723. No EXCELLENCE WITHOUT LABOR. The education, moral, and intellectual, of every individual, must be, chiefly, his own work. Rely upon it, that the ancients were right-Quisque suæ fortunæ faber-both in morals, and intellect, we give their final shape to our own characters, and thus become, emphatically, the architects of our own fortunes. How else could it happen, that young men, who have had precisely the same opportunities, should be continually presenting us, with such different results, and rushing to such opposite destinies? Difference of talent will not solve it, because that difference very often is in favor of the disappointed candidate. You shall see, issuing from the walls of the same college-nay, sometimes from the bosom of the same family-two young men, of whom the one-shall be admitted to be a genius of high order, the other, scarcely above the point | of mediocrity; yet you shall see the genius sinking and perishing in poverty, obscurity, and wretchedness: while, on the other hand, you shall observe the mediocre, plodding his slow, but sure way-up the hill of life, gaining steadfast footing at every step, and mounting, at length, to eminence and distinction, an ornament to his family, a blessing to his country. Now, whose work is this? Manifestly their own. They are the architects of their respective fortunes. The best seminary of learning, that can open its portals to you, can do no more than to afford you the opportunity of instruction: but it must depend, at last, on yourselves, whether you will be instructed or not, or to what point you will push your instruction. And of this be as sured-I speak, from observation, a certain truth: there is no excellence without great labor. It is the fiat of fate, from which no power of genius can absolve you. Genius, unexerted, is like the poor moth that flutters around a candle, till it scorches itself to death. If genius be desirable at all, it is only of that great and magnanimous kind, which, like the Condor of South America, pitches from the summit of Chimborazo, above the clouds, and sustains itself, at pleasure, in that empyreal region, with an energy-rather invigorated, than weakened, by the effort. It is this capacity for high and long-continued exertion-this vigorous power of profound and searching investigation-this careering and wide-spreading comprehension of mind, and those long reaches of thought, that -Pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom line cou i never touch the ground, And drag up drownedonor by the iocks" This is the prowess, and these the hardy achievements, which are to enroll your names among the great men of the earthi.-Wirt. 723. LIFE IS REAL. Tell me not-in mournful numbers, Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave-is not its goal; Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, 2c2 But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther-than to-day. Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Funeral marches-to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, Heart-within, and God-o'er head. We can make our lives sublime, Footsteps-on the sands of time; With a heart for any fate; Learn to labor, and to wait.-Longfellow. 724. DIGNITY OF HUMAN NATURE. In forming our notions of human nature, we are very apt to make a comparison betwixt men, and animals, which are the only creatures, endowed with thought, that fall under our senses. Certainly, this comparison is very favorable to mankind! On the one hand, we see a creature, whose thoughts are not limited, by the narrow bounds, either of place. or time, who carries his researches-into the most distant regions of this globe, and beyond this globe, to the planets, and heavenly bo dies; looks backward-to consider the first origin of the human race; casts his eyes forward--to see the influence of his actions upon posterity, and the judgments which will be formed of his character-a thousand years hence: a creature, who traces causes and effects to great lengths and intricacy; extracts general principles from particular appearances; improves upon his discoveries, corrects his mistakes, and makes his very errors profitable. On the other hand, we are presented with a creature-the very reverse cf ings-to a few sensible objects which surthis; limited in its observations and reason round it; without curiosity, without foresight, blindly conducted by instinct, and arriving, in a very short time, at its utmost perfection, beyond which-it is never able to advance é single step. What a difference is there be twixt these creatures! and how exalted a notion must we entertain of the former in comparison of the latter.