Experience shows, that legislatures are in the constant habit of exerting their power to its utmost extent. They intentionally act up to the very verge of their authority : and are seldom re- strained by doubts or timidity. If the courts, fearing a conflict, adopt a course directly opposite, by abandoning their jurisdiction, and retiring whenever a plausible ground of doubt can be suggested, the time cannot be distant, when the legislative department " will draw all power into its im- petuous vortex." The security of private rights is the only valuable and important advantage, which a free government has over a despotic one. If the rights of individuals must be liable to be violated by despotic power, it matters not whether that power rests in the hands of one, or many. Numbers im- pose no restraint, and afford no security. Experience has shown, where all the powers of government have been united, that their being exercised by a numerous assembly, 380 THE NEW- HAMPSHIRE BOOK. has afforded to private rights no security against the gross- est acts of violence and injustice. The legislature can make laws, by which private rights may become forfeited. But the courts of justice are alone competent to adjudge and declare the forfeiture. While the legislative and judicial powers are kept separate, it can never be competent for the legislature, under any pretence what- ever, to take property from one and give it to another, or in any way infringe private rights. Were that permitted, all questions of private right might be speedily determined by legislative orders and decrees ; and there would be no oc- casion for courts of law. The deciding on matters of private right appertains, plain- ly and manifestly, to the judiciary department. It consti- tutes the chief labor of courts of justice. As then one de- partment cannot exercise the powers belonging to another, it follows, that the legislature cannot rightfully assume any part of this jurisdiction, thus belonging to the judiciary de- partment. The province of the legislature is to provide laws, and that of the courts to decide rights, according to the laws. Were the courts to assume the power of making the laws, by which they are to decide, their judgments would be arbitrary. Because, in making the laws, they could have no other rule than their own discretion. So v/hen the legis- lature, whose right it is to make the law, assumes the power of adjudicating, the separate powers of government become united, and a despotism is created. And accordingly, it will be generally found, that where legislatures have attempted to interfere with private rights, they have decided with little or no regard to existing laws, but according to their own arbitrary discretion ; or in other words, by the exercise of despotic power. OUR MOUNTAIN HOMES. WRITTEN AMID MY NATIVE MOUNTAINS, ON THE FOURTH OF JULY. BY MRS. SUSAN R. A. BARNES. The glad, green earth beneath our feet The blue, brigbt heaven is greeting ; And voiceless praise is rising up, Responsive to the meeting ; Yet wherefore wakes a scene like this The warm heart's wild emotion? The slave may boast a home as bright, Beyond the pathless ocean. Why do we love our mountain land.? The murmuring of her waters.'' Italia's clime is far more bland. More beautiful her daughters! Why pine we for our native skies? Our cloud-encircled mountains? The hills of Spain as proudly rise, As freshly burst her fountains ! Alas for mount or classic stream. By deathless memories haunted, For there Oppression, unrebuked. His iron foot hath planted. The curse is on her vine-clad hills, 'T is rife upon her waters. But doubly deep upon her sons. And on her dark-eyed daughters ! Go fling a fetter o'er the mind, And bid the heart be purer ; Unnerve the warrior's lifted arm, And bid his aim be surer. Go bid the weary, prisoned bird Unfurl her powerless pinion. But ask not of the mind to brook The despot's dark dominion ! Why turn we to our mountain homes With more than filial feeling? 'T is here that Freedom's altars rise. And Freedom's sons are kneeling ! 383 THE NEW-HAIVIPSHIRE BOOK Why sigh we not for softer climes ? Why chng to that which bore us ? 'T is here we tread on Freedom's soil, With Freedom's sunshine o'er us ! This is her home — this is her home, The dread of the oppressor; And this her hallowed birth-day is, And millions rise to bless her ! 