tant brethren! to lay waste their country, | an effort almost beyond the powers of his to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate constitution to come down to the house on their race and name by the aid and instru- this day, perhaps the last time he should mentality of these horrible hell-hounds of ever be able to enter its walls, to express war! Spain can no longer boast pre-emi- the indignation he felt at the idea which he nence in barbarity. She armed herself with understood was gone forth of yielding up blood-hounds to extirpate the wretched the sovereignty of America. 'My lords', natives of Mexico; we, more ruthless, loose continued he, 'I rejoice that the grave has these dogs of war against our countrymen not closed upon me, that I am still alive to in America, endeared to us by every tie lift up my voice against the dismemberment that can sanctify humanity. I solemnly call of this ancient and noble monarchy. Pressed upon your lordships, and upon every order down as I am by the load of infirmity, I am of men in the state, to stamp upon this in- little able to assist my country in this most famous procedure the indelible stigma of perilous conjuncture; but, my lords, while I the public abhorrence. More particularly I have sense and memory, I never will concall upon the holy prelates of our religion sent to tarnish the lustre of this nation by to do away this iniquity; let them perform an ignominious surrender of its rights and a lustration, to purify the country from this fairest possessions. Shall a people so lately deep and deadly sin. My lords, I am old the terror of the world, now fall prostrate and weak, and at present unable to say before the house of Bourbon? It is imposmore; but my feelings and indignation sible! In God's name, if it is absolutely were too strong to have said less. I could necessary to declare either for peace or war, not have slept this night in my bed, nor and if peace cannot be preserved with even reposed my head upon my pillow, honour, why is not war commenced without without giving vent to my eternal abhor- hesitation? I am not, I confess, well inrence of such enormous and preposterous formed of the resources of this kingdom, principles. but I trust it has still sufficient to maintain its just rights, though I know them not. Any state, my lords, is better than despair. Let us at least make one effort, and if we must fall, let us fall like men.'"

The last public appearance and death of Lord Chatham are thus described by WILLIAM BELSHAM (1753-1827), essayist and historian, in his History of Great Britain:

The mind feels interested in the minutest circumstances relating to the last day of the public life of this renowned statesman and patriot. He was dressed in a rich suit of black velvet, with a full wig, and covered up to the knees in flannel. On his arrival in the house, he refreshed himself in the lord chancellor's room, where he stayed till prayers were over, and till he was informed that business was going to begin. He was then led into the house by his son and sonin-law, Mr. William Pitt and Lord Viscount Mahon, all the lords standing up out of respect, and making a lane for him to pass to the earl's bench, he bowing very gracefully to them as he proceeded. He looked pale and much emaciated, but his eye retained all its native fire; which, joined to his gen eral deportment, and the attention of the house, formed a spectacle very striking and impressive.

When the Duke of Richmond had sat down, Lord Chatham rose, and began by lamenting "that his bodily infirmities had so long and at so important a crisis prevented his attendance on the duties of parliament. He declared that he had made

The Duke of Richmond, in reply, declared himself to be "totally ignorant of the means by which we were to resist with success the combination of America with the house of Bourbon. He urged the noble lord to point out any possible mode, if he were able to do it, of making the Americans renounce that independence of which they were in possession. His Grace added, that if he could not, no man could; and that it was not in his power to change his opinion on the noble lord's authority, unsupported by any reasons but a recital of the calamities arising from a state of things not in the power of this country now to alter."

Lord Chatham, who had appeared greatly moved during the reply, made an eager effort to rise at the conclusion of it, as if labouring with some great idea, and impatient to give full scope to his feelings; but before he could utter a word, pressing his hand on his bosom, he fell down suddenly in a convulsive fit. The Duke of Cumber land, Lord Temple, and other lords near him, caught him in their arms. The house was immediately cleared; and his lordship being carried into an adjoining apartment,

The ordinary feelings which make life 1836-40,) several series of the Diplomatic Corresponamiable and indolent were unknown to him. dence of the United States, and wrote a "Life of GouverNo domestic difficulties, no domestic weak-neur Morris" (3 vols.) Dr. Sparks was professor of hisness, reached him; but aloof from the sordid tory at Harvard ten years, and President of the college occurrences of life, and unsullied by its in- from 1849 to 1853]. tercourse, he came occasionally into our system to counsel and to decide.

where it met with a kindred impulse, was nourished in every breast, and became rooted in the feelings of the whole people.

The revolution was a change of forms, but not of substance; the breaking of a tie, but not the creation of a principle; the establishment of an independent nation, but not the origin of its intrinsic political capacities. The foundations of society, although unsettled for the moment, were not essentially disturbed; its pillars were shaken, but never overthrown. The convulsions of war subsided, and the people found themselves, in their local relations and customs, their immediate privileges and enjoyments, just where they had been at the beginning. The new forms transferred the supreme authority from the King and Parliament of Great Britain to the hands of the people. This was a gain, but not a renovation; a security against future encroachments, but not an exemption from any old duty, nor an imposition of any new one, farther than that of being at the trouble to govern them selves.

a torch is the cause of a conflagration, kindling the flame, but not creating the combustible materials. Effects then became causes, and the triumphant opposition to this tax was the cause of its being renewed on tea and other articles, not so much it was avowed, for the amount of revenue it would yield, as to vindicate the principle, that Parliament had a right to tax the colonies. The people resisted the act, and destroyed the tea, to show that they likewise had a principle, for which they felt an equal concern.