-Hume. SURE REWARDS FOR VIRTUE. A drowning fly, I shall not live in vair I had rather see some women praised extraordi narily, than to see any of them suffer by detraction and 725. EMMET'S VINDICATION-IN FULL. My Lords-What have I to say, why sentence of death should not be be pronounced on me, according to law? I have nothing to say, that can alter your predetermination, nor that it will become me to say, with any view to the mitigation of that sentence, which you are here to pronounce, and I must abide by. But I have that to say, which interests me more than life, and which you have labored, (as was necessarily your office in the present circumstances of this oppressed country,) to destroy. I have much to say, why my reputation should be rescued-from the load of false accusation and calumny, which has been heaped upon it. I do not imagine that, seated where you are, your minds can be so free from impurity, as to receive the least impression-from what I am going to utter I have no hopes, that I can anchor my character-in the breast of a court, constituted and trammeled as this is-I only wish, the utmost I expe, that your lordships-may suffer it to foat down your memories, untainted by the foul bath of prejudice, until it finds some more hospitable harbor-to snelter it from the storm, by which it is at present buffeted. Was I only to suffer death, after being adjudged guilty by your tribunal-I should bow in silence, and meet the fate that awaits me, without a murmurbut the sentence of the law, which delivers my body to the executioner, will, through the ministry of that law, labor, in its own vindication, to consign my character to obloquy-for there must be guilt somewhere: whether in the sentence of the court, or in the catastrophy, posterity must determine. A man, in my situation, my lords, has not only to encounter the difculties of fortune, and the force of power over minds, which it has corrupted, or subjugated, but, the difficulties of established prejudice.-The man dies, but his memory lives: that mine may not perish, that it may live, in the respect of my countrymen, I seize upon this opportunity to dicate myself from some of the charges alleged against me. When my spirit shall be wafted to a more friendly port; when my shade shall have joined the bands of those martyred heroes, who have shed their blood on the scaffold, and in the field, in defence of their country, and of virtue, this is my hope; I wish that my memory and name-may animate those, who survive me, while I ook down, with complacency, on the destruction of that perfidicus government, which upholds its domination by blasphemy of the Most High--which displays its power over man, as over the beasts of the forest—which sets man upon his brother, and lifts his hand, in the name of God, against the throat of his fellow, who believes, or doubts, a little more, or a little less, than the governwent standard—a government, which is steeled to barbarity by the cries of the orphans, and the tears of the widows which it has niade. [Here, Lord Norbury interrupted Mr. Emmet, saying, that the mean and wicked enthusiasts who felt as he did, were not equal to the accomplishment of their wild designs. I appeal to the immaculate God-I swear by the throne of Heaven, before which I must shortly appear-by the blood of the murdered patriots, who have gone before me-that my conduct has been, through all this peril, and all my purposes, governed only, by the convictions which I have uttered, and by no other view, than that of their cure, and the emancipation of my country-from the superinhuman oppression, under which she has so long, and too patiently travailed; and that I confidently and assuredly hope, that, wild and chimerical as it may appear, there is still union and strength in Ireland to accomplish this noblest enterprise. Of this, I speak with the confidence of intimate knowledge, and with the consolation that appertains to that confidence. Think not, my lord, I say this for the petty gratification of giving you a transitory uneasiness; a man, who never yet raised his voice to assert a lie, will not hazard his character with posterity, by asserting a falsehood on a subject, so important to his country, and on an occasion like this. Yes, my ords, a man who does not wish to have his epitaph written, until his country is liberated, will not leave a weapon in the power of envy; nor a pretence to impeach the probity, which te means to preserve, even in the grave-to which tyranny congns him. [Here, he was agam interrupted, by the court.] Again, I say, that what I have spoken, was not intended for your lordship, whose situation I commiserate-rather than envy-my expressions were for my countrymen: if there is a true Irishman present, let my last words cheer him in the hour of his afflicDOB (Bere, he was again interrupted. Lord Norbury said he did o sit there to hear train] I have always understond it to be the duty of a judge, when a proner has been convicted, to pronouner the sentence of the law; I have, also, understood that judges, sometimes, think it there to hear. with patience, and to speak with humanity; to enun the victim of the laws, and to offer. with tender benignity has opinions of the motives, by which he was actuated in the crime. of which he had been adjudged guilty; that a judge has thought a his duty so to have done, I have no doubt-but where is the boast ed freedom of your institutions, where is the vaunted impartiality, clemency, and mildness of your courts of justice? if an unfortunate prisoner, whom your policy, and not pure justice, is about to deliv er into the hands of the executioner, is not suffered to explain him motives, sincerely and truly, and to vindicate the principles, ty which he was actuated. My lords, it may be a part of the system of angry justice, to tov a man's mind by humiliation-to the purposed iguon ny of the scaffold; but worse to me than the purposed shame, or the seaf fold's terrors, would be the shame of such foul and unfounded in putations-as have been laid against me in this court: you, my lord, are a judge, I am the supposed culprit; I am a man, you ɩa a man, also; by a revolution of power, we might change places, though we never could change characters; if I stand at the bar c this court, and dare not vindicate my character, what a farce your justice? If I stand at this bar and dare not vindicate may character, how dare you calumniate it? Does the sentence of death, which your unhallowed policy inflicts upon my body, ale condemn my tongue to silence, and my reputation to reproach? Your executioner may abridge the period of my existence, but while I exist, I shall not forbear to vindicate my character, and motives-from your aspersions; and, as a man to whom fame is dearer than life, I will make the last use of that life, in doing justice to that reputation, which is to live after me, and which in the only legacy I can leave to those I honor and love, and for whom I am proud to perish. As men, my lord, we must appear on the great day, at one common tribual, and it will then remain-for the searcher of all hearts-to show a collective universe, who was engaged in the most virtuous actions, or actuated by the purest a tives-my country's oppressors or[Here, he was interrupted, and told to listen to the sentence of the law.] My lord, will a dying man be denied the legal privilege of excul pating himself, in the eyes of the community, of an undeserved reproach, thrown upon him during his trial, by charging him with ambition, and attempting to cast away, for a paltry consideration, the liberties of his country? Why did your lordship insult mei or rather why insult justice, in demanding of me, why sentence of death should not be pronounced? I know, my lord, that form pre scribes that you should ask the question; the form also presumes a right of answering. This, no doubt, may be dispensed withand so might the whole ceremony of the trial, since sentence was pronounced at the castle, before your jury was empanelled; your lordships are but the priests of the oracle, and I submit; but I insist on the whole of the forms. [Here the court desired him to proceni.] I am charged with being an emissary of France! Au emissary of France! And for what end? It is alleged that I wished to sell the independence of my country! And for what end? Was this the object of my ambition! And is this the mode by which a tn bunal of justice reconciles contradictions? No, I am no emissary; and my ambition wa-to hold a place among the deliverers of my country; not in power, nor in profit, but in the glory of the achieve. ment! Sell my country's independence to France! And for what Was it for a change of masters? No! But for ambition! O, nig country, was it personal ambition that could influence me! Flad it been the soul of my actions, could I not, by my education and fortune, by the rank and consideration of my family, have placed mywif among the proudest of my oppressors? My country was my idol: to it I sacrificed every selfish, every endearing sentiment; and for it, I now offer up my life. O God! No, my lord; I acted at. Irishman, determined on delivering my country--from the poke of a foreign, and unrelenting tyranny, and from the more galling yoke of a domestic faction, which is its joint partner and peipe trator, in the parricide, for the ignominy of existing with an exte rior of splendor, and of conscious depravity. It was the wish of my heart to extricate any country, from this doubly riveted dekpot. ism. I wished to place her independence beyond the reach of any pow. er on earth; I wished to exalt you to that proud station in the world. Connection with France was indeed intended, but only se fai as mutual interest would sanction, or require. Were they to anIDE any authority, inconsistent with the purest independence, it would be the signal for their destruction; we sought aid, and we sought it is we had assurances we should obtain it; as auxillaries, in warand allies, m peace. Were the French to come as invaders, or enemies, uninvited by the wishes of the people, I should oppose them to the utmost of my strength. Yes, my countrymen, I should advise you to meet them on the beach, with a sword in one hand, and a torch in the ether; I would meet them with all the destructive fury of war; and I would animate my countrymen to immolate them in their boats, before they had contaminated the soil of my country. If they succeeded in landing, and if forced to retire before superior discipline, I would dispute every inch of ground, burn every blade of grass, and the last intrenchment of liberty should be my grave. What I could not do myself, if I should fall, I should leave as a leet charge to my countrymen to accomplish; because I should feci conrcions that life, any more than death, is unprofitable, when a foreign nation holds my country in subjection. But it was not as an enemy-that the succors of France were to Land: looked indeed for the assistance of France; but I wished to prove to France, and to the world, that Irishmen-deserve to be as isted! That they were indignant at slavery, and ready to assert ⚫e independence and liberty of their country. I wished to procure for my country the guarantee, which Washngton procured for America. To procure an aid, which, by its example, would be as important as its valor; disciplined, gallant, pregnant with science and experience; who would perceive the