[wild 707. THE STREAM OF LIFE. Life-bears | In park, in city, yea, in routs and balls, us on like the stream of a mighty river. Our The hat was worn, and borne. Then folks grew boat, at first glides down the narrow channel, through the playful murmurings of the little brook, and the windings of its grassy border. The trees shed their blossoms over our young heads, the flowers, on the brink, seem to offer themselves to our young hands; we are happy in hope, and we grasp eagerly, at the beauties around us; but the stream hurries on, and still our hands are empty. Our course in youth, and manhood, is along a wider, and deeper flood, and amid objects more striking, and magnificent. We are animated by the moving picture of enjoyment, and industry, which passes before us; we are excited by some short-lived success, or depressed, and made miserable, by some equally short-lived disappointment. But our energy, and our dependence are both in vain. The stream bears us on, and our joys, and our griefs, are alike, left behind us; we may be shipwrecked, but we cannot anchor; our voyage may be hastened, but it cannot be delayed; whether rough or smooth, the river hastens towards its home, till the roaring of the ocean is in our ears, and the tossing of the waves is beneath our keel; and the lands lessen from our eyes, and the floods are lifted up around us, and the earth loses sight of us, and we take our last leave of earth, and of its inhabitants; and of our further voyage, there is no witness, but the Infinite and the Eternal. And do we still take so much anxious thought for future days, when the days which have gone by, have so strangely, and uniformly deceived us? Can we still so set our hearts on the creatures of God, when we find by sad experience, the Creator only is permanent? Or, shall we not rather lay aside every weight, and every sin which doth most easily beset us, and think of ourselves, henceforth, as wayfaring persons only, who have no abiding inheritance, but in the hope of a better world, and to whom even that world would be worse than hopeless, if it were not for our Lord Jesus Christ, and the interest we have obtained in his mercies. 708. THE OLD HAT. I had a hat-it was not all a hat- A change came o'er the color of my hat. That, which was black, grew brown, and then With both their eyes (they stared with one before); And frosty winter came, and went, and came- With curiosity, and whispers rose, Of Israel's fated race and friends once inore And last, not least of rescued blessings, love- But larger means to gratify the will? The man, who builds, and lacks wherewith to pay, 1 709. LOCHINVAR. 708. CHARACTER OF PITT. The secretary-stood alone; modern degeneracy-had O young Lochinvar is come out of the west, not reached him. Original, and unaccommodating, the features of his character-had the hardihood of antiquity. His august mind overawed majesty: and one of his sovereigns thought royalty-so impaired in his presence, that he conspired to remove him, in order to be relieved from his superiority. No state chicanery, no narrow system of vicious politics, sank him to the vulgar level of the great; bt overbearing, persuasive, and impracticade, his object-was England, his ambition was fame. Without dividing, he destroyed party; without corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous. France sank beneath him. With one hand, he smote the house of Bourbon, and wielded, with the other, the democracy of England. The sight of his mind was infinite; and his schemes were to affect, not England, and the present age only, but Europe, and posterity. Wonderful were the means, by which these schemes were accomplished; always seasonable, always adequate, the suggestions of an understanding, animated by ardor, and enlightened by prophecy. The ordinary feelings, which rende: life amiable, and indolent, were unknown to him. No domestic difficulty, no domestic weakness reached him; but, aloof from the sordid occurrences of life, and unsullied by its intercourse, he came, occasionally, into our system, to counsel, and to decide. A character so exalted, so strenuous, so various, and so authoritative, astonished a corrupt age; and the Treasury trembled at the name of Pitt, thro' all her classes of venality. Corruption imagined, indeed, that she had found defects in this statesman; and talked much of the ruin of his victories; but the history of his country, and the calamities of the enemy, refuted her. Nor were his political abilities-his only talents: his eloquence-was an era in the senate; peculiar, and spontaneous, familiarly expressing gigantic sentiments, and instinctive wisdom; not like the torrent of Demosthenes, or the splendid conflagration of