ing the applause due to her, they make great addition to it. They owed, all of them, their adyacenient to két choice; they we were supported by her constancy; and, with all their abilities, they were never able to acquire any unghie ascendant over her. In her family, in her court, in her kingdom, she remained equally mistress; the force of the tender passions was greaty over her, but the force of hey ming was still superior; and the combat which her victory visibly cost her serves only to display the firmness of her resolution, and the loftiness of her ambitious sentiments. Theniony

The fame of this princess, though it has surmounted the prējudices both of faction and bigotry, yet lies still exposed to another prejudice, which is more durable, begause more natural, and which, according to the different views in which we survey her, is capable either of exalting beyond measure, or diminishing the lustre of her character. This prejudice is founded on the consideration of her sextinde old

When we contemplates her as a woman, we are apt to be struck with the highest admiration of her great qualities and extensive capacity, but we are also apt to require some more softness of disposition, some greater lenity of temper, some of those amiable weaknesses by which her sex is distinguished. But the true method of estimating her merit is, to lay aside all these considerations, and consider her merely as a rational being, placed in authority, and intrusted with the government of mankind.

celebrated 3. HOWARD,ET THE PHILANTHROPIST. - Burke. A nd you t

9200 dicende He has visited all Europe - not to survey the sumptuousness of palaces, or the stateliness of temples; not to make accuratat ' measurements of the remains of ancient grandeur, nor to form a

scale of the curiosities of modern art, nor to collect medals, or collate mănuscripts ;100 but to dive into the depths of dungeons, to plunge into the infection of hospitals, to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain; to take the gauges and dimensions of misery, depression, and contempt; to remember the forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the forsaken, and compare and collate the distresses of all men in all countries. His plan is original; it is as full of genius as of humanity. It was a voyage of discovery; a circumnavigation of charity.

It is impossible to refuse to Milton the honor due to a life of the sincerest piety and the most dignifie à virtue. No man ever lived under a more abiding sense of responsibility. No man ever

strove more faithfully to use time and talent“ as ever in the great
Taskmaster's eye." No man so richly endotea was ever less
ready to trust in his own powers, or more prompt to own his de-
pendence on “that eternal and propitial throne, where nothing is
readier than grace and refuge to the distresses of mortal suppli-
ants." His morality was of the loftiest order. He possessed å
self-control which, in one susceptible of such ve’hement emotions,
was marvellous. No one ever saw him indulging in those pro-

pensities which overcloud the mind and polluteto the heart.
čia bus No youthful excesses treasured up for him a suffering and

remorseful old age. From his youth up he was temperate in all
things, as became one who had consecrated himself to a life
struggle against vice, and error, and darkness, in all their forms.
He had started with the conviction “that he who would not

vendable
be frustrates of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable
things, ought himself to be a true poem; that is, a composition
and pattern of the best and honorablest things;” and from this he
never swerved. His life was indeed a true poem; or it might be
compared to an anthem on his own favorite organ — high-toned,
solemn, and majestic.

mln wie sea ? 2,13 e derit

5. WASHINGTON. – Webster.
The character of Washington"is among the most cherished
contemplations of my life. It is a fixed star in the firmament of
great names, shining without twinkling or obscuration, with clear,
steady, beneficent light. It is associated and blended with all
our reflections on those things which are near and dear to us
If we think of the independence of our country, we think of him
whose efforts were so prominent in Khidung it; if we think of
the constitution which is over us, we think of him who did so
much to establish it, and whose administration of its powers is
acknowledged to be a model for his successors. If we think of
glory in the field, of wisdom in the cabinet, Et of the purest pātri.
otisın, of the highest integrity, public and private, of morals with-
out a stain, of religious feelings without intolerance and without
extravagance, the augusti figure of Washington presents itself as
the personation of all these ideas.
counterfint

real

true

. LXII. -- ON THE ABUSE OF GENIUS. ,
1. I HAVE endeavored to show, that the intrinsic value of
genius iš a secondary consideration, compared to the use to which
it is applied ; that genius ought to be estimated chiefly by the

character of the subject upon which it is employed, or of the
cause which it advocates; that it should be considered, in fact,
as a more instrument, a weapon, a sword, which may be used
in a good cause, or in a bad one; may be wieljica by a patriot,
or a highwayman; may give protection to the dearest interests
of sociëty, or may threaten those interests with the irruption of
pride, and profligacy, and folly, -of all the vices which compose
the curse anumefradation of our species, wheneto

2. I am the more disposed to dwell a little upon this subject,
because I am persuaded that it is not sufficiently attended to, 132

- nay, that in ninety-nine instances out of a hundred it is not
attended to at all ;140 — that works of imagination are perused
for the sake of the wit which they display; which wit not only
reconciles us to, but endears to us, opinions, and feelings, and
habits, at war with wisdom and morality, — to say nothing of
religion ;- in short, that we admire the polish, the temper, and
shape of the sword, and the dexterity with which it is wielded,

though it is the property of a lūnătic, or of a brāvo ; though it is
prebrandished in the face of wisdom and virtue; and, at every

wheel,103 threatens to inflict a wound that will disfigure some
feature, or lop some member; or, with masterly adroitness, aims
a death-thrust at the heart!

