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Luxurious death! Ye earthquakes, spis the globe, A tever--corched my body, fired my brain!

The solid, rock-ribbed globe and .ay all bar Like lava, in Vesuvius, boiled my blood,

Its subterranean rivers, and fresh seas !"

Thus raged the multitude. And many fell
Within the glowing caveruis of my heart.

In fierce convulsions ;-many slew themselves
Iraged with thirst, and begred a cold, clear draught
Of fountain water. -'Twas with tears, denied.

And now, I saw the city all in flames-
I drank a nauseous febrifuge, and slept ;

The forest burning-and the very earth on fire

I saw the mountains open with a roar, But rested not-harassed with horrid dreams,

Low as the even apocalyptic therder, 0: burning deserts, and of dusty plains,

And was of lava rolling headlong down,
Mountains, disgorging flames—forests on fire,

Through crackling forests fierce, and hot u hell,
Steam, sunshine, smoke, and boiling lakes-
Hills of hot sand, and glowing stones, that seemed

Down to the plais--I turned to fly, and waked!
Embers, and ashes, of a burnt up world!

641. NOSE AND THE MAN. Thint raged within me.-I sought the deepest vale, Kind friends, at your call, I'm come here to sır:8 And called on all the rocks, and caves for water;

Or rather to talk of my woes;
I climbed a mountain, and from cliff to eliff,
Pursued a flying cloud, howling for water:-

Though small's the delight to you I can bring I crust.ol the withered herbs, and gnawed dry roots,

The subject's concerning my nose. Still crying Water ! water !-While the cliffs and caves,

Some noses are large, and others are small, Io horrid mockery, re-echoed “Water !"

For nature's vagaries are such, Below the mountain, gleamed a city, red

To some folks, I'm told, she gives no nose at all, With solar flume, upon the sandy bank Of a broad river.-"Soon, oh soon!" I cried,

But to me she has given too much. “I'll cool my burning body in that food,

Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me! And quaff my fill.”-I ran-I reached the shore.

My cause of complaint, and the worst of my woes, The river was dried up. Its oozy bed

Is, because I have got such a shocking long nose. Was dust ; and on its arid mocks, I saw

Some insult or other, each day I do meet,
The xaly myriads-fry beneath the sun!
Where sunk the channel deepest, I beheld

And by joking, my friends are all foes;
A stirring multitude of human forms,

And the boys every day, as I go thro' the street, And heard a faint, wild, lamentable wail.

Ali bellow out—"There goes a nose!" Thither I sped, and joined the general cry

A woman, with matches one day, I came near, Of_water!” They had delved a spacious pit, In search of hilden fountains ad, sad sight!

Who, just as I tried to get by her, I aw them rend the rocks up in their rage

Shoved me rudely aside, and ask'd, with a leer, With mad impatience, calling on the earth

If I wanted to set her o fire? To open, and yield up her cooling fountains.

Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me! Meanwhile the skies, on which they dared not gaze,

Each rascal, each day, some inuendo throws, Stcod o'er them like a canopy of brass Oodimmed by moisture. The red dog-star raged,

As, my nose is n't mine, I belongs to my nose. And Phoebus, from the house of Virgo, shot

I once went a courting a wealthy old maid, His scorching shafts. The thirsty multitude

To be married we were, the next day; Grew still more frantic. Those, who dug the earth,

But an accident happened, the marriage delay'l, Fell lifeless on the rocks, they strained to upheaven And filled again, with their own carcasses,

My nose got too much in the way. The pits they made-undoing their own work!