Tully, it resembled sometimes the thunder, and sometimes the music of the spheres. He did not, like Murray, conduct the understanding through the painful subtlety of argumentation, nor was he, like Townshend, forever on the rack of exertion; but, rather, lightened upon the subject, and reached the point by flashings of the mind, which, like those of his eye, were felt, but could not be followed. Upon the whole, there was something in this man, that could create, subvert, or reform; an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence, to summon mankind to society, or to break the bonds of slavery asunder, and to rule the wilderness of free minds with unbounded authority - something that could establish, or overwhelm empires, and strike a blow in the world, which should resound throughout the universe. -Grattan. Reward him for the noble deed, just Heaven! [none. Thro' all the wide border, his steed was the best- var." The bride kiss'd the goblet, the knight took it up, and plume, They'll have swift steeds that follow," quoth The good merchant wrongs not the buyer The public papers-have announced an event, which is well calculated to excite the sympathy -of every American bosom. KOSCIUSKO, the martyr of Liberty, is no more! We are informed, that he died at Soleure, in France, some time in October last. In tracing the events of this great man's life, we find in him, that consistency of conduct, which is the more to be admired, as it is so rarely to be net with. He was not, at one time, the friend of mankind, and at another, the instrument of their oppression; but he preserved, throughout his whole carcer, those noble principles, which distinguished him in its commencement; which influenced him, at an early period of his life, to leave his country-and his friends, and, in another hemisphere, to fight for the rights of humanity. Kosciusko was born, and educated, in Poland; (of a noble, and distinguished family,) a country, where the distinctions in society are, perhaps, carried to greater lengths, than in any other. His Creator had, however, endowed him with a soul capable of rising above the narrow prejudices of a caste, and breaking the shackles, which a vicious education had imposed on his mind. When he was very young, he was informed, by the voice of Fame, that the standard of liberty had been erected in America-that an insulted and oppressed people-had determined to be free, or perish-in the attempt. His ardent and generous mind-caught, with enthusiasm, the holy flame, and from that moment he became the dovoted soldier of liberty. His rank in the American army-afforded him no opportunity--greatly to erty, and independence, was a work of as much difficulty, as danger. But, to a mind like Kosciusko's, the difficulty, and danger of an enterprise -served as stimulants to the undertaking. The annals of those times-give us no detailed account of the progress of Kosciusko, in accomplishing his great work, from the period of his return to America, to the adoption of the new constitution of Poland, in 1791. This interval, however, of apparent inaction, was most usefully employed to illumine the mental darkness, which enveloped his countrymen. To stimulate the igfuture emancipation to teach a proud, but galnorant and bigotted peasantry with the hope of lant nobility, that true glory is only to be found, in the paths and duties of patriotism; -interests the most opposed, prejudices-the most stubborn, and habits-the most inveterate, were reconciled, dissipated, and broken, by the ascendancy of his virtues and example. The storm, which he had foreseen, and for which he had been preparing, at length burst upon Poland. A feeble and unpopular government-bent before its fury, and submitted itself to the Russian yoke of the invader. But the nation disdained to follow its example; in their extremity, every eye was turned on the hero, who had already fought their battles, the sage, who had enlightened them, and the patriot, who had set the example of personal sacrificesto accomplish the emancipation of the people. distinguish himself. But he was remarkable--throughout the career of victory, which, for a through his service, for all the qualities which adorn the human character. His heroic valor in the field, could only be equaled-by his moderation and affability, in the walks of private life. He was idolized by the soldiers for his bravery, and beloved and respected by the officers, for the goodness of his heart, and the great qualities of his mind. alissimo of Poland, with unlimited powers, until Kosciusko-was unanimously appointed generthe enemy should be driven from the country. On his virtue, the nation reposed with the utmost confidence; and it is some