good, and polish the rough points of our character; they would ecrue to us as strangers, and leave us as friends, after sharing in our perils, and elevating our destiny. These were my objects, not to receive new task-masters, but to expel old tyrants; these were my views, and there only became Irishmen. It was for these ends I sought aid from France, because France, even as an enemy, could not be more implacable than the enemy already in the bosom of my country. [Here he was interrupted by the court.] I have been charged-with that importance in the efforts-to emancipate my country, as to be considered the key-stone of the combination of Irishmen, or, as your lordship expressed it, "the life and blood of conspiracy." You do me honor over-much: You have given to the subaltern-all the credit of a superior. There are men engaged in this conspiracy, who are not only superior to me, but even to your own conceptions of yourself, my lord; men, before the splendor of whose genius and virtues, I should bow with respectful deference, and who would think themselves dishonored to be called-your friend-who would not disgrace themselves by c.aking your blood-stained hand [Here he was interrupted.] What, my lord, shall you tell me, on the passage to the scaffold, which that tyranny, of which you are only the intermediary execu tioner, has erected for my murder,-that I am accountable for all the blood that has, and will be shed, in this struggle of the oppres sed-against the oppressor-shall you tell me this-and must I be so very a slave-as not to repel it? I do not fear to approach the omnipotent Judge, to answer for the conduct of my whole life; and am I to be appalled and falsifed bv a mere remnant of mortality here? by you too, who, if it were possible to collect all the innocent blood that you have shed in your unhallowed ministry, in one great reservoir, your lordship might swim in it. [Here the judge interfered.] Let no man dare, when I am dead, to charge me with dishonor! let no man attaint my memory, by believing that I could have en. gaged in any cause but that of my country's liberty and indepen dence; or, that I could have become the pliant minion of power, in the oppression, or the miseries, of my countrymen. The proclamation of the provisional government speaks for our views; no inference can be tortured from it, to countenance barbarity, or aebasement at home, or subjection, humiliation, or treacnery from abroad; I would not have submitted to a foreign: oppressor, for the ame reason that I would resist the foreign and domestic oppressor; in the dignity of freedom, I would have fought upon the threshold of my country and its enemy should enter-only by passing over ray lifeless core. Am 1, who lived but for my country and wno pave subjected myself to the dangers of the jealous and watchful oppressor, and the bondage of the grave, only to give my corntry. men their rights, and my country her independence, and am I loaded with calumny, and not suffered to resent or repel it-No God forbid! be If the spirits--of the illustrious dead-participate in the concerns, and cares of hose, who are dear to them-in this transitory life-o ever dear-and venerated shade-of my departed father, look down with scrutiny, upon the conduct of your suffering son; and see if I have, even for a moment, deviated com those princip es of mo rality and patriotism, which it was your care to still to my youthful mind; and for which I am now to offer up my life. My lords, you are impatient for the sacrifice-the blood, which you seek, is not congealed by the artificial terrors which surround your victim; it circulates warmly and unruffled, through the char nels, which God created for noble purposes, but which you are bent to destroy, for purposes so grievous, that they cry to heaven Be yet patient! I have but a few words more to say.-I am going to my cold-and silent grave: my lamp of life-is nearly extin guished; my race is run: the grave opens to rece e me, and sink into its bosom! I have but one request to ask at n y departure from this world,-it is the charity of its silence!-Let no man wre my epitaph: for, as no man, who knows my motives, dare n vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Le them, and me, repose in obscurity, and peace, and my tomb remaia uninacribed, until other times, and other men, can do justice to my character: when my country takes her place among the natione o the earth, then-and not till then-let my epitaph be written have done. 726. LUCY. Three years she grew, in sun, and shower, Myself will, to my darling, be In earth, and heaven, in glade, and bower, To kindle, and restrain. Or up the mountain, springs; The floating clouds-their state shall lend The stars of midnight--shall be dear Where rivulets dance their wayward round; And vital feelings of delight- Here, in this happy dell." She died, and left to me And never more--will be. Wordsworth. When thou doest good, do it because it is good; not because men esteem it so. When thou avoidest evil, flee from it because it is evil; not because men speak against it. Be honest for the love of honesty, and thou shalt be uniformly so. He that doeth it without principle-is wavering. 