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of a man, in whom the sensibility to the beautiful is not chers' ished; and I know of no condition in life from which it should be excluded.

[From the same.]

BOOKS. It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse with superior minds; and these invaluable means of communication are in the hands of all. In the best books, great men talk to us, give us their most precious thoughts, and pour their souls into Cours. God be thanked for books! They are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past ages. Books are the true levellers. They give to all who will faithfully use them the society, the spiritual presence, of the best and greatest of our race. No matter how poor I am. No matter though the prosperous of my own time will not enter my obscure dwelling. If the sacred writers will enter, and take up their abode under my roof; if Milton will cross my threshold, to sing to me of Paradise ; and Shakspeare, to open to me the worlds of imagination, and the workings of the human heart; and Franklin, to enrich me with his practical wisdom, I shall not pine for want of intellectual companionship, and I may become a cultivated man, though excluded from what is called the best society in the place where I live.

DANIEL WEBSTER. 1782-. Mr. Webster is the son of a respectable farmer of New Hampshire. He graduated at the age of about twenty, and established himself in the practice of law, first in Boscawen, and afterwards in Portsmouth, N. H. At the age of thirty, he became a member of Congress, in which office he has continued, with few interruptions, ever since, holding the first rank as an orator, and an expounder and supporter of the constitution of the Union.

(From a Speech at laying the Corner-stone of Bunker Hill Monument.} { TO THE SURVIVORS OF THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL.

reperi VENERABLE MEN! You have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out

your lives, that you might behold this joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife of your country. Behold how altered! The same heavens are indeed over your heads; the same ocean rolls at your feet; but all else, how changed! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon; you see no mixed volumes of smoke and flame rising from burning Charlestown; the ground strewed with the dead and the dying; the impetuous charge; the steady and successful repulse; the loud call to repeated assault; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant, to whatever of terror there may be in war or death ; — all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives, and children, and countrymen, in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented you to-day with the sight of its whole happy population come out to welcome and greet you with a universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position appropriately lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoyance to you, but your country's own means of distinction and defence. All is peace; and God has granted you this sight of your country's happiness, ere you slumber in the grave forever. He has allowed you to behold and to partake the rewards of your patriotic toils; and he has allowed us, your sons and countrymen, to meet you here, and, in the name of the present generation, in the name of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you!

But, alas! you are not all here! Time and the sword have thinned your minks. Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Reed, Pomeroy, Bridge! our eyes seek for you in vain amidst this broken band. You are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your country in her grateful remembrance, and in your own bright example. But let us not too much grieve that you have met the common fate of men. You lived, at least, long enough to know that your work had been nobly and successfully

accomplished. You lived to see your country's independence established, and to sheathe your swords from war. On the light of Liberty, you saw arise the light of Peace, like

“ Another morn, Bisen on mid-noon;" —

and the sky on which you closed your eyes was cloudless.

But - ah! Him! the first great martyr in this great cause! Him! the premature victim of his own self-devoting heart! Him! the head of our civil councils, and the destined leader of our mil. itary bands; whom nothing brought hither but the unquenchable fire of his own spirit; him! cut off by Providence in the hour of overwhelming anxiety and thick gloom; falling ere he saw the star of his country rise; pouring out his generous blood like water, before he knew whether it would fertilize a land of freedom or of bondage !- how shall I struggle with the emotions that stifle the utterance of thy name ? — Our poor work may perish, but thine shall endure! This monument may moulder away; the solid ground it rests upon may sink down to a level with the sea; but thy memory shall not fail! Wheresoever among men a heart shall be found that beats to the transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim kindred with thy spirit! * * *

Veterans ! you are the remnant of many a well-fought field. You bring with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, from Yorktown, Camden, Bennington and Saratoga, Veterans of half a century! when, in your youthful days, you put everything at hazard in your country's cause, good as that cause was, and sanguine as youth is, still your fondest hopes, did not stretch onward to an hour like this. At a period to which you could not reasonably have expected to arrive, - at a moment of national prosperity such as you could never have foreseen, - you are now met here to enjoy the fellowship of old. soldiers, and to receive the overflowings of a universal gratitude,

But your agitated countenances, and your heaving breasts, inform me that even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that a tumult of contending feelings rushes upon you. The

images of the dead, as well as the persons of the living, throng to your embraces. The scene overwhelms you, and I turn from it. May the Father of all mercies smile upon your declining years, and bless them! And when you shall have exchanged your embraces, — when you shall have once more pressed the hands which have been so often extended to give succor in adversity, or grasped in the exultation of victory, — then look abroad into this lovely land, which your young valor defended, and mark the happiness with which it is filled; yea, look abroad into the whole earth, and see what a name you have contributed to give to your country, and what a praise you have added to freedom; and then rejoice in the sympathy and gratitude which beam upon your last days from the improved condition of mankind.

[From a Speech on Mr. Fool's Resolution.] IMPORTANCE OF PRESERVING THE UNION. · I PROfess, sir, 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 indebied for whatever makes 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 proofs of its utility and its blessings; and although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population spread further and further, they have not outrun its protection, or its benefits. It has been to us all a copious fountain of national, social and personal happiness.

I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the Union, to see what might be 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 aceustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, 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 mainly 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 throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, not a single star obscured, bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, “What is all this worth ?" nor those other words of delusion and folly, — “Liberty first, and union afterward," — but everywhere, 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 forever, one and inseparable !

WASHINGTON IRVING. 1783-.

Mr. Irving was born in the city of New York, but a large portion of his time has been spent in Europe. Early in life, he was engaged in business — was in affluent circumstances, and employed himself in literary pursuits only as an amusement; but meeting with a reverse of fortune, he made literature his profession. His reputation as one of the first of American authors is well understood, and his charming works are too well known to require enumeration here. Mr. Irving

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