For the night before marriage, entranc'd with my Despair, at length, drove out the laborers,

In love, e'er some torrent occurs [lliss At sight of whom, a general groan-announced

I screw'd up my lips, just to give her a kiss,
The death of hope. Ah! now, no more was heard

My nose slipp'd, and rubb'd against her's !
The cry of "water!" To the city next,
Howling, we ran-all hurrying without aim :-

Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me!
Thence to the woods. The baked plain gaped for moisture, The ring that I gave, at my head soon she throws,
And from its arid breast heaved smoke, that seemed

And another tipp'd me, 'twas a w-ring on the nose. The breath of furnace-fierce, volcanic fire,

Like a porter all day, with fatigue fit lo crack, Or hot monsoon, that raises Syrian sands To clouds. Amid the forests, we espied

I'm seeking for rest, at each place, A faint, and bleating herd. Sulden, a shrill,

Or, like pilgrim or old, with his load at his back, And horrid shout arose of Blood I blood l blood I

Only my load I bear on my face. We fell upon them with the tiger's thirst,

I can't get a wife, though each hour hard I lry, And Trank up all the blood, that was not humas We were dyed in blood! Despair returned;

The girls they all blush, like a rose; The cry of blood was hushed, and dumb confusion reignied.

"I'm afraid to have you!" when I ask 'em for why? Even then, when hope was dead - past hope

Because, you have got such a nose. I heard a laugh! and saw a wretched man

Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me!
Rip hr own veins, and, bleeding, drink

Their cause of refusal I cannot suppose,
With eager joy. The example seized on all :-
Each fel. upon himmell, tearing his vein,

They all like the man, but they say- bloro his nose! Fiercely, in karch of blood! And some there were

Like a large joint of meat, before a small fire, Who, having emptied their oron veins, did reize

They say that my proboscis hangsUpon their neighbor's arms, and slew them for their blood

Or, to a brass knocker, nought there can be niglier. Oh ! lappy then, were mother, who gave suck. They dashed their little infants from their breasts,

And in length, it a pump-handle bangs. And their shrunk bosoms tortured, to extract

A wag, you must know, just by way of a wipc, The balny juice, oh! exquisitely sweet

Said, with a grin on his face, l'other nighi, To their parched tongues! Tio done —now all be gone As he, from his pocket, was pulling a pipe, Blood, water, and the bobom's nectar, all!

“At your nose will you give me a lighepom * Read, oh! ve lightningo! the sealed firmament, And food a lurning world. -Rain! rain! pour! pour !

Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me! Osasc windom of high heaven! and pour

If I ask any one my way to disclose, w mint ty deluge Iet w drown, and drink

If I lose ir-they answer, why, follow your nose.

642. NOBILITY OF LABOR. Why, in the 643. DAVID'S LAMENT OVER ABBALOX. great scale of things, is labor ordained for us?

The king-stood still, Easily, had it so pleased the great Ordainer, Till the last echo--died: then, throwing od might it have been dispensed with. The world itself, might have been a mighty ma- The sack-cloth—from his brow, and laying back chinery, for producing all that man wants. The pall-froin the still features of his child, Houses might have risen like an exhalation, He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth " With the sound

In the resistless eloquence of woe :ordulcet symphonies, and voices sweet, Built like a temple."

"Alas! iny noble boy! that thou shouldst die ! Gorgeous furniture might have been placed

Thou, who wert made so beaui fully fair! in them, and soft couches and luxurious ban. That deain--nould settle-in thy glorious eye, quets spread, by hands unseen; and man, And leave his stillness in this cu stering hair! clothed with fabrics of nature's weaving, How could he mark thee-for the silent tomt, rather than with imperial purple, might have

My proud boy, Absalom! been sent to disport himself in those Elysian palaces.

Cold is thy brow, my son! and I am chill, “Fair scene!” I imagine you are saying : As to my bosom--I have tried to press thee. “ fortunate for us had it been the scene or- How was I wont-to feel my pulses thrill, dained for human life!” But where, then, Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, had been huinan energy, perseverance, pa: And hear thy sweet—my father,' from these tience, virtue, heroisın ? Cut off labor with one blow, from the world, and mankind had

And cold lips, Absalom!