'T is joy's high sabbath ; grateful hearts Leap gladly in their fountains, And bless our God who fixed the homo Of freedom in the mountains ! VINDICATION OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH DELIVERED AT FANEUIL HALL, BOSTON, OCT. 19, 1841. BY GEORGE BARSTOW. I SHALL pass no eulogium upon New Hampshire. I shall spread before you the page of history, and rest her defence there. If the dead could speak, if the slain could rise from Bunker Hill and Bennington, and all the hard-fought fields of the Revolution, there would be a cloud of witnesses to tell you, that in generous sacrifice of blood and treasure for the cause of American Liberty, New Hampshire was not behind her sister States. She had but little commerce, and was naturally the favorite and pet of the mother coun- try. Notwithstanding this close alliance and strong favor- itism from the crown, she entered into the contest wuth a whole soul ; and never stooped to the vile calculation of her interest in the result. Of the burdens of the revolu- tionary war, she bore one thirty-eighth part ; while her pro- portionate share was but one forty-seventh. When the humble navy of the Revolution consisted of but seven ships, New Hampshire furnished one.* Have her calumniators forgotten that she gave brave M'Clary to die side by side with Warren? Do they forget McNeil, who bears about your streets the wounds and scars of Chippewa? Have they never read of Stark and his militia ? Nor of Langdon and Sullivan, — Gilman and Thornton, — Cilley and Scam- mel, — Poor and Dearborn, — Reid and Whipple, and Miller ? Are they unmindful of the services of New * The Raleigh, launched at Portsmouth, May 21, 177C. 384 THE NEW -HA MPS HIRE BOOK. Hampshire regiments in the brilliant victory at Trenton — beneath the burning sun of Monmouth — and at Stillwater and Saratoga? Do they overlook the New Hampshire troops amidst the sanguinary scenes of Bridgewater ? Search the annals of either war, and you will find that the sons of New Hampshire have contributed their full share to fill up the measure of the country's glory. While such is the testimony of history, if any son of New Hampshire can be found recreant enough still to say that he is ashamed of the State, the State may well be ashamed of Mm. For my own part I glory in such a country, I wish for no prouder satisfaction than to be per- mitted to stand before this vast assembly and plead the cause of my native land. I claim for New Hampshire a share of all that constitutes our national character and honor. If we are known in foreign lands as a gallant, intelligent and powerful people, a part of that reputation belongs to New Hampshire. Memorials of the courage and prowess of her sons are scattered throughout America, and the world. Monuments of her genius adorn every de- partment of learning and invention. If I were to speak of talents alone, throwing aside all party distinctions, it would be sufficient to mention the names of Webster and Woodbury and Cass. If I were called upon for evidences of hardy enterprise, they abound every where. They have passed into proverbs. They may be traced from the winter encampment of the eastern lumberman to the hut of the western pioneer. Go to the army, the halls of Congress, and the learned professions. Is New Hampshire silent there? Follow, if you please, the wildest track of navigation into the polar seas. A New Hampshire mariner has been there before you. But it is unnecessary to wander abroad. Look around here. Call up in long array the fair merchants of Boston. Question them from whence they came. Select only those who are known as upright and generous dealers. Is New Hamp- shire unrepresented among them ? No. And where were VINDICATION OF NEW HAMPSHIRE. lySo the characters of these men formed ? Not in the city of their adoption. Character is always formed in youth ; and theirs was formed and completed in all its energy, bright- ness and purity, before they left their native hills. They brought it here with them. It was perhaps their only capital. With what justice is New Hampshire stigmatized as an " ignorant and benighted region 1 " Enter the public schools. Examine the journals of legislation. You will find that no State has made more judicious and thorough provision for the education of the entire people. She fur- nishes fifteen common schools, with six hundred scholars ; three students in college, and forty students in academies, for every two thousand inhabitants. If there be a log cabin in that State, I assure you it does not stand beyond the reach of public instruction. The poorest boy that comes forth