consolation to reflect, amidst the general depravity of mankind, that two instances, in the same age, have occurred, where powers of this kind were employed-solely for the purposes for which they were given. It is not my intention, sir, to follow the Polish chief considerable time, crowned his efforts. Guided by his talents, and led by his valor, his undisciplined, ill-armed militia-charged, with effect, the rassiers of the great Frederic, for the first time, veteran Russian and Prussian; the mailed cuibroke-and fled, before the lighter, and more appropriate cavalry of Poland. Hope filled the breasts of the patriots. After a long night, the dawn of an apparently glorious day-broke upon Poland. But to the discerning eye of Kosciusko, the light which it shed-was of that sickly, and portentous appearance, indicating a storm more dreadrul than that, which he had resisted. Contributing greatly, by his exertions, to the establishment of the independence of America, he might have remained, and shared the blessings it dispensed, under the protection of a chief, who loved and honored him, and in the bosom of a grateful and affectionate people. Kosciusko had, however, other views. It is not known, that until the period I am speaking of, he had formed any distinct idea of what could, or indeed what ought to be done for his own country. But in the Revolutionary war, he drank, deeply, of the principles, which produced it. In his conversations with the intelligent men of our country, he acqui--to a second Arnold. The day at length came red new views of the science of government, and He prepared to meet it with firmness, but with means entirely inadequate. To the advantages of numbers, of tactics, of discipline, and inexhaustible resources, the combined despots had secured a faction-in the heart of Poland. And, if that country-can boast of having produced its Washington, it is disgraced also, by giving birth which was to decide the fate of a nation and a of the rights of man. He had seen, too, that, to hero. Heaven, for wise purposes, permitted that he free, it was only necessary that a nation should will it; and to be happy, it was only necessary that a nation should be free. And was it not possible to procure these blessings for Poland! for Poland, the country of his birth, which had a claim to all his efforts, to all his services? it should be the last of Polish liberty. It was decided, indeed, before the battle commenced. The traitor, Poniski, who covered, with a detachment, the advance of the Polish army, abandoned his position to the enemy, and retreated. That unhappy nation-groaned under a complication of evils, which has scarcely a parallel in history. The mass of people were the abject slaves of the nobles; the nobles, torn into factions, were alternately the instruments, and the victims, of their powerful and ambitious neighbors. By intrigue, corruption, and force, some of its fairest provinces had been separated from the republic, and the people, like beasts, transferred to foreign despots, who were again watching for a favorable moment-for a second dismemberment. To regenerate a people-thus debased, to obtain for a country-thus circumstanced, the blessings of lib-nally-lost-to their view. The disposition of his army would have done Kosciusko-was astonished, but not dismayed. honor to Hannibal. The succeeding conflict was terrible. When the talents of the general-could no longer direct the mingled mass of combatants, the arm of the warrior was brought to the aid of his soldiers. He performed prodigies of valor. The fabled prowess of Ajax, in defending the Grecian ships-was realized by the Polish hero. Nor was he badly seconded by his troops. As long as his voice could guide, or his example fire their valor, they were irresistible. In this unequal contest-Kosciusko-was long seen, and fi "Hope for a season, bade the world-farewell, And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell." He fell, covered with wounds, but still survived. A Cossack would have pierced his breast, when an officer interposed. "Suffer him to execute his purpose," said the bleeding hero; "I am the devoted soldier of my country, and will not survive its liberties." The name of Kosciusko-struck to the heart of the Tartar, like that of Mariusupon the Cimbrian warrior. The uplifted weapon-dropped-from his hand. Kosciusko-was conveyed to the dungeons of Petersburgh; and, to the eternal disgrace of the Empress Catharine, she made him the object of her vengeance, when he could no longer be the object of her fears. Her more generous son-restored him to liberty. The remainder of his lifehas been spent in virtuous retirement. Whilst in this situation, in France, an anecdote