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I have, also, understood that judges, sometimes, think it their duty to hear, with patience, and to speak with humanity; to ebxort the victim of the laws, and to offer, with tender benignity, his opinions of the motives, by which he was actuated in the crime, of which he had been adjudged guilty; that a judge has thought it 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 his motives, sincerely and truly, and to vindicate the principles, by

which he was actuated.

My lords, it may be a part of the system of angry justice, to bow a man's mind by humiliation-to the purposed ignominy of the scaffold; but worse to me than the purposed shame, or the scaf fold's terrors, would be the shame of such foul and unfounded im

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, and it is the utmost I expect, that your lordships-may suffer it to float down your memories, untainted by the foul breath of preju-putations-as have been laid against me in this court: you, my dice, until it finds some more hospitable harbor-to shelter 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 difficulties 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 vindicate 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 look down, with complacency, on the destruction of that perfidious 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 government standard—a government, which is steeled to barbarity by the cries of the orphans, and the tears of the widows which it has

made.

[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 lords, 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 he means to preserve, even in the grave-to which tyranny consigns him.

[Here, he was again 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 affliction

[Here, he was again interrupted. Lord Norbury said he did not sit there to hear treason.]

I have always understood it to be the duty of a judge, when a prisoner has been convicted, to pronounce the sentence of the law;

lord, are a judge, I am the supposed culprit; I am a man, you are
a man, also; by a revolution of power, we might change places,
though we never could change characters; if I stand at the bar of
this court, and dare not vindicate my character, what a farce is
your justice? If I stand at this bar and dare not vindicate my
character, how dare you calumniate it? Does the sentence of
death, which your unhallowed policy inflicts upon my body, also
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 jus
tice to that reputation, which is to live after me, and which is 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 mo.
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 exculpating 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 me? or rather why insult justice, in demanding of me, why sentence of death should not be pronounced? I know, my lord, that form prescribes 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 proceed.]

I am charged with being an emissary of France! An 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 tribunal of justice reconciles contradictions? No, I am no emissary; and my ambition was-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! 0, my country, was it personal ambition that could influence me! Had 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 myself 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 as an Irishman, determined on delivering my country-from the yoke of a foreign, and unrelenting tyranny, and from the more galling yoke of a domestic faction, which is its joint partner and perpe 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 my country, from this doubly riveted despot. 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 as far as mutual interest would sanction, or require. Were they to assume any authority, inconsistent with the purest independence, it would be the signal for their destruction; we sought aid, and we sought it

as we had assurances we should obtain it; as auxiliaries, in war | have, even for a moment, deviated from those principles of mo and allies, in 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 other; 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 last charge to my countrymen to accomplish; because I should feel conscious 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: I looked indeed for the assistance of France; but I wished to prove to France, and to the world, that Irishmen-deserve to be assisted! That they were indignant at slavery, and ready to assert the independence and liberty of their country.

I wished to procure for my country the guarantee, which Washington 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 come 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 these 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 shaking your blood-stained hand

[Here he was interrupted.]

What, my lord, shall you tell me, on the passage to that scaffold, which that tyranny, of which you are only the intermediary executioner, has erected for my murder,-that I am accountable for all the blood that has, and will be shed, in this struggle of the oppressed-against the oppressor ?-shall you tell me this-and must I be 80 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 falsified by 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 engaged in any cause but that of my country's liberty and independence; 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 debasement at home, or subjection, humiliation, or treachery from abroad; I would not have submitted to a foreign oppressor, for the same 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 my lifeless corpse. Am I, who lived but for my country, and who have subjected myself to the dangers of the jealous and watchful oppressor, and the bondage of the grave, only to give my country

men their rights, and my country her independence, and am I to be loaded with calumny, and not suffered to resent or repel it-No,

God forbid!

If the spirits-of the illustrious dead-participate in the concerns, and cares of those, 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

rality and patriotism, which it was your care to instill into 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 channels, 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 extinguished; my race is run: the grave opens to receive me, and I sink into its bosom! I have but one request to ask at my departure from this world,-it is the charity of its silence!-Let no man write my epitaph: for, as no man, who knows my motives, dare now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them, and me, repose in obscurity, and peace, and my tomb remain uninscribed, until other times, and other men, can do justice to my character: when my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then-and not till then-let my epitaph be written.-I have done. 726. LUCY. Three years she grew, in sun, and shower, Then, Nature said, "a lovelier flower, On earth, was never sown; This child I, to myself, will take; She shall be mine, and I will makeA lady of my own.