[dumb, sunk to a crowd of Asiatic voluptuaries. The grave hath won thee. I shall hear thc gusb

No-it had not been fortunate! Better, Of music, and the voices of the young; that the earth be given to man as a dark mass, And life will pass me-in the mantling blush, wereupon to labor. Better, that rude, and un

And the dark tresses-to the soft winds fung; sightly materials be provided in the ore-bed, and in the forest, for him to fashion in splen- | But thou-no more, with thy sweet voice, shall dor and beauty. Better I say, not because To meet me, Absalom !

(come of that splendor, and beauty, but, becausc But, oh! when I am stricken, and my heart, the act of creating thern, is better than the things themselves; because exertion is nobler How will its love for thee, as I depart,

Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken,

(token! than enjoyment; because the laborer is greater and more worthy of honor, than the idler.

Yearn for thine ear-to drink its last-deep I call upon those whom I address, to stand It were so sweet, amid death’s gathering gloom, up for the nobility of labor. It is heaven's So see thee, Absalom ! great ordinance for human improvement. And now-farewell! 'Tis hard-lo give thee up. Let not the great ordinance be broken down. What do I say? It is broken down; and it

With death-so like a gentle slumber on thee has been broken down for ages. Let'it then And thy dark sin!--oh! I could drink the cup, be built again; here, if any where, on the

If, from this wo, its bitterness had won thee. shores of a new world-of a new civilization. May God have called thee, like a wanderer, But how, it may be asked, is it broken

My erring Absalom ?”

[home, down? Do not men toil? it may be said. He covered up his face, and bowed himself, They do indeed toil, but they too generally do, because they must. Many submit to it, A moment, on his child; then, giving him as in some sort, a degrading necessity; and A look of melting tenderness, he clasped they desire nothing so much on earth, as an His hands, convulsively, as if in prayer; escape from it. They fulfil the great law of And, as a strength were given him of God, labor in the letter, but break it in the spirit. He rose up, calmly, and composed the pall, To some field of labor, mental or manual, Firmly, and decently, and left him there, every idler should hasten, as a chosen, covet. As if his rest—had been a breathing sleep. Wille ed field of improvement.

But so he is not compelled to do, under the the theatre was from the very first, teachings of our imperfect civilization. On The favorite haunt of sin ; though honest mer., the contrary, he sits down, folds his hands, Some very honest, wise and worthy men, and blesses himself in idleness. This thinking, is the heritage of the absurd and Maintained it might be turned to good account: unjust feudal system, under which serfs la- And so perhaps it might, but never was. bored, and gentlemen spent their lives in fight. From first-10 last-it was an evil piace : in: and feasting. It is time that this oppro- And now such things were acted there. as made brium of toil were done away.

'The devils blush: and, from the neighborhood, Aslamed to toil? Ashamed of thy dingy work-shop, and dusty labor-field; of thy hard Angels, and boly men, trembling, retired : hand, scarred with service more honorable And what with dreadful aggravation-crowded than that of war; of thy soiled and weather- This dreary time, was-sin against the light. stained garments, on which mother mature has all men knew God, and, knowing, disobeyed; embroidered mist, sun and rain, fire and steam, And gloried to insult him—to his face. her own heraldic honors ? Ashamed of those Cokens, and titles, and envious of the faunt. Look round-the habitable world, how fewing robes of imbecile idleness, and vanity ? Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue! It is treason to nature, it is impiety to heaven; 'Tis all men's office—to speak patience-it is breaking heaven's great ordinance. Toil

, To those that toil—under a load of sorrow. I repeat-toil, either of the brain, of the heart, or of the hand, is the only true manhood, 'This the first sanction--nature--gave to mas the only true nobility !-Dewey.