is related of him, which strongly illustrates the command, which his virtues and his services had obtainedover the minds of his countrymen. In the late invasion of France, some Polish regiments, in the service of Russia, passed through the village in which he lived. Some pillaging of the inhabitants brought Kosciusko from his cottage. "When I was a Polish soldier," said he, addressing the plunderers, "the property of the peaceful citizen was respected." "And who art thou," said an officer, "who addressest us with this tone of authority?" "I am Kosciusko." There was a magic in the word. It ran from corps to corps, from heart to heart. The march was suspended. They gathered round him, and gazed-with astonishment, and awe-upon the mighty ruin-he presented. "Could it, indeed, be their hero," whose fame was identified with that of their country? A thousand interesting reflections burst upon their minds; they remembered his patriotism, his devotion to liberty, his triumphs, and his glorious fall. Their iron hearts were softened, and the tear of sensibility trickled down their weather-beaten faces. We can easily conceive, sir, what would be the feeling of the hero himself in such a scene. His great heart must have heaved with emotion to find himself once more surrounded by the companions of his glory; and that he would have been upon the point of saying to them, "Behold your general, come once more The delusion could have lasted but for a moment. He was himself, alas! a miserable cripple; and, for them! they were no longer the soldiers of liberty, but the instruments of ambition and tyranny. Overwhelmed with grief at the reflection, he would retire to his cottage, to mourn afresh over the miseries of his country. Such-was the man, sir, for whose memory I ask from an American congress, a slight tribute of respect. Not, sir, to perpetuate his fame, but our gratitude. His fame-will last as long as liberty-remains upon the earth; as long as a votary-offers incense upon her altar, the name of Kosciusko-will be invoked. And if, by the common consent of the world, a temple shall be erected to those, who have rendered most service to mankind-if the statue of our great countryman, Washington.-shall occupy the place of the "Most Worthy," that of Kosciusco will be found by his side, and the wreath of laurel-will be entwined with the palm of virtue--to adorn his brow. Oh grief, beyond all other griefs, when fate 712. THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. Under a spreading chestnut tree, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms, Are strong, as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long; His brow-is wet with honest sweat; Week out, week in, from morn till night, Look in at the open door; He goes, on Sunday, to the church, He hears the parson-pray and preach, Singing-in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. He needs must think of her once more, And with his hard--rough hand he wipes Onward--through life he goes: Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Our fortunes must be wrought; There's a tear that falls when we part With whom we forever could dwell, But bitter, indeed, is the sorrow that flows [ever. Is past, and forgotten our pain; For sweet is the tear we at such moments shed, When we behold the lov'd object again-forever. 713. LAY OF THE MADMAN. "This is the foul fiend! He begins at curfew, and walks till How long-I have been in this dungeon here, Till one of the fiends, that had come to bring Gods! how I crush'd-his hated bones! 'Gainst the jagged wall, and the dungeon-stones; And held it up, that I might gloat, Ho! when I break its links again, Yet 'tis not always thus; sweet slumber steals Visions of hope, and beauty-seem Trickle my haggard visage o'er! They called me mad-they left me here, Had pierced the gloom of this endless night; They come again! They tear my brain! * * * * * They seize my heart!-they choke my breath! Death!-death! ah, welcome death!-R. M. С. It is a very poor, though common, pretence to merit, to make it appear by the faults of other men: a mean wit, or beauty, may pass in a room, where the rest of the company are allowed to have none: it is something to sparkle among diamonds; but to shine among pebbles, is neither credit nor value worth the pretending. BEST CURE FOR TROUBLE. Ben Brisk-a philosopher was, In the genuine sense of the word; And he held, that repining, whatever the cause, When Mat Mope-was assaulted by Trouble, Tom Tipple, when trouble intruded, But Ben--had a way of his own, When grievances--made him uneasy; When sorrow embitters our days, And poisons each source of enjoyment; The surest specific, he says, For Trouble, and Grief is-Employment. |