787. CICEKO'S ORATION AGAINST VERRES. I ask now, Verres, what have you to advance against this charge? Will you pretend to deny it? Will you pretend that any thing false, that even anything aggravated-is alleged against you? Had any prince, or any state, committed the same outrage against the privileges of Roman citizens, should we not think we had sufficient reason-for declaring immediate war against them? What punishment, then, ought to be inflicted on a tyrannical and wicked prætor, who dared, at no greater distance than Sicily, within sight of the Italian coast, to put to the infamous death of crucifixion, that unfortunate and innocent citizen, Publius Gavius Cosanus, only for his having asserted his privilege of citizenship, and declared his intention of appealing to the justice of his country, against a cruel oppressor, who had unjustly confined him in prison, at Syracuse, whence he had just made his escape? The unhappy man, arrested as he was going to embark for his native country, is brought before the wicked prætor. With eyes darting fury, and a countenance distorted with cruelty, he orders the helpless victim of his rage to be stripped, and rods to be brought; accusing him, but with out the least shadow of evidence, or even of suspicion, of having come to Sicily as a spy. It was in vain, that the unhappy man cried out, "I am a Roman citizen, I have served under Lucius Pretius, who is now at Panormus, and will attest my innocence." The bloodthirsty prætor, deaf to all that he could urge in his own defence, ordered the infamous punishment to be inflicted. Thus, fathers, was an innocent Roman citizen publicly mangled, with scourging; whilst the only words he uttered amidst his cruel sufferings were, "I am a Roman citizen!" With these he hoped to defend himself from violence, and infamy. But of so little service was this privilege to him, that while he was asserting his citizenship, the order was given for his execution,--for his execution upon the cross! O liberty! O sound, once delightful to every Roman ear! O sacred privilege of Roman citizenship! once--sacred, now--trumpled upon! But what then! is it come to this? Shall an inferior magistrate, a governor, who holds his power of the Roman people, in a Roman province, within sight of Italy, bind, scourge, torture with fire and redhot plates of iron, and at last put to the infamous death of the cross, a Roman citizen? Shall neither the cries of innocence, expiring in agony, nor the tears of pitying spectators, nor the majesty of the Roman commonwealth, nor the justice of his country, restrain the licentious and wanton cruelty of a monster, who, in confidence of his riches, strikes at the root of liberty and sets mankind at defiance? VANITY. -O, vanity, How are thy painted beauties doted on, How they do sweat and run themselves from breath, 728. MOLOCT'S ORATION FOR WAR. My sentence-is for open war: of wires, More unexpert, I boast not; them, let those Contrive, who need; or, when they need; not nɔw For while they sit contriving, shall the rest, Millions, that stand in arms, and longing, wait The signal to ascend, sit lingering here, Heaven's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place, Accept this dark, opprobrious den of shame, The prison of his tyranny, who reigns By our delay! No,-let us rather choose, Armed with hell-flames, and fury, all at ones, O'er heaven's high towers, so force resistless way, Turning our tortures, into horrid armsAgainst the torturer; when, to meet the noise Of his almighty engine, he shall hear Infernal thunder; and, for lightning, see Black fire and horror-shot, with equal rage, Among his angels: and his throne, itself, Mixed with Tartarean sulphur, and strange fire, His own invented torments.-But, perhaps, The way seems difficult, and steep to scale, With upright wing, against a higher foe. Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench, Of that forgetful lake-benumb not still, That in our proper motion, we ascend Up to our native seat: descent, and fall, To us-is adverse. Who, but felt of late, When the fierce foe-hung on our broken rear, Insulting, and pursued us, through the deep, with what compulsion, and laborious fight, We sunk thus low!-The accent is easy then: The event is feared:-should we again provoke Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find, To our destruction; if there be, in hell, Fear to be worse destroyed.--What can be worse, Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss,condemn'i In this abhorred deep-to utter wo; Where pain of unextinguishable fire Must exercise us, without hope of end, The vassals of his anger, when the scourge Inexorable, and the torturing hour Call us to penance ?-Mcre destroyed than thus, We should be quite abolished, and expire. What fear we then?--What doubt we to incense His utmost ire! which, to his height, enraged, Will either quite consume us, or reduce To nothing this essential; happier far, Than miserable to have eternal being; Or, if our substance be indeed divine, And cannot cease to be, we are, at worst, On this side nothing; and, by proof, we fee! Our power sufficient,―to disturb his heaven, And, with perpetual inroad, to alarm, Though inaccessible, his fatal throne; Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.