661. CATO'S SENATE. Cato. Fathers, we once again are met in counCesar's approach has summon'd us together, [cil. And Rome attends her fate from our resolves. How shall we treat this bold aspiring man? Success still follows him, and backs his crimes. Pharsalia-gave him Rome: Egypt-has since Received his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cesar's. Why should I mention Juba's overthrow, And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning sands. Still smoke with blood. 'Tis time we should decree What course to take. Our foe advances on us, And envies us, even Libya's sultry deserts. Fathers, pronounce your thoughts are they still To hold it out, and fight it to the last? [fixed Or, are your hearts subdued at length, and wro't, By time and ill success, to a submission? Sempronius, speak. Sempronius. My voice is still for war. Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help; Rouse up, for shame! our brothers of Pharsalia Our vain attempts. To urge the foe to battle, Arms have no further use: our country's cause, Cato. Let us appear-nor rash, nor diffident: Betrays-like treason. Let us shun 'em both. 662. GOD IN NATURE.-There is religion in every thing around us a calm and holy religion, in the unbreathing things of nature, which man would do well to imitate. It is a meek and blessed influence, stealing in as it were, unawares upon the heart. It comes quietly, and without excitement. It has no terror, no gloom in its approaches. It does not rouse up the passions; it is untrammeled by the creeds, and unshadowed by the superstitions of man. It is fresh from the hands of its author, glowing from the immediate pres ence of the Great Spirit, which pervades and quickens it. It is written on the arched sky. It looks out from every star. It is on the sailing cloud, and in the invisible wind. It is among the hills and valleys of the earth-where the shrubless mountain-top-pierces the thin atmosphere of eternal winter-or where the mighty forest fluctuates, before the strong wind, with its dark waves of green foliage. It is spread out like a legible language, upon the broad face of the unsleeping ocean. It is the poetry of nature. It is this which uplifts the spirit within us, until it is strong enough to overlook the shadows of our place of prochain that binds us to materiality; and bation; which breaks, link after link, the which opens to our imagination a world of spiritual beauty and holiness. PLAY-PLACE OF EARLY DAYS. Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, The little ones, unbutton'd, glowing hot, 663. PATRICK HENRY'S SPEECH, 1775. No man-thinks more highly, than I do, of the patriotism, as well as the abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen, who have just addressed the house. But, different men-often see the same subject in different lights; and therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen, if, entertaining, as I do, opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I should speak forth my sentiments-freely, and without reserve. This, sir, is no time for ceremony. The question before the house is one of awful moment to this country. For my part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom, or slavery: and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject, ought to be the freedom of debate. It is only in this way we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God, and to our country. Were I to withhold my sentiments, at such a time as this, through fear of giving offence, I should consider myself as guilty of treason toward my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven; whom I revere above all earthly kings. It is natural for man-to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth; and listen-to the song of that syren, till she transforms us-into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for LIBERTY? Are we disposed to be of the number of those, who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things, which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it. insult; our supplications have been disregarded, and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace, and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free; if we mean to preserve, inviolate, those inestimable privileges, for which we have been so long contending; if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle, in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves, never to abandon, until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtainedwe must fight! I repeat it!-sir, we must FIGHT! An appeal to arms, and to the GOD of hosts, is all that is left us. They tell us, sir, that we are weak, unable to cope--with so formidable an adversary But when-shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be-when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength-by irresolution, and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance, by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us-hand-and foot? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means, which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed—in the holy cause of LIBERTY, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible, by any force, which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God,-who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong-alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the BRAVE. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged. Their clanking-may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable-and let it cOME!-I repeat it, sir, let it COME! It is vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry--PEACE-PEACE-but there is NO peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale, that sweeps from the north, will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle! What is it, that gentlemen wish? what would they have? Is life-so-dear, or peace-so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains—and slavery? Forbid it,-Almighty GoD.