Euch other to assist, in what they can

644. MARCO BOZZARRIS. He fell in an attack upon the Turkish camp at Laspi, the Lite of the ancient Platea, August 20, 1823, and expired in the mo. bent of victory. His last words were-" To die for liberty, is a plessure, and not a pain." At midnight,-in his guarded tent,

The Turk-was dreaming of the hour,
When Greece,-her knee in suppliance bent,

Should tremble--at his power.
In dreams, through camp-and court, he bore
The trophies of a conqueror;

In dreams, his song of triumph heard;
Then, wore his monarch's signet ring:
Then, pressed that monarch's throne,-a king;
As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing,

As Eden's garden bird.
At midnight,--in the forest shades,

Bozzarris-anged his Suliote band,
True--as the steel-of their tried blades,

Heroes-in leart--and hand.
There, had the Persian's thousands stood,
There, had the glad earth-drunk their blood,

On old Platea's day;
And now, there breathed that haunted air,
The sons--of sires, who conquered there,
With arm-to strike, and soul-to dare,

As quick, as far as they.
An hour passed on-the Turk-awoke-

That bright dream-was his last ;
He woke-to hear his sentries shriek,
* To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek !"
He woke-to die, 'midst flame, and smoke,
And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke,

And death-shots-falling thick and fast
As lightnings, from the mountain cloud;
And heard, with voice, as trumpet loud,

Bozzarris-cheer his band :
« Strike! till the last armed foe expires;
Strike! for your altars, and your fires;
Strike! for the green graves of your sires;

God-and your native land!”
They fought, like brave men, long and well;

They piled that ground—with Moslem slain; They conquered-but, Bozzarris fell,

Bleeding-at every vein.
His few surviving comrades saw
His smile, when rang the proud-hurrah!

And the red field was won;
Then saw, in death, his eyelids close
Calmly, as 10 a night's repose,

Like flowers-ar set of sun.
Come to the bridal chamber,-Death!

Corne to the mother-when she feels,
For the first time, her first-born's breath;

Corne-when the blessed seals, That close the pestilence, are broke, And crowded cities-wail its stroke; Come-in consumption's ghastly form, The earthquake shock, the ocean storm; Come, when the heart beats high, and warm,

With banquet-song, and dance, and wine-
And thou art terrüle. the tear,
The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier,
And all we know.-or dream, or fear,

Of agony,-are thine.
But, to the hero, when his sword

Has won ihe battle for the free,
Thy voice-sounds like a prophet's word,
And, in its hollow tones, are heard-

Th thanks of millions yet to be.
Bozzarris! with the storied brave,

Greece nurtured, in her glory's time,
Rest the there is no prouder grave,

Even in her own proud clime.
We iell thy doom--without a sigh:
For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame'sme
One c! the few, the imınortal names,

T.it wer not borw-to die.-Hallecka

645. MAID OF MALAHIDB In the church of Malahide, in Ireland, are the cab and ettig of the lady Maid Plunkett, sister of the first Lord Dunsanny, oi whom it is recorded that "she was maid, wife, and widow in on day.” Her first husband, Hussy, Baron of Galtrim, was calles from the altar to head "a hosting of the English against the Irish," and was brought back to the bridal banquet a corpse, cpro the shields of his followers.

The dark-eyed Maid-of Malahice,

Her silken bodice laced,
And on her brow,—with virgin pride,

The bridul chaple-placed.
Her heart--is beating high, her cheet

Is flushed-witn rosy shaine,
As laughing bridemaids-slily speak,

The gallant bridegroom's name.
The dark-eyed Maid-of Malahide-

Before the altar-stands,
And Galtrim-claims his blushing bride,

From pure-and holy hands :-
But hark! what fearful sounds are those ?

“To arms! to arms!” they cry;-
The bride's sweet clieek-no longer glows,

Fear-sils in that young eye.
The gallants-all are mustering now

The bridegroom's helm-is on :
One look,-upon that wretched brow:

