629. PERRY'S VICTORY. Were anything | And those, forsaken of God, and to themselves? wanting, to perpetuate the fame of this vic- The prudent shunned him, and his house, len up tory, it would be sufficiently memorable, from As one, who had a deadly moral plague; the scene where it was fought. This war has And fain all would have shunned him, at the day been distinguished, by new and peculiar char: Of judgment; but in vain. All, who gave ear, acteristics. Naval warfare has been carried into the interior of a continent, and navies, With greediness, or, wittingly, their tongues as if by magic, launched from among the Made herald to his lies, around him wailed; depths of the forest! The bosom of peace- While on his face, thrown back by injured men ful lakes, which, but a short time since, were In characters of ever-blushing shame, scarcely navigated by man, except to be Appeared ten thousand slanders, all his own. skimmed by the light canoe of the savage, have all at once been ploughed by hostile ships. The vast silence, that had reigned, for ages, on these mighty waters, was broken by the thunder of artillery, and the affrighted savage-stared, with amazement, from his Covert, at the sudden apparition of a seafight, amid the solitudes of the wilderness. The peal of war has once sounded on that ake, but probably, will never sound again. The last roar of cannon, that died along her shores, was the expiring note of British domination. Those vast, eternal seas will, perhaps, never again be the separating space, between contending nations; but will be embosomed-within a mighty empire; and this victory, which decided their fate, will stand unrivalled, and alone, deriving lustre, and perpetuity, from its singleness. 630. TRUE FRIENDSHIP. Damon and Py thias, of the Pythagorean sect in philosophy. lived in the time of Dionysius, the tyrant of Their mutual friendship was so Sicily. strong, that they were ready to die for one another. One of the two, (for it is not known which,) being condemned to death, by the tyrant, obtained leave to go into his own country, to settle his affairs, on condition, that the other should consent to be imprisoned in his stead, and put to death for him, if he did not tention of every one, and especially of the tyreturn, before the day of execution. The atrant himself, was excited to the highest pitch. as every body was curious, to see what would be the event of so strange an affair. When the time was almost elapsed, and he who wa gone did not appear; the rashness of the oth In future times, when the shores of Erie shall er, whose sanguine friendship had put him hum with a busy population; when towns, upon running so seemingly desperate a haz and cities, shall brighten, where now, ex-ard, was universally blamed. But he still de tend the dark tangled forest; when ports shall clared, that he had not the least shadow of spread their arms, and lofty barks shall ride, doubt in his mind, of bis friend's fidelity. The event showed how well he knew him. He where now the canoe is fastened to the stake; when the present age shall have grown into came in due time, and surrendered himself to venerable antiquity, and the mists of fable that fate, which he had no reason to think he begin to gather round its history, then, will should escape; and which he did not desire the inhabitants of Canada look back to this to escape, by leaving his friend to suffer ir battle we record, as one of the romantic his place. Such fidelity softened, even the achievements of the days of yore. It will savage heart of Dionysius himself. He parstand first on the page of their local legends, doned the condemned; he gave the tw and in the marvellous tales of the borders. friends to one another, and begged that they The fisherman, as he loiters along the beach, would take himself in for a third. will point to some half-buried cannon, corroded with the rust of time, and will speak of Deep-in the wave, is a coral grove, ocean warriors, that came from the shores of Where the purple mullet, and gold-fish rove, the Atlantic; while the boatman, as he trims Where the sea-flower-spreads its leaves of blue his sail to the breeze, will chant, in rude dit-That never are wet, with fallen dew, ties, the name of Perry, the early hero of Lake Erie.-Irving. THE SLANDERER. 'Twas Slander, filled her mouth, with lying words, THE CORAL GROVE. But in bright and changeful beauty shine, Their bows, where the tides and billows flow; For the winds and the waves are absent there, In the motionless fields of upper air: The sea-flag streams through the silent water, The fan-coral sweeps through the clear deep sea Are bending like corn, on the upland lea: Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, Pride goeth before destruction. Chlorine, and iodine, and aerostatics; 631. BRUTUS' HARANGUE ON CESAR's | Dioptrics, opties, katoptrics, carbon, Exceedingly well versed; and had devoted, None! then none--have I offended. I have done no more to Cesar, than you should do to Brutus. The question of his death-is enrolled in the capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony; who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as, which of you shall not?-With this I depart-that as I slew my best lover-for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death. 