-I know not what course others may take,--but, as for me, give me LIBERTY,-or give me-DEATH!" 664. AMERICA. I have but one lamp, by which my feet are guided; and that-is the lamp-of EXPERIENCE. I know of no way of judging of the future, but by the past. And, judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been, in the conduct of the British ministry, for the last ten years. to justify those hopes, with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves, and the house? Is it that insidious smile, with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare-to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves-how this gracious reception of our petition--comports with those warlike preparations, which cover our waters, and darken our land. Are fleets, and armies, necessary to a work of love, and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war, and subjugation-the last arguments-to which kings resort. I ask, Still one great clime, in full and free defiance, gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can Yet rears her crest, unconquer'd and sublime, gentlemen assign any other, possible motive for it? Above the fair Atlantic! she has taught Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of Her Esau brethren that the haughty flag, the world, to call for all this accumulation of na-The floating fence of Albion's feebler crag, [bought vies, and armies? No sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over-to bind, and rivet upon us, those chains, which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty, and humble supplication? What terms shall we find, which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done, to avert the storm. which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have IMPLORED its interposition--to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry, and parliament. Our petitions-have been slighted; our remonstrances-have produced additional violence and May strike to those whose red right hands have OF THE DREAD OF REFORM. The true and only reason, for not attempting a reform of the state of things is, that the interest of corruption-requires them to remain as they are. 665. FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS. He, the young and strong, who cherished Who the cross of suffering bore- With a slow and noisless footstep With those deep and tender eyes, Is the spirit's voiceless prayer- If I but remember only Such as these have lived and died! 666. THE WAY TO BE HAPPY. All mankind are brethren. Every human being, who comes in our way, and stands in need of our aid, is entitled to our sympathy. Human nature, and distress, form a legitimate claim to our friendly assistance. We are not to withhold our brotherly affection, from any of our fellow men, because an imaginary line, a river, a ridge of mountains, or a channel of the ocean, may have separated their birth-place from ours; because their manners, customs, and political institutions are not the same with our own; because, by reason of difference of climate, and manner of life, their skin is tinged with a different color; because they offer their tribute of homage to the Creator in a different manner; or, because there is some difference, or shade of difference, between their religious rites, and opinions, and ours. The sentiment of universal benevolenceexpands the heart, humanizes the mind, and fosters every generous affection; but jealousy, malace, hatred, and other malignant passions-pervert the soul, and cramp, and vitiate-the best feelings of our nature. They wage war with every manly, and liberal prin ciple. Instead of sweeping the globe, with the guilty purpose of oppressing the weak, robbing the defenceless, exciting the sound of lamentation in the humble hut, and drawing forth the tears of the widow, and the orphan, let us do what is in our power-to proIn mote the happiness of our fellow men. the genuine spirit of brotherly affection, let us smoke the pipe of peace-with the untutored wanderer of the western wildernessor, partake of bread, and salt, with the hardy native of the African desert. Mankind often complain, that they are unhappy; that they tread in a thorny path, and drink of a bitter stream. But whence do their sufferings, and sorrows flow? Do they not, in a great measure, proceed from their own selfish, and malignant passions? Remove the cause, and the effect will disappear. Banish malice, envy, hatred; let genuine good-will towards each other prevail, and a great portion of human misery -- will fade away, like darkness--before the rising sun. It will dissipate the gloom, which often clouds the countenance, and remove the grief, which often preys upon the heart.-Fergus. EDUCATION. If thou hast plucked a flower Of richest, rarest ray, And borne it from its garden bower, That glittering hoard of worth untold, There is a plant that fears No adverse season's strife, But with an inborn fragrance cheers There is a wealth that foils The robber's roving eye, The guerdon of the mind that toils O ye, whose brows are bright, Seek wisdom's lore sublime, 667. THE PERFECT ORATOR. Imagine to yourselves-a Demosthenes, addressing the most illustrious assembly in the world, upon a point, whereon the fate of the most illustrious of nations depended. How awful such a meeting! how vast the subject! By the power of his eloquence, the augustness of the assembly is lost-in the dignity of the orator; and the importance of the subject, for a while, superseded by the admiration of his talents. With what strength of argument, with what powers of the fancy, with what emotions of the heart, does he assault, and subjugate, the whole man; and, at once, captivate his reason, his imagination, and his passions! To effect this, must be the utmost effort of the most improved state of human nature. Not a faculty that he possesses, but is here exerted to its highest pitch. All his internal powers are at work; all his external, testify their energies. Within, the memory, the fancy, the judgment, the passions, are all busy; without, every muscle, every nerve is exerted; not a feature, not