By these experiments on their patience, and these struggles to oppose them, their confidence was increased, as the tree gains strength at its root, by the repeated blasts of the tempest against its branches. From this time a mixture of causes was at work; the pride of power, the disgrace of defeat, the arrogance of office, on the one hand; a sense of wrong, indignant feeling, an enthusiasm for liberty on the other. These were secondary, having slight connection with the first springs of the Revolution, or the pervading force by which it was kept up, although important filaments in the network of history.

Hence the latent cause of what has been called a revolution was the fact, that the political spirit and habits in America had waxed into a shape so different from those The acts of the Revolution derive dignity in England, that it was no longer convenient and interest from the character of the actors, to regulate them by the same forms. In and the nature and magnitude of the events. words, the people had grown to be kings, It has been remarked, that in all great poand chose to exercise their sovereign pre-litical revolutions, men have arisen, posrogatives in their own way. Time alone would have effected the end, probably without so violent an explosion, had it not been hastened by particular events, which may be denominated the proximate causes.

exactness. In either case, however, no period has been adorned with examples more illustrious, or more perfectly adapted to the high destiny awaiting them, than that of the American Revolution.

sessed of extraordinary endowments, adequate to the exigency of the time. It is true enough, that such revolutions, or any remarkable and continued exertions of human power, must be brought to pass by correThese took their rise at the close of the sponding qualities in the agents; but whether French war, twelve years before the actual the occasion makes the men, or men the occontest began. Relieved from future appre-casion, may not always be ascertained with hensions of the French power on the frontiers, the colonists now had leisure to think of themselves, of their political affairs, their numbers, their united strength. At this juncture, the most inauspicious possible for the object in view, the precious device of taxing the colonies was resorted to by the British ministry, which, indeed, had been for some time a secret scheme in the cabinet, and had been recommended by the same sagacious governor of Virginia, who found the people in such a republican way of acting, that he could not manage them to his purpose.

The fruit of this policy was the Stamp Act, which has been considered a primary cause; and it was so, in the same sense that

Statesmen were at hand, who, if not skilled in the art of governing empires, were thoroughly imbued with the principles of just government, intimately acquainted with the history of former ages, and, above all, with the condition, sentiments and feelings of their countrymen. If there were no Richelieus nor Mazarins, no Cecils nor Chathams, in America, there were men, who, like Themistocles, knew how to raise a small state to glory and greatness.

The eloquence and the internal counsels

of the Old Congress were never recorded; we know them only in their results; but that assembly, with no other power than that conferred by the suffrage of the people, with no other influence than that of their public virtue and talents, and without precedent to guide their deliberations, unsupported even by the arm of law or of ancient usages-that assembly levied troops, imposed taxes, and for years not only retained the confidence and upheld the civil existence of a distracted country, but carried through a perilous war under its most aggravating burdens of sacrifice and suffering. Can we imagine a situation, in which were required higher moral courage, more intelligence and talent, a deeper insight into human nature and the principles of social and political organizations, or, indeed, any of those qualities which constitute greatness of character in a statesman? See, likewise, that work of wonder, the Confederation, a union of independent states, constructed in the very heart of a desolating war, but with a beauty and strength, imperfect as it was, of which the ancient leagues of the Amphictyons, the Achæans, the Lycians, and the modern confederacies of Germany, Holland, Switzerland, afford neither exemplar nor parallel.

In their foreign affairs these same statesmen showed no less sagacity and skill, taking their stand boldly in the rank of nations, maintaining it there, competing with the tactics of practised diplomacy, and extorting from the powers of the world not only the homage of respect, but the proffers of friendship.

The American armies, compared with the embattled legions of the old world, were small in numbers, but the soul of a whole people centred in the bosom of these more than Spartan bands, and vibrated quickly and keenly with every incident that befell them, whether in their feats of valour, or the acuteness of their sufferings. The country itself was one wide battle-field, in which not merely the life-blood, but the dearest inteindivirests, the sustaining hopes, of every dual, were at stake. It was not a war of pride and ambition between monarchs, in which an island or a province might be the award of success; it was a contest for personal liberty and civil rights, coming down in its principles to the very sanctuary of home and the fireside, and determining for every man the measure of responsibility he should hold over his own condition, possessions, and happiness. The spectacle was grand

and new, and may well be cited as the most glowing page in the annals of progressive man.

NOONDAY CELEBRATED.

[JUAN MELENDEZ VALDES, a Spanish poet of much

grace and power, was born at Ribera, in 1754, died at Montpellier, in 1817. He wrote a pastoral comedy, was appointed professor in Saragossa, and in 1785 established his reputation by the publication of his “ Poesias Lyricas."]

NOON.

The Sun, 'midst shining glory now concealed
Upon heaven's highest seat,
Darts straightway down upon the parched
field

His fierce and burning heat;

And on revolving Noonday calls, that he
His flushed and glowing face
May show the world, and, rising from the sea,
Aurora's reign displace.

The

wandering Wind now rests his weary
wings,

And hushed in silence broods;
And all the vocal choir of songsters sings
Among the whispering woods.

And sweetly warbling on his oaten pipe

His own dear shepherd-maid,
The herdboy leads along his flock of sheep
To the sequestered shade;

Where shepherd youths and maids in secret

In

bowers

In song and feast unite,
joyful band, to pass the sultry hours
Of their siesta light.

All, all is calm and silent. O how sweet,
On this enamelled ground,
At ease recumbent, from its flowery seat
To cast your eyes around!