One kiss,-and he is gone ;-
The feast is spread,—but many a knighi

Who should have graced that hall-
Will sleep-anon, in cold moonlight,

Beneath-a gory pall.
The garlands-bright with rainbow dyes

In gay festoons-are hung;
The starry lamps-out-shine the skies,

The golden harps are strung:
But she—the moving spring of all,

Hath sympathy-with none
That meet in that old festive hall ,-

And now-the feast's begun.
Hark! to the clang of arms! is 'ı he,

The bridegroom chief,-returned, -
Crowned-with the wreath of victory

By his good weapon-earned?
Victorious bands-indeed-return,-

But, on their shields—they bear-
The laurelled chief,—and melt--those stereo

At that young bride's despair.
" Take-take-the roses from my brow,

The jewels-from my waist;
I have no need--of such things now :">

And then--her cheek--she placed-
Close-10 his dead-cold cheek, and wept,- •

As one may wildly weep,
When the last hope, -the heart had kepi,

Lies buried-in the deep.
Long years have passed,--since that young

Bewailed-her widowed doom: (bricie
The holy walls--of Malahide-

Still-shrine her marble tomb :-
And sculpture there-has sought to prove,

With rude essay-offart.
That form-she wore in life,-whose lovom

Did grace-her woman's heart.-Craufid The influence of example - is a terrible responsihility-on the shoulders of every in dividual

646. AARON BURR AND BLENNERHAS- | and che seductive, and fascinating power of SETT. Who, then, is Aaron Burr, and what his address. The conquest was not a difti. the part which he has borne in this transac- cult one. Innocence is ever simple, and tion? He is its author; its projector ; its ac- credulous; conscious of no design itself, it tive executor. Bold, ardent, restless, and as suspects none in others; it wears no guards piring, his brain conceived it; his hand before its breast: every door, and portal, and brought it into action. Beginning his opera- avenue of the heart is thrown open, and all, tions in New York, he associates with him, who choose it, enter. Such, was the state of men, whose wealth is to supply the neces- Eden, when the serpent entered its bowers. sary funds. Possessed of the mainspring, The prisoner, in a more engaging form, wind. his personal labor contrives all the machine ing himself into the open and unpracticed ry. Pervading the continent from New York heart of the unfortunate Blennerhassett, found to New Orleans, he draws into his plan, by but little difficulty, in changing the native everv allurement which he can contrive, men character of that heart, and the objects of its us all ranks, and all descriptions. To youth affection. By degrees, he infuses into it the ful ardor he presents danger and glory; to poison of his own ambition; he breathes into ambition, rank, and titles, and honors; io av. it the fire of his own courage; a daring and des arice, the mines of Mexico. To each person perate thirst for glory; an ardor, panting for whom he addresses, he presents the object all the storm, and bustle, and hurricane of life. adapted to his taste: his recruiting officers are in a short time, the whole man is changed, appointed; men are engaged throughout the and every object of liis former delight relincontinent: civil life is indeed quiet upon the quished. No more he enjoys the tranquil surface; but in its bosom this man has con- scene; it has become tlat, and insipid to bis trived to deposit the materials, which, with taste; his books are abandoned; his retort, the slighest touch of his match, produces an and crucible, are thrown aside; his shrubbery explosion, to shake the continent. All this in vain blooms, and breathes its fragrance uphis restless ambition has contrived; and, in on the air-he likes it not; his ear no longer the autumn of 1806, he goes forth, for the last drinks the rich melody of music; it longs for time, to apply this match. On this excur- the trumpet's clangor, and the cannon's roar; sion he meets with Blennerhassett.