from its rustic portals, enjoys all the advantages of a free school. I have said nothing of seminaries and higher institutions, for I would not dwell upon this subject in de- tail. But this charge of " ignorance and benightedness " has been rung in our ears till it can be borne no longer. It is a false, unfounded charge. It is time that it be silenced forever. The State of which I speak knows little of the splendors or the miseries of crowded cities : " 'Tis a roujh land of earth, and stone, and tree, Wliere breathes no castled lord nor cabined slave." It is inhabited chiefly by husbandmen who till their own fields with their own hands; whose debts and obligations are mainly due to the Power that rules the varied seasons ; whose simplicity of manners and genuine social intercourse might be quoted as an instance of that happy state of society which is the constant theme of poetry. It is true they lead not a life of bloated ease. Their life is one of industry and frugality. But the virtues are all theirs ; for these are companions of toil. Theirs too is freedom of 33 386 THE NEW-HAMPSHIRE BOOK. thought and of action. Who is independent if not the husbandman ? He feels not the vile tyranny of patronage. No lordly dictator can withhold from him the rains and dews of Heaven. However unpopular his opinions may be, the earth will not yield less on that account ; and he fears not to utter his whole mind. Of such men the popu- lation of that State is chiefly composed. They are fearless and free. They love freedom. And should the time ever come when Liberty is driven from the shores of Commerce, she will find a refuge and a resting place among the fast- nesses of the granite hills. New Hampshire was one of the first States to aspire to freedom, and will be among the last to yield it up. A mountainous country, full of narrow defiles and rugged steeps, is the last to be stamped by the heel of Conquest. Liberty makes her last stand in moun- tain passes, and when vanquished in the final contest, as- cends towards heaven, and is seen taking her last flight from the summits of the mountains. NOTES NOTES Hugh Moore. — Mr. Moore was a self-educated man, a practical printer. Most of his pieces were written at an early period of life, and, though deficient in the graces of learning and cultivation, possess much freshness and imagination. They evince a degree of native poetic power, which makes us regret his death, at the early age of 28 years, at a time, too, when he was just about entering upon a station of increased honor and responsibility. It may not be amiss to remark here, how many of our writers of talent and pro- mise have died in the prime of life. Buckminster, Wilcox, Haven, Haines, Abbot, Mrs. Daniels, Ward, Upham, Hildreth, Sarah Smith, and others, died at an age, when most persons have done little for fame ; and a large proportion have been taken away from their labors in the very midst of their growing usefulness. Robert Dinsmoor, the Rustic Bard. — Mr. DinBmoor was born at Londonderry, N. H,, about 1755, and died at Windham, N. H., about 1830, He was of Scotch- Irish descent, and inherited not a little of their strong religious feeling, their humor, and their poetic temperament. At an early age he entered the army of the Revolu- tion, and at its close settled as a farmer in Windham. He possessed not even the advantages of a common school education, and like Burns, of whom he often reminds us, found his inspiration and his subjects in his daily avocations and experiences. In 1829, a volume of his poems was published under the title of his favorite signature, "The Rustic Bard." Mrs. Eunice True Daniels. — The name of Mrs. Daniels, like many others in these pages, is probably unknown to most of our readers, but it merits a high rank in the list of native writers. A " farmer's wife, making no pretensions to superiority over her unassuming neighbors," performing all the duties of her station with exemplary fidelity, her poetical specimens here presented display a beauty, purity, originality and freshness, which, if needing the polish of art, are found only in the productions of true genius. When it is considered, too, that few if any of these pieces were intended for publication ; that they were among her first efforts, and were written under the pressure of household cares, ill health, and bereavements, we sadly think what would have been the full developement and maturity of such a mind, and lament the blight of so rich promise. 