3. I would deprive genius of the worship that is paid to it
for its own sake. Instead of allowing it to dictate to the world,
I would have the world dictate to it, - dictate to it so far as
the vital interests of society are affected. I know it is the
opinion of many that the moral of mere poëtry is of little avail ;

that we are charmed by its melody and wit, and uninjured by its yulevity and profaneness; and hence many, a thing has been tar

allowed in poetry, which would have been scouted, deprecated,
rejected, had it appeared in prose; as if vice and folly were
less pernicious for being introduced to us with an elegant and
insinuating address; or as if the graceful folds and polished
scales of a serpent were án antidote against the venom of its
sting.

productive fuitfuc.
4. There is not a more prolific source of human error than
that railing at the world which obtrudes itself so frequently upon
our attention in the perusing of Lord Byron's poems, – that
sickness of disgust which begins its indecent heavings whensoever
the ideä of the species forces itself upon him. The species is not
perfect; but it retains too much of the image of its Maker, pre-
serves too many evidonces of the modelling of the Hand that
fashioned it, is too near to the hovering providence of its disre«
garded but still cherishing Author, to excuse, far less to call for,

astful

8 abandomn

- refronches or justify, desertion, or digclaiming, or revilings upon the part of any one of its members. sorrowful

5. I know no more pitiable object than the man who standa ing upon the pigmy eminence of his own self-importance, looks around upon the species with an eye that never throws a beam of satisfaction on the prospect, but visits with a scowl whgtsoever it lights upon. The world is not that reprobāte world, that it should be cut off from the visitation of charity; that it should be represented as having no alternative but to inflict or bear. Life is not one continued scene of wrestling with our fellows. Mankindet are not forever grappling one another by the throat. There is such a thing as the grăsp of friendship, as the outstretched hand of benevolence, as an interchange of good offices, as a miagling, a crowding, a straining together for the relief or the benefit of our species. infeases

6. The moral he thus inculcates is one of the most baneful tendency. The principle of self-love, - implanted in us for the best, but capable of being perverted to the worst of purposes, — by a fatal abuse, too often disposes us to indulge in this sweeping depreciation of the species; a depreciation founded upon some Fallacious idea of superior value in ourselves, with which imaginary excellence we conceive the world to be at war. A greater source of error cannot exist.

KNOWLES. . Audreddare

LXIII. — CREATION
1. THE spacious firmament91 on high,

With all the blue ethereäl146 sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
The unwearied sun from day to day
Does his Creator's power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty Hand.

2. Soon as the evening shades prevail,

The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth;
Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

3. What, though in solemn" silence ali
Move round this dark terrestria ball ?

What, though no real voice nor sound
Amid their radiant orbs be found ?
In Reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice ;
Forever singing, as they shine,
“ The Hand that made us is Divine."

ADDISON

LXIV. - ASTRONOMY AND IMMORTALITY.

Part First. 1. The planet on which we live is twenty-five thousand miles in circum'ferěnce, and its surface is diversified and adorned with oceans, continents, and islands, — with mountains, valleys, forests, and rivers; and over all is stretched the glorious cănópy of the heavens, forever lovely with the golden light of the stars. The distance of the earth from the sun is, in round numbers, one hundred millions of miles; which is, of course, the rādius El or semi-diăm'ěterel of its orbit. EI

2. This orbit, therefore, reaches through a circuit42 of six hundred millions of miles, along which the earth passes at the rate of seventy thousand miles an hour. And it should be remembered that this earth of ours, instead of heing something con'trary to the visible heavens, is a portion of them; so that we are as truly in the heavens where we are, as we could be in any other point of space.

3. We are at this moment more than thirty-five thousand miles distant from the point in space where we were thirty minutes ago. We have actually travelled thirty-five. thousand miles, beside being carried by the diurnal motion of the earth five hundred miles further east than we were half an hour ago ! It is difficult to feel the reality of this, and yet it is as certain as £gures.

4. Neptūne, the outermost body of our solar family, is thirty times as far from the sun as we are, or three thousand millions of miles. From this we mount to the nearest fixed star, or the sun in our cluster next to us; and that is twenty millions of mil. lions of miles distant from the earth.

5. And over this space it takes the light more than three years to come to us, travelling at the rate of two hundred thousand miles in a second. How overwhelming the thought! And yet this star is only the first mile-stone on the great highway that stretches along the measureless abysses of space.

6. This whole firmament of ours, including the Milky Way