Myself will, to my darling, be
Both law, and impulse: and with me,
The girl, on rock and plain,

In earth, and heaven, in glade, and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power,

To kindle, and restrain.

She shall be sportive, as the fawn,
That, wild with glee, across the lawn,

Or up the mountain, springs;
And hers, shall be the breathing balm,
And hers, the silence, and the calm-
Of mute, insensate things.

The floating clouds-their state shall lend
To her; for her-the willow bend;
Nor, shall she fail to see,
Even in the motions of the storm,
Grace, that shall mould the maiden's form,
By silent sympathy.

The stars of midnight--shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear,
In many a secret place,

Where rivulets dance their wayward round;
And beauty, born of murmuring sound,
Shall pass into her face.

And vital feelings of delight-
Shall rear her form-to stately height,

Her virgin bosom swell;
Such thoughts, to Lucy, I will give,
While she, and I, together live,

Here, in this happy dell."

Thus Nature spake. The work was done-
How soon my Lucy's race was run!

She died, and left to me
This heath, this calm, and quiet scene;
The memory-of what has been,

And never more--will be.-Wordsworth. good; not because men esteem it so. When When thou doest good, do it because it is 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.

728. MOLOCH'S ORATION FOR WAR.

727. CICERO'S ORATION AGAINST VERRES. I ask now, Verres, what have you to My sentence-is for open war of wiles, advance against this charge? Will you pre- More unexpert, I boast not; them, let those tend to deny it? Will you pretend that any- Contrive, who need; or, when they need; not now; thing false, that even anything aggravated--For while they sit contriving, shall the rest, 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 without 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, 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--trampled 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,
By light and empty idiots! how pursued
With open and extended appetite!

How they do sweat and run themselves from breath,
Raised on their toes, to catch thy airy forms,
Still turning giddy, till they reel like drunkards,
That buy the merry madness of one hour
With the long irksomeness of following time.
Time flies, and never dies.

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 once,
O'er heaven's high towers, to force resistless way,
Turning our tortures, into horrid arms-
Against 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 ascent 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'd
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 ?-More 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 feel
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.-Milton.
""Tis a sad world," said one,
"a world of woe,
Where sorrow--reigns supreme." Yet from my
The all-sustaining hope did not depart; [heart

THIS WORLD.

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

729. INFLUENCE OF THE WISE AND GOOD. I 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 us. Their names, and characters dwell in our thoughts, and hearts-we live, and commune with them, in their writings. We enjoy 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.

If he do not confer upon them this benefit; if he leave a character, dark with vices in the sight of God, but dazzling qualities in the view of men; it may be that all his other services 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,
The grass-was ripe for mowing:
The sky-lark-sung his matin chime,
And all-was brightly glowing.
"And thus," I cried, the "ardent boy,
His pulse, with rapture beating,
Deems life's inheritance-his joy-
The future-proudly greeting."
I wandered forth at noon:--alas!
On earth's materal bosom

The scythe--had left the withering grass,
And stretch'd the fading blossom.
And thus, I thought with many a sigh,

The hopes-we fondly cherish,
Like flowers, which blossom, but to die,
Seem only born-to perish.

Once more, at eve, abroad I stray'd,

Through lonely hay-fields musing; While every breeze, that round me play'd, Rich fragrance--was diffusing.

The perfumed air, the hush of eve,
To purer hopes appearing,
O'er thoughts perchance too prone to grieve,
Scatter'd the balm of healing.

For thus "the actions of the just,"

When Memory hath enshrined them,
E'en from the dark and silent dust

Their odor leaves behind them.-Barton. 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 sense of 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 terror, but the venerable image of our country's honor. Every good citizen makes that honor his own, and cherishes it, not only as precious, but as sacred. He is willing to risk 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.

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732. POLITICAL CORRUPTION. We are apt to treat the idea of our own corruptibility, as utterly visionary, and to ask, with a grave affectation of dignity-what! do you think a member of congress can be corrupted? Sir, I speak, what I have long and deliberately considered, when I say, that since man was created, there never has been a political body on the face of the earth, that would not be corrupted under the same circumstances. Corruption steals upon us, in a thousand insidious forms, when we are least aware of its approaches.

Of all the forms, in which it can present itself, the bribery of office-is the most dangerous, because it assumes the guise of patriotism-to accomplish its fatal sorcery. We are often asked, where is the evidence of corruption? Have you seen it? Sir, do you expect to see it? You might, as well, expect to see the embodied forms of pestilence, and famine-stalking before you, as to see the latent operations of this insidious power. We may walk amidst it, and breathe its contagion, without being conscious of its presence.