390 NOTES. The frequent allusions to the death of her children, which seems to have awakened the poetic inspiration, are very touching, and, as well as the " Spirit Land," were written immediately before her death. But the " Song of the Husbandman," which with the distrust and unconsciousness of genius, she declared " too hastily written " and " very, very faulty," is a noble lyric, and a fitting tribute from a " farmer's wife." In a letter to the editor of the Farmer's Monthly Visiter, she says : " The most potent spell operating upon the mind of man, and stimulating to good and noble exertions, is a spell woven in the sanctuary of home. Let a man go forth from a scene of domestic disorder and discontent, though the sun shine ever so brightly, or the dews fall ever so gratefully, the heart of that man will but ill accord with the harmony of nature. But that man whose house is the theatre of order and useful- ness, whose bosom friend is the treasurer of his purse, presents a striking and happy contrast. Every effort within will be a new incentive to action and energy without, and prosperity the sure result of order, harmony, and concert." Such sentiments are as just and beautiful as the union of high poetic talent and a faithful discharge of household duties is rare and noble. It is the perfection of Woman ; and may our young females not forget the example of Mrs. Daniels. Milton Ward. — Of this writer we possess little information. He died about 1825 at Hanover, N. H., of which place, it is believed, he was a native, at the age of about 20 years. In 1825, a volume of his poems was published under the title of " Poetic Effusions." Most of the pieces were written at the age of 16 years. " The Lyre " is said to have been written at that early age, and must be confessed to be an instance of remarkable precocity. Joseph Dennie. — Mr. Dennie, though not a native of this State, spent here sev- eral years of his life. In 1790, on leaving College, he commenced the study of the law at Charleston, N. H., where after three years he made a successful debut at the bar. He soon removed to Walpole, N. H., but owing to his literary taste and irregu- lar habits, gained little business. In 1796, he became the editor of the " Farmer's Museum," a newspaper published at Walpole, and which became widely celebrated for its wit, talent and originality. Roger Vose, Thomas G. Fessenden, and other gentlemen in and around Walpole, were contributors to its columns, and in them first appeared the series of essays which afterwards, collected and published under the title of the ^' Lay Preacher," became so well known and honorably distinguished in our early literature. John Farmer. — Mr, Farmer was a native of Chelmsford, Mass, but removed to Amherst, N. H., in 1805, at the age of 16. Here he passed five years as a clerk in a store. Hero too he studied medicine for a time, and taught school many years, until constitutional ill health made him an Antiquarian. He became, says one who knew him well, " distinguished above all others for his minute and exact knowledge relating to the early history of New Hampshire, and in general of New England." He died at Concord, N. II., August 13, 1839, in his 50th year, more than 34 of which he spent in this State, and, though an invalid all his life, accomplished an amount of labor which is almost incredible. His N. H. Gazetteer, N. H. Register, Notes to Belknap's History, Town Histories, and Genealogical Register, are monuments of his talent and industry, and are unsurpassed for their peculiar excellences. NOTES. 391 Samuel Tenney Hildreth. — Mr. Hildreth was a man of great promise, and at the time of his death teacher of Elocution in Harvard College. The articles selected were written while he was a member of college, at the age of 18, and he died at the age of 20 years, Charles W. Upham. — He was the son of Gen. Timothy Upham of Portsmouth, and died at the age of 20. The articles selected were not intended for publication, and were written at the age of 18. HIO 89* ^€ .To'" .0'' • % ^ -rfCvVA- ^ ^^ y^ ^ 2 o "^ C*^ ♦ tlA 80 /k'' "*^ 1*^ Peacid'fied using the Bookkeeper process. ^<^^ '^^^MJ/h'=> ^^A" Neutralizing Agent: Magnesium Oxide y "* ^ Treatment Date: ^ ^<^ \^K^ ^^' V -*^ NOV 1998 PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIES. LP. Ill Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111 ^ ^ HECKMAN BINDERY INC DEC88 te,l..V Z.-^^^'^o .< N. MANCHESTER, " '^A A^ ^^^m* "^O 4^ * INDIANA 46962 I J .^ ' SB^^ • ^