a limb, but speaks. The organs of the body, attuned to the exertions of the mind, thro' the kindred organs of the hearers, instantaneously vibrate those energies-from soul to soul. Notwithstanding the diversity of minds, in such a multitude, by the light. ning of eloquence, they are melted into one mass; the whole assembly, actuated in one and the same way, become, as it were, but one man, and have but one voice. The universal cry is-Let us march against Philip, let us fight for our liberties-let us conquer, or die. 668. WIFE, CHILDREN, AND FRIENDS. When the black-letter'd list to the gods was presented, The list of what fate for each mortal intends, At the long string of ills a kind goddess relented, And slipp'd in three blessings, wife, children, and friends. In vain surly Pluto declared he was cheated, And justice divine could not compass her ends, For earth becomes heaven with wife, children, and friends. If the stock of our bliss is in stranger hands rested, How blest was his home, with wife, children, and friends. But drear is the twilight of age, if it borrow No warmth from the smiles of wife, children and friends. And trust no agent: for beauty is a witch, 669. TIME-NEW YEAR. "Tis midnight's holy hour; and silence, now, Tis a time For memory, and tears. Within the deep, Looking into the fire is very injurious to the eyes, particularly a coal fire. The stimulus of light and heat united, soon destroys the eyes. Looking at molten iron will soon destroy the sight. Reading in the twilight is injurious to the eyes, as they are obliged to make great exertion. Reading or sewing with a side light, injures the eyes, as both eyes should be exposed to an equal degree of light. The reason is, the sympathy between the eyes is so great, that if the pupil of one is dilated by being kept partially in the shade, the one that is most exposed cannot contract itself sufficiently for protection, and will ultimately be injured. Those who wish to preserve their sight, should preserve their general health by correct habits, and give their eyes just work enough, with a due degree of light. 670. AMERICA. I appeal to history! Tell me, thou reverend chronicler of the grave, can all the illusions of ambition realized, can all the wealth of a universal commerce, can all the achievements of successful heroism, or can all the establishments of this world's wisdom, secure to the empire, the permanency of its possessions? Alas! Troy thought so once; yet the land of Priam lives only in song! Thebes thought so once; yet her hundred gates have crumbled, and her very tombs are as the dust they were vainly intended to commemorate! So thought Palmyra-yet where is she? So thought the country of Demosthenes and the Spartan; yet Leonidas is trampled by the timid slave, and Athens insulted by the servile, mindless and enervate Ottoman ! In his hurried march, Time has but looked at their imagined immortality; and all its vanities, from the palace to the tomb, have, with their ruins, erased the very impression of his footsteps! The days of their glory are as if they never had been; and the island, that was then a speck, rude and neglected in the barren ocean, now rivals the ubiquity of their commerce, the glory of their arms, the fame of their philosophy, the eloquence of their senate, and the inspiration of their bards! Who shall say, then, contemplating the past, that England, proud and potent as she appears, may not, one day, be what Athens is, and the young America yet soar to be what Athens was! Who shall say, that, when the European column shall have mouldered, and the night of barbarism obscured its very ruins, that mighty continent may not emerge from the horison to rule, for its time, sovereign of the ascendant!-Phillips. 671. THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. And bid the raging tumult-cease? Lo! from the regions of the north, The reddening storm of battle pours; Rolls along the trembling earth, Fastens on Olynthian towers. "Where rests the sword! where sleep the brave, Awake! Cecropia's ally save, From the fury of the blast; Up! or freedom-breathes her last!" Let us conquer him-or die !" Wast from thy native country driven, When tyranny-eclipsed the sun, And blotted out the stars of heaven. When liberty, from Greece withdrew, And o'er the Adriatic flew, To where the Tiber pours his urn, She struck the rude Tarpeian rock; Sparks were kindled by the shock Again, thy fires began to burn! Now, shining forth, thou madest complaint, Sinking fast, in slavery's arms! Giving vast conceptions birth: Put on religion's bright array; Unfold the garments-rolled in blood! And point the way to heaven-to God.—Carey. THE INFLUENCE OF GOLD. A man who is furnished with arguments from the mint, will convince his antagonist much sooner than one who draws them from reason and philosophy. Gold is a wonderful clearer of the understanding; it dissipates every doubt and scruple in an instant; accommodates itself to the meanest capacities, silences the loud and clamorous, and brings over the most obstinate and inflexible. Philip of Macedon was a man of most invincible reason this way. He refuted by it all the wisdom of Athens, confounded their statesmen, struck their orators dumb, and at length, argued them out of all their liberties.-Addison. THE WORLD TO COME. If all our hopes, and all our fears, Were prisoned-in life's narrow bound; If travelers-through this vale of tears, We saw no better world beyond; Oh! what could check the rising sigh? What earthly thing-could pleasure give? Oh! who would venture then, to dieOr who would venture then-to live? Were life a dark, and desert moor, Where mists-and clouds eternal-spread Their gloomy vail behind, before, And tempests thunder-overhead; Who dwell in darkness-and in death? "Tis this. that makes our darkness, day, "Tis this, that makes our earth-a heaven! Bright is the golden sun above, And beautiful-the flowers, that bloom, And all is joy, and all is love, Reflected--from the world to come! Life is a weary interlude Which doth short joys, long woes include: |