were new, with the fragrance of flowers I had never before seen, and the music of birds whose notes had never before struck my ear and thrilled my heart.

When I had reached the top of a broad, swelling, ver5 dant hill, about one and a half mile from the town, I took my position upon the top of a hedge bank. The town and the harbor were before me; and all around were the neat white-washed, straw-thatched cottages, and blooming gardens, and velvet-like fields, enclosed with green and 10 flowering hedges, and shaded with deep verdant trees, and enlivened with gay birds, which alone, of all animated beings seemed, with inanimate nature, to have caught the spirit of the morning, and to be sympathizing and-vying with each other in the worship of their Maker.

15

I had not stood there long before I enjoyed the principal object of my search. It was the morning lark, rising and singing towards heaven,-just as Jeremy Taylor has so beautifully described it to our imaginations. I could not have had a better exhibition of it. It satisfied, and more 20 than satisfied, my previous, and most pleasing conceptions of it. I saw one rise, and watched its ascent, and listened to its song, till it was entirely above and beyond my sight. I could only hear its note, more soft, more sweet as it was nearer the home of the blest, and the object of its praise, 25 the throne of its God.

I could think of nothing but of some returning angel, or of some sainted spirit released from its service below, and springing from the earth, gaily ascending higher and higher, singing more and more joyously, and resting not 30 from its song or its flight, till it folds its wing and rests its foot by the throne of Him who made it. I could still hear its note, and still I gazed after it, and presently discerned its form, and saw it descend; but its descent was, if possible, more beautiful than its ascent. It returned to 35 earth with such a graceful and easy motion, it seemed as if conscious that it could, at any time, rise again.

I did not intend to give you any description of this hour or of this scene; and you can have no idea of it now. It was altogether the happiest hour I have enjoyed since I 40 left my native land. I returned to my lodgings, satisfied, -filled, and feeling as if I had had a glimpse, and caught a note, of heaven.

LESSON CXLV. A DIALOGUE THE DREAM OF CLARENCE.

195

Shakspeare.

[Clarence and Brakenbury in the Tower.]

Brakenbury. Why looks your grace so heavily to-day?
Clarence. Oh! I have passed a miserable night,
So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights,

That as I am a Christian, faithful man,

5 I would not spend another such a night, Though 't were to buy a world of happy days; So full of dismal terror was the time.

10

Brak. What was your dream, my lord? I pray you

me.

Clar. Methought that I had broken from the tower,
And was embarked to cross to Burgundy;

And, in my company, my brother Gloster;
Who from my cabin tempted me to walk

Upon the hatches; thence we looked towards England,
15 And cited up a thousand heavy times,
During the wars of York and Lancaster,
That had befallen us. As we paced along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
Methought that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling,
20 Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard
Into the tumbling billows of the main.

O Lord! methought what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of water in mine ears!
What sights of ugly death within mine eyes!
25 Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand men, that fishes gnawed upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,

All scattered in the bottom of the sea.

30 Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes,
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept
(As 't were in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems,
That wooed the slimy bottom of the deep,
And mocked the dead bones that lay scattered by.
Brak. Had you such leisure in the time of death,

35

To gaze upon these secrets of the deep?

Clar. Methought I had; and often did I strive
To yield the ghost; but still the envious flood
Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth

tell

5

To seek the empty vast, and wandering air;
But smothered it within my panting bulk,
Which almost burst to belch it in the sea.

Brak. Awaked you not with this sore agony?
Clar. Oh! no, my dream was lengthened after life.
Oh! then began the tempest to my soul!

I passed, methought, the melancholy flood,
With that grim ferryman which poets write of,
Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.

10 The first that there did greet my stranger soul
Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick;
Who cried aloud, What scourge for perjury
Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?
And so he vanished: Then came wandering by
15 A shadow like an angel, with bright hair

Dabbled in blood; and he shrieked out aloud,
Clarence is come-false, fleeting, perjured Clarence—
That stabbed me in the field by Tewksbury;
Seize on him, furies, take him to your torments!
20 With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends
Environed me, and howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise,
I trembling waked, and, for a season after,
Could not believe but that I was in hell:
25 Such terrible impression made my dream.

Brak. No marvel, lord, though it affrighted you;
I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.