632. ACCOMPLISHED YOUNG LADY. As Chinese, Portuguese, or German; and What is still more surprising, she could spel Most of our longest English words, off hand; Was quite familiar in Low Dutch and Spanish, And tho❜t of studying modern Greek and Danish. She sang divinely: and in "Love's young dream,* And Fanny dearest." and "The soldier's bride;" And every song whose dear delightful theme, Is "Love, still love," had oft till midnight tried Her finest, loftiest pigeon-wings of sound, Waking the very watchmen far around.-Halleck. 633. CHARITY. Though I speak-with the tongues of men, and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains. and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Charity-suffereth long, and is kind; charity--envieth not; charity-vaunteth not itself; it is not pulled up; doth not behave itself unseemly; seeketh not her own; is not easily provoked; thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity--never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there That Wallack looked extremely well in Rolla; be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we She fell in love, as all the ladies do, With Mr. Simpson-talked as loudly, too, As any beauty of the highest grade, To the gay circle in the box beside her; And Dr. Chalmers' sermons, of a Sunday; [gundi. know, in part, and we prophecy, in part. But, when that which is perfect, is come, then that, which is in part, shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, 1 understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now, we see through a glass, darkly; but then, face to face: now, I know i pari; but then, shall I know, even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.-St Paul. EARLY RISING AND PRAYER. When first thy eyes unvail, give thy soul leave 634. SAILOR BOY'S DREAM. In slumbers of midnight, the sailor boy lay; His hammock swung loose, at the sport of the wind; Lad the swallow sings sweet, from her nest in the wall; all trembling with transport, he raises the latch, And the voices of loved ones reply to his call. A father bends o'er him, with looks of delight, His cheek is impearled, with a mother's warm tear, With the lips of the maid, whom his bosom holds dear Joy quickens his pulse-all his hardships seem o'er In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss- Shall home, love, or kindred, thy wishes repay; Oh! sailor boy! sailor boy! peace to thy soul.-Dimond. TIME AND ITS CHANGES. Reformation is a work of time. A national taste, however wrong it may be, cannot be totally changed at once; we must yield a little to the prepossession, which has taken hold on the mind, and we may then bring people to adopt what would offend them, if endeavored to be introduced by violence. What's fame a fancied life in other's breath, Mind, not money-makes the man CANTO гi. 635. CHILD HAROLD. I love not man the less, but nature more, What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee- Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime I wantoned with thy breakers-they to me In the dreams of delight, which with ardor we 636. PATRIOTIC TRIUMPH. The citizens of America-celebrate that day, which gave birth to their liberties. The recollection of this event, replete with consequences so beneficial to mankind, swells every heart with joy, and fills every tongue with praise. We celebrate, not the sanguinary exploits of a tyrant, to subjugate, and enslave-millions of his fellow-creatures; we celebrate, neither the birth, nor the coronation, of that phantom, styled a king; but, the resurrection of liberty, the emancipation of mankind, the regeneration of the world. These are the sources of our joy, these the causes of our triumph. We pay no homage at the tomb of kings, to sublime our feelings-we trace no line of illustrious ancesters, to support our dignity-we recur to no usages sanctioned by the authority of the great, to protect our rejoicing; no, we love liberty, we glory in the rights of men, we glory in independence. On whatever part of God's creation a human form pines under chains, there, Americans drop their tears. A dark cloud once shaded this beautiful quarter of the globe. Consternation, for awhile, agitated the hearts of the inhabitants. War desolated our fields, and buried our vales in blood. But the dayspring from on high soon opened upon us its glittering portals. The angel of liberty descending, dropped on Washington's brow, the wreath of victory, and stamped on American freedom, the seal of omnipotence. The darkness is past, and the true light now shines-to enliven, and rejoice mankind. We tread a new earth, in which dwelleth righteousness; and view a new heaven, flaming with inextinguishable stars. Our feet will no more descend into the vale of oppressions; our shoulders will no more bend-under the weight of a foreign domination, as cruel, as it was unjust. Well may we rejoice-at the return of this glorious anniversary; a day dear to every American; a day-to be had in everlasting remembrance; a day, whose light circulates joy-through the hearts of all republicans, and terror through the hearts of all tyrants.