even the prattle of his babes, once so sweet, Who is Blennerhassett? A native of Ire no longer affects him; and the angel smile of land, a man of letters, who fled from the his wife, which hitherto touched his bosom storms of his own country to find quiet in ours. with ecstasy so unspeakable, is now unfelt His history shews, that war is not the natu- and unseen. Greater objects have taken pos. ral element of his mind; if it had been, he session of his soul-his imagination has been would never have exchanged Ireland for dazzled by visions of diadems, and stars, and America. So far is an army from furnishing garters, and titles of nobility: he has been the society, natural and proper to Mr. Blen- taught to burn with restless emulation at the nerhassett's character, that on his arrival in names of Cromwell, Cesar, and Bonaparte. America, he retired, even from the popula- His enchanted island is destined soon to retion of the Atlantic states, and sought quiet, lapse into a desert; and, in a few months, and solitude, in the bosom of our western for- we find the tender, and beautiful partner of ests. But he carried with him taste, and sci- his bosom, whom he lately permitted not ence, and wealth; and “lo, the desert smiled.” the winds of” summer" to visit too roughly," Possessing himself of a beautiful island in we find her shivering, at midnight, on the the Ohio, he rears upon it a palace, and dec- winter banks of the Ohio, and mingling her orates it with every romantic embellishment tears with the torrents, that froze as they tell. of fancy. A shrubbery, that Shenstone might Yet, this unfortunate man, thus deluded from have envied, blooms around him; music that his interest, and his happiness--thus seduced might have charmed Calypso and her nymphs, from the paths of innocence, and peace-thus is his; an extensive library spreads its treas- confounded in the toils, which were deliberures before him; a philosophical apparatus ately spread for him, and orerwhelmed by offers to him all the secrets, and mysteries of the mastering spirit, and genius of another nature; peace, tranquillity, and innocence this man, thus ruined, and undone, and made shed their mingled delights around him; and, to play a subordinate part in this grand drama to crown the enchantment of the scene, a of guilt and treason-this man is to be called wife, who is said to be lovely even beyond the principal oflender; while he, by whom he her sex, and graced with every accomplish- was thus plunged, and steeped in misery, is ment, that can render it irresistible, had bles- comparatively innocent-a mere accessory. sed him with her love, and made him the Sir, neither the human heart, nor the human father of her children. The evidence would understanding will bear a perversion so mone convinre you, that this is but a faint picture strous, and absurd; so shocking to the soul, of the real life.

so revolting to reason. 0! no sir. There is In the midst of all this peace, this inno- no man who knows anything of this altair, cence, and this tranquillity, this feast of the who does not know that to every body conmind, this pure banquet of the heart—the cerned in it, Aaron Burr was as the sun to destroyer comes he comes—to turn this par- the planets, which surround him; he bound adise-into a hell-yet the vowers do not them in their respective orbits, and gave them wither at his approach, and no monitory their light, their heat, and their inotion. Let whurdering, through the bosom of their un him not then shrink- from the high destinafortunate possessor, warns him of the ruin, tion, which he has courted; and having althat is coming upon him. A stranger presents ready ruined Blennerhassett in fortune, char. himself. Introduced to their civilities, by the acter, and happiness, forerer, attempt to tin. high rank which he had lately held in his ish the tragedy, by thrusting that ill-fated country; Le son finds his way to their hearts, man between himself and punishment. by the dignity, and elegance of his demean. The royal hee, queen--of the rosy bower, Ji, the light and beauty of his conversation, Collecis her precious sweets from every flower.

647. TALENTS ALWAYS ASCENDANT. / as unavailing, as would a human effort "to Talents, whenever they have had a suitable quench the stars.”'-Wirt. theatre, have never failed to emerge from ob

648. RICH AND POOR MAN. scurity, and assume their proper rank in the estimation of the world. The jealous pride So goes the world;—if wealthy, you may call of power may attempt to repress, and crush This, friend, thai, brother; friends and brothers all; ti:em; the base, and malignant rancor of im- Tho you are worthless-witless-never mind :: potent spleen, and envy-may strive to em- | You may have been a stable-boy-what then? barrass and retard their flight: but these ef- Tis wealth, good sir, makes honorable mer.. forts, so far from achieving their ignoble pur- You seek respect, no doubt, and you wi: find it. pose, so far from producing a discernible obliquity, in the ascent of genuine, and vigorous But, if you are poor, heaven help you! tho' your talents, will serve only to increase their mo Had royal blood within him, and tho' you sure mentuin, and mark their transit, with an ad. Possess the intellect of angels, too, ditional stream of glory:

'Tis all in vain;-the world will ne'er inquire When the great earl of Chatham-first made on such a score :-Why should it take the pans? his appearance in the house of commons, and Tis easier to weigh purses, sure, than brains. began to astonish, and transport the British parliament, and the British nation, by the I once saw a poor fellow, keen, and clever, boldness, the force, and range of his thoughts, Witty, and wise:-he paid a man a visit, and the celestial fire, and pathos of his elo- And no one noticed him, and no one ever [is it!" quence, it is well known, that the minister, Gave him a welcome. "Strange," cried I, “whence Walpole, and his brother Horace, from mo

He walked on this side, then on that, tives very easily understood, exerted all their wit, all their oratory, all their acquirements

He tried to introduce a social chat; of every description, sustained and enforced

Now here, now there, in vain he tried; by the unfeeling “insolence of office," to heave Some formally and freezingly replied, and sorte a mountain on his gigantic genius, and hide it Said, by their silence-Beller stay at home." from the world. Poor and powerless attempt! A rich man burst the door, The tables were turned. He rose upon them,

As Cræsus rich; I'm sure in the might, and irresistible energy of his genius, and, in spite of all their convulsions, He could not pride himself upon his wil, frantic agonies, and spasms, he strangled And as for wisdom, he had none of it; them, and their whole faction, with as much He had what's better;-he had wealth. ease as Hercules did the serpent Python. What a confusion!-all stand up erec

Who can turn over the debates of the day, These-crowd around to ask him of his health. ; and read the account of this conflict between youthful ardor, and hoary-headed cunning, and these--arrange a sofa or a chair,

These--bow in honest duty, and respect; and power, without kindling in the cause of the tyro, and shouting at his victory! That And these-conduct him there. they should have attempted to pass off the "Allow me, sir, the honor;"— Then a lowgrand, yet solid and judicious operations of a Down to the earth-Is 't possible to show mind like his, as being mere theatrical start Meet gratitude-for such kind condescensicn ?-and emotion; the giddy, hair-brained eccentricities of a romantic boy! That they should

The poor man-hung his head, have had the presumption to suppose them

And, to himself, he said, selves capable of chaining down, to the floor “This is indeed, beyond my comprehension :" of the parliament, a genius so ethrerial, tower Then looking round, ing and sublime, seems unaccountable! Why One friendly face he found, did they not, in the next breath, by way of and said, “Pray tell me why is wealth preferred, crowning the climax of vanity, bid the magnificent fire-ball to descend from its exalted, and To wisdom?”—“That's a silly question. friend!" appropriate region, and perform its splendid Replied the other—" have you never heard, tour along the surface of the earth?

A man may lend his store Talents, which are before the public, have Of gold, or silver ore, nothing to dread, either from the jealous pride But wisdom-none can borrow, none can lend ? of power, or from the transient misrepresentations of party, spleen, or envy. In spite of opposition from any cause, their buoyant spir

0, it is excellent it will lift them to their proper grade. The Tc have a giant's strength; but it is tyranno:13 man who comes fairly before the world, and To use it like a giant. stho possesses the great, and vigorous stami- Could great men thunder 1 a, which entitle hina to a niche in the temple As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quier: of glory, has no reason to dread the ultimate For every pelung, petty officer, Frsult; however slow his progress may be, he

(thunder. will, in the end, most indubitably receive that Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but distinction. While the rest, “the swallows of Merciful heaven! Rcience," the butterflies of genius, may futter Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous boll, for their spring; but they will soon pass Split the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, away, and be remembered no more. No en- Than the sott myrile.-0, but man, proud man, terprising man, therefore, and least of all, the Drest in a little brief authority; truly great man, has reason to droop, or re- Most ignorant of what he 's most assurd, pine. at any efforts, which he may suppose to be made, with the view to depress him. Let, His glassy essence,-like an angry ape, then, the tempest, of envy, or of malice howl Plays such fantastic tricks before bigh heaven around him. His genius will consecrate him; As inake the angels weep; who, with our spleens auj any attempt to extinguish that will be would all themselves laugh mortal.-- Shakspears


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