Clar. O, Brakenbury, I have done these things,That now give evidence against my soul,

30 For Edward's sake, and, see, how he requites me! O, God, if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds,

Yet execute thy wrath on me alone;

Oh! spare my guiltless wife, and my poor children!

35 I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me;

My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.

Brak. I will, my lord; God give your grace good rest!

[Clarence reposes on a chair.

Sorrow breaks seasons; and reposing hours

Make the night morning, and the noon-tide night.

LESSON CXLVI.-NEW ENGLAND FREEDOM AND ENTERPRISE.-
JOSIAH QUINCY.

146

If, after a general survey of the surface of New England, we cast our eyes on its cities and great towns, with what wonder should we behold, did not familiarity render the phenomenon almost unnoticed, men, combined in great 5 multitudes, possessing freedom and the consciousness of strength, the comparative physical power of the ruler less than that of a cobweb across a lion's path,-yet orderly, obedient, and respectful to authority; a people, but no populace; every class in reality existing, which the gene10 ral law of society acknowledges, except one, and this exception characterizing the whole country. The soil of New England is trodden by no slave. In our streets, in our assemblies, in the halls of election and legislation, men of every rank and condition meet, and unite or divide on 15 other principles, and are actuated by other motives, than those growing out of such distinctions.

The fears and jealousies, which in other countries separate classes of men, and make them hostile to each other, have here no influence, or a very limited one. Each indi20 vidual, of whatever condition, has the consciousness of living under known laws, which secure equal rights, and guarantee to each whatever portion of the goods of life, be it great or small, chance, or talent, or industry, may have bestowed. All perceive, that the honors and rewards of society 25 are open equally to the fair competition of all; that the distinctions of wealth, or of power, are not fixed in families; that whatever of this nature exists to-day, may be changed tomorrow, or, in a coming generation, be absolutely reversed. Common principles, interests, hopes, and affections, are the 30 result of universal education. Such are the consequences of the equality of rights, and of the provisions for the general diffusion of knowledge and the distribution of intestate estates, established by the laws framed by the earliest emigrants to New England.

35

If, from our cities, we turn to survey the wide expanse of the interior, how do the effects of the institutions and example of our early ancestors appear, in all the local comfort and accommodation which mark the general condition of the whole country;-unobtrusive, indeed, but substan40 tial; in nothing splendid, but in every thing sufficient and satisfactory. Indications of active talent and practical energy, exist everywhere. With a soil comparatively little

luxuriant, and, in great proportion, either rock, or hill, or sand, the skill and industry of man are seen triumphing over the obstacles of nature; making the rock the guardian of the field; moulding the granite, as though it were clay; 5 leading cultivation to the hill-top, and spreading over the arid plain, hitherto unknown and unanticipated harvests.

The lofty mansion of the prosperous, adjoins the lowly dwelling of the husbandman; their respective inmates are in the daily interchange of civility, sympathy, and respect. 10 Enterprise and skill, which once held chief affinity with the ocean or the sea-board, now begin to delight the interior, haunting our rivers, where the music of the waterfall, with powers more attractive than those of the fabled harp of Orpheus, collects around it intellectual man and mate15 rial nature. Towns and cities, civilized and happy communities, rise, like exhalations, on rocks and in forests, till the deep and far-resounding voice of the neighboring torrent is itself lost and unheard, amid the predominating noise of successful and rejoicing labor.

.

147

ATHERTON.

Our forefathers came to this land, seeking refuge from oppression. Despised and insulted by the haughty arbiters of the old world, that meek and suffering, but hardy and faithful band brought to inhospitable and savage 5 shores, their household gods, their principles, their hopes. They were wafted hither by no prosperous gales of royal favor:-no lofty patronage protected their humble troop.

The same spirit which led them here,-which supported them under trials and privations almost insupportable,10 which nerved their souls against the attacks of hunger, want and savage enemies, this same spirit flowed down to their descendants, and became a part of their being. It was the same spirit which in them prompted resistance to unwarrantable assumptions on the part of the parent coun15 try, and the renunciation of an allegiance that no longer promised protection. It was the same spirit, that, throughout their struggle, nerved their arms and braced their souls, and led them to resolve, to use the words of one of their most able writers, "that wheresoever, whensoever, 20 and howsoever, they might be called to make their exit, they would die free men!"