-Maxy. 637. TIT FOR TAT: COQUETRY PUNISHED. Whose mirrors-never lie; A clown could take her eye?" The maid design'd to bless; When, from his lips, the fair should learn, At length, one morn, to taste the air, Edgar had nerved his bashful heart, He drove, nor slackened once his reins, Seem'd join'd to skies above: Nor house, nor tree, nor shrub was near The rude and dreary scene to cheer, Nor soul within ten miles to hearAnd still, poor Edgar's silly fear, Forbade to speak of love. At last, one desperate effort broke If she'd become his own. She, tittered in his face; But he should know his place. Of matrimony spring. I never dream'd of such a thing." "The linch-pin's out!" he cried; could rise? 638. RECITATIONS INSTEAD OF THEA- 639. WATERLOO; THE BALL AND BATTLE. TRES. In its present state, the theatre-de- There was a sound of revelry-by night, serves no encouragement. It has nourished And Belgium's capital-hal gathered then intemperance, and all vice. In saying this, Her beauty, and her chivalry; and bright I do not say that the amusement is radically, The lamps shone o'er fair women, and brave mer. essentially evil. I can conceive of a theatre, which would be the noblest of all amuse- A thousand hearts beat happily; and when ments, and would take a high rank, among Music arose, with its voluptuous swell, the means of refining the taste, and elevating Soft eyes looked love, to eyes, which spake again, the character of a people. The deep woes, And all went merry as a marriage-bell; [knell! the mighty, and terrible passions, and the But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising sublime emotions-of genuine tragedy, are titted to thrill us with human sympathies, Did ye not hear it?—No; 'twas but the wind, with profound interest in our nature, with a Or the car, rattling o'er the stony street: consciousness of what man can do, and dare, On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; and suffer, with an awed feeling of the fearful No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet, mysteries of life. The soul of the spectator To chase the glowing hours, with flying feetis stirred from its depths; and the lethargy, But hark! That heavy sound breaks in once more, in which so many live, is roused, at least for a time, to some intenseness of thought, and As if the clouds-its echo would repeat; sensibility. The drama answers a high pur- And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! [roar! pose, when it places us in the presence of the Arm! arm! it is-it is-the cannon's opening most solemn, and striking event of human Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, history, and lays bare to us the human heart, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, in its most powerful, appalling, glorious workings. But how little does the theatre And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago accomplish its end? How often is it disgra- Blushed-at the praise of their own loveliness: And there were sudden partings, such as press ced, by monstrous distortions of human nature, and still more disgraced by profaneness, The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs, coarseness, indelicacy, low wit, such as no Which ne'er might be repeated; for who could woman, worthy of the name, can hear with- If ever more should meet, those mutual eyes, (guess, out a blush, and no man can take pleasure Since upon night, so sweet, such awful morn in-without self-degradation. Is it possible, that a christian, and a refined people, can resort to theatres, where exhibitions of dancing are given, fit only for brothels, and where the most licentious class in the community throng, unconcealed, to tempt, and destroy That the theatre should be suffered to exist, in its present degradation, is a reproach to the community. Were it to fall, a better drama might spring up in its place. In the meantime, is there not an amusement, having an affinity with the drama, which might be usefully introduced among us? I mean, Recitations. A work of genius, recited by a man of fine taste, enthusiasm, and powers of elocution, is a very pure, and high gratification. Were this art cultivated, and encouraged, great numbers, now insensible to the most beautiful compositions, might be waked up to their excellence, and power. It is not easy to conceive of a more effectual way, of spreading a refined taste through a community. The drama, undoubtedly, appeals more strongly to the passions than recitation; but the latter brings out the meaning of the author more. Shakspeare, worthily recited, would be better understood than on the stage. Then, in recitation, we escape the weariness of listening to poor performers; who, after all, fill up most of the time at the theatre. Recitations, sufficiently varied, so as to include pieces of chaste wit, as well of pathos, beauty and sublinity, is adapted to our present intellectual progress, as much as the drama falls below it. Should this exhibition be introduced among us successfully, the result would be, that the power of recitation would be extensively called forth, and this would be added to our social, and domestic pleasures. Thou knowest but little, If thou dost think true virtue-is confined And there was mounting in hot haste; the steed, And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, blent! What's in the air? Some subtle spirit-runs through all my veins, When things go wrong, each fool presumes t' ad- |