believe that the difference between the conspicuous and the obscure does not amount to much. Influence is to be measured, not by the extent of purpose it covers, but by its kind. A man may spread his mind, his feelings and opinions, through a great extent; but if his mind be a low one, he manifests no greatness. A wretched artist may fill a city with daubs, and by a false, showy style achieve a reputation; but a man of genius, who leaves behind him one grand picture, in which immortal beauty is imbodied, and which is silently to spread a true taste in his art, exerts an incomparably higher influence. Now, the noblest influence on earth is that exerted on character; and he who puts forth this does a great work, no matter how narrow or obscure his sphere. The father and mother of an unnoticed family, who, in their seclusion, awaken the mind of one child to the idea and ove of perfect goodness, who awaken in him a strength of will to repel all temptation, and who send him out prepared to profit by the conflicts of life, surpass, in influence, a Napoleon breaking the world to his sway. And not only is their work higher in kind, — who knows but that they are doing a greater work, even as to extent or surface, than the conqueror? Who knows but that the being, whom they inspire with holy and disinterested principles, may communicate aimself to others? and that, by a spreading agency, of which hey were the silent origin, improvements may spread through ▲ nation, - through a world ? CHANNING. THE poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven. The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 53. Vanoc's Patriotism. Vanoc. Now, tribune. Valens. Health to Vanoc. Van. Speak your business. Val. I come not as a herald, but a friend; And I rejoice that Didus chose out me To greet a prince, in my esteem the foremost. Van. So much for words. Now to your purpose, tribune. Val. Sent by our new lieutenant, who in Rome, Past enmities; to strike perpetual league With Vanoc, whom our emperor invites To terms of friendship, strictest bonds of union. Van. We must not hold a friendship with the Romans Val. Why must you not? Van. Virtue forbids it. Val. Once You thought our friendship was your greatest glory. Val. Believe me, prince, your vehemence of spirit, Van. O, I have scanned it thoroughly. Night and day, I think it over, and I think it base, Most infamous, let who will judge — but Romans. Val. At first, the Romans did not interpose, Van. To moderate! What would you moderate?—my indignation ? Must I ask leave, Must I be taught to govern my own household?` Am I then void of reason and of justice? When in my family offences rise, Shall strangers, saucy intermeddlers, say, When I am tamed to that degree of slavery, Val. Prince, you insult upon this day's success. I give your anger scope Van. Who shall confine it? The Romans? Let them rule their slaves. I blush Val. Blush rather that you are a slave to passion, Subservient to the wildness of your will, Which, like a whirlwind, tears up all your virtues, Did not the Romans civilize you ? Van. No. They brought new customs and new vice over, Taught us more arts than honest men require, And gave us wants that nature never knew. Van. And you found us free. Val. Would you be temperate once, and hear me out Van. Speak things that honest men may hear with temper; Speak the plain truth, and varnish not your crimes. Say that you once were virtuous-long ago A frugal, hardy people, like the Britons, And gave your luxuries the name of virtues. The civilizers! - the disturbers, say; The robbers, the corrupters of mankind! Proud vagabonds! who make the world your home, What virtue have you taught? Val. Humanity. Van. O, patience! Val. Can you disown a truth confessed by all? most courteous tyrants; Van. Prevaricating — false Came you then here, thus far through waves, to conquer, To waste, to plunder, out of mere compassion? Is it humanity that prompts you oǹ To ravage the whole earth, to burn, destroy? A Roman virtue, that has cost you dear; PHILIPS 54. The Memory of Joy. How bountifully gifted is man! He lives not only in the present, but in the past and future. The days of his childhood belong to him, even when his hair is white and his eyes are clouded; and heaven itself may open on his vision, while he is wandering among the shadows of earth, and dwelling in a tabernacle of clay. He may look back to the rosy dawn and faint glimmerings of his intellectual day, and forward, till his unchecked sight discerns the dwelling-place of God, and grows familiar with eternity. The greater part of our mental pleasures is drawn from the sources of memory and hope; for while Hope is constantly adorning the future with her fresh colors and bright images, Memory is as active in bringing back to us the joys of the past; and though it is also her duty to introduce its pains, it is with the veil of time becomingly thrown over them, to soften the severity of their features, and render their presence not only endurable, but often soothing and welcome. But I would not speak of the pleasures, alone, which these kind handmaids of our life are commissioned to procure for us. They hold instruction in their keeping; and if we will intimately and seriously converse with them, we may receive from their lips the lessons of wisdom and virtue. They are to be consulted on the real business, as well as the meditative delights, of existence; for what would be the excitement of labor without the encouragements of hope? and where could Experience go for his treasures, if the storehouse of Memory should fail? I might compare these facul |