—Mitor, THIS WORLD. "Tis a sad world," said one, "a world of woe, Where sorrow-reigns supreme." Yet froin my The all-sustaining hope did not depart; [hear! But, to its impulse true, I answered-"No! The world hath much of good-nor seldom, joy Over our spirits-broods with radiant wing ; Gladness from grief, and life from death may Treasures are ours the grave cannot destroy;[spring Then chide not harshly—our instructress stern. Whose solemn lessons-wisdom bids us learn 1 729. INFLUENCE OF THE WISE AND GOOD. The relations between man, and man, cease not with life. They leave behind them their memory, their example, and the effects of their actions. Their influence still abides with u. Their names, and characters dwell in our thoughts, and hearts-we live, and commune with them, in their writings. We enoy the benefit of their labors-our institutions have been founded by them-we are surrounded by the works of the dead. Our knowledge, and our arts are the fruit of their toil our minds have been formed by their instructions -we are most intimately connected with them, by a thousand dependencies. Those, whom we have loved in life, are still objects of our deepest, and holiest affections. Their power over us remains. They are with us in our solitary walks; and their voices speak to our hearts in the silence of midnight. Their image is impressed upon our dearest recollections, and our most sacred hopes. They form an essential part of our treasure laid up in heaven For, above all, we are separated from them, but for a little time. We are soon to be united with them. If we follow in the path of those we have loved, we, too, shall soon join the innumerable company of "the spirits of just men made perfect." Our affections, and our hopes, are not buried in the dust, to which we commit the poor remains of mortality. The blessed retain their remembrance, and their love for us in heaven; and we will cherish our remembrance, and our love for them, while on earth. Creatures of imitation, and sympathy as we are, we look around us for support, and countenance, even in our virtues. We recur for them, most securely, to the examples of the dead. There is a degree of insecurity, and uncertainty about living worth. The stamp has not yet been put upon it, which precludes all change, and seals it up as a just object of admiration for future times. There is no greater service, which a man of commanding intellect can render his fellow creatures, than that of leaving behind him an unspotted example. The scythe-had left the withering grass, Through lonely hay-fields musing; For thus "the actions of the just," When Memory hath enshrined them, Their odor leaves behind them..-Barton1. 731. PUBLIC FAITH. To expatiate on the value of public faith-may pass-with some men, for declamation-to such men, I have nothing to say. To others, I will urge-can any circumstance mark upon a people, more tend more to make men think themselves turpitude and debasement? Can anything mean, or degrade, to a lower point, their estimation of virtue, and their standard of action? It would not merely demoralize mankind, it tends to break all the ligaments of society, to dissolve that mysterious charm which attracts individuals to the nation, and to inspire, in its stead, a repulsive sere or shame and disgust. What is patriotism? Is it a narrow affection for the spot, where a man was born! Are the very clods, where we tread, entitled to this ardent preference, because they are greener? No. sir, this is not the character of the virtue, and it soars higher for its object. It is an extended self-love, mingling with all the enjoyments of life, and twisting itself with the minutest filaments of the heart. It is thus we obey the laws of society, because they are the laws of virtue. In their authority we see, not the array of force and If he do not confer upon them this benefit; terror, but the venerable image of our counif he leave a character, dark with vices in the try's honor. Every good citizen makes that sight of God, but dazzling qualities in the honor his own, and cherishes it, not only as view of men; it may be that all his other ser-precious, but as sacred. He is willing to risk vices had better have been forborne, and he had passed inactive, and unnoticed through life. It is a dictate of wisdom, therefore, as well as feeling, when a man, eminent for his virtues and talents, has been taken away, to collect the riches of his goodness, and add them to the treasury of human improvement. The true christian-liveth not for himself; and it is thus, in one respect, that he dieth not for himself.--Norton. 730. HUMAN LIFE. I walk'd the fields-at morning's prime, his life in its defence, and is conscious, that he gains protection while he gives it. For, what rights of a citizen will be deemed inviolable, when a state renounces the principles, that constitute their security? Or, if this life should not be invaded, what would its enjoyments be in a country, odious in the eyes of strangers, and dishonored in his own? Could he look-with affection and veneration, to such a country as his parent? The sense of having one--would die within him; he would blush for his patriotism, if he retained any, and justly, for it would be a vice. He would be a banished man--in his native land.--Fisher Ames. If thou well observe The rule of not too much, by temperance taught, In what thou eat'st and drink'st,seeking from thence Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight, Till many years over thy head return: So mayst thou live, till, like ripe fruit, thou drop Into thy mother's lap, to be with ease |