All experience teaches us-the irresistible power of temptation, when vice-assumes the form of virtue. The great enemy of mankind could not have consummated his infernal scheme, for the seduction of our first parents, but for the disguise, in which he presented himself. Had he appeared as the devil, in his proper form: had the spear of Ithuriel-disclosed the naked deformity of the fiend of hell, the inhabitants of paradise would have shrunk with horror from his presence.

But he came--as the insinuating serpent, and presented a beautiful apple, the most delicious fruit in all the garden. He told his glowing story to the unsuspecting victim of his guile. It can be no crime-to taste of this delightful fruit. It will disclose to you the knowledge of good, and evil. It will raise you to an equality with the angels."

Such, sir, was the process; and, in this simple, but impressive narrative, we have the most beautiful and philosophical illustration of the frailty of man, and the power of temptation, that could possibly be exhibited. Mr. Chairman, I have been forcibly struck, with the similarity, between our present situation, and that of Eve, after it was announced, that Satan was on the borders of paradise. We, too, have been warned, that the enemy is on our borders.

Without it, human affairs would become a mere stagnant pool. By means of his patronage, the president addresses himself in the most irresistible manner, to this the noblest and strongest of our passions. All that the imagination can desire--honor, power, wealth, ease, are held out as the temptation. Man was not made to resist such temptation. It is impossible to conceive,--Satan himself could not devise, a system, which would more infallibly introduce corruption and death into our political Eden. Sir, the angels fell from heaven with less temptation.-McDuffie.

733. CATO'S SOLILOQUY ON IMMORTALITY.

It must be so-Plato, thou reasonest well!
Else, whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing-after immortality?
Or, whence-this secret dread, and inward horror,
Of falling-into nought? Why-shrinks the soul-
Back on herself, and startles-at destruction?—
Tis the Divinity-that stirs within us:
'Tis Heaven itself, that points out-a hereafter,
And intimates-Eternity-to man.
Eternity!-thou pleasing-dreaful thought!
Through what variety-of untried being, [pass!
Through what new scenes, and changes, must we
The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me;
But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon

Here

it.

will I hold. If there's a Power above us, (And that there is, all Nature cries aloudThrough all her works,) He must delight in virtue: And that, which He delights in must be happy. But when? or where? This world-was made

for Cesar?

I'm weary of conjectures-this-must end them.—
[Laying his hand on his sword.
Thus-I am doubly armed. My death--and life,
My bane--and antidote, are both before me.
This-in a moment, brings me to an end;
But this-informs me-I shall never die.
The soul, secured in her existence, smiles-
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.—
The stars-shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years;
But thou shalt flourish-in immortal youth,
Unhurt-amidst the war of elements,
The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.

GRAVE OF THE RENOWNED.

IDLENESS-- is the badge of gentry, the bane of body and mind, the nurse of naugh tiness, the step-mother of discipline, the chief But God forbid that the similitude should be author of all mischief, one of the seven deadcarried any farther. Eve, conscious of her ly sins, the cushion upon which the devil innocence, sought temptation and defied it. chiefly reposes, and a great cause not only of The catastrophe is too fatally known to us melancholy, but of many other diseases: for all. She went, "with the blessings of heaven the mind is naturally active; and if it be not on her head, and its purity in her heart," occupied about some honest business, it rush guarded by the ministry of angels-she re-es into mischief, or sinks into melancholy. turned covered with shame, under the heavy denunciation of heaven's everlasting curse. Sir, it is innocence--that temptation conquers. If our first parent, pure as she came from the hand of God, was overcome by the seductive power, let us not imitate her fatal rashness, seeking temptation, when it is in our power to avoid it. Let us not vainly confide in our own infallibility. We are liable to be corrupted. To an ambitious man, an honorable office will appear as beautiful and fascinating--as the apple of paradise. I admit, sir, that ambition is a passion, at once the most powerful and the most useful.

[beam

When, to the grave, we follow the renowned
For valor, virtue, science, all we love,
And all we praise; for worth, whose noontide
Mends our ideas of ethereal pow'rs,
Dream we, that lustre of the moral world
Goes out in stench, and rottenness the close?
Why was he wise to know, and warm to praise,
And strenuous to transcribe, in human life,
The mind almighty! could it be that fate,
Just when the lineaments began to shine,
Should snatch the draught, and blot it out forever.

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