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The troubled Tiber chafing with his shores,
And swim to yonder point?—Upon the word,
And bade him follow: so indeed he did.
Did from the flames of Troy, upon his shoulder
Is now become a god; and Cassius is
A wretched creature, and must bend his body,
He had a fever when he was in Spain,
And when the fit was on him, I did mark
How he did shake. 'Tis true, this god did shake— His coward lips did from their colour fly,
And that same eye, whose bend does awe the world,
Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
So get the start of the majestic world,
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Men at some times are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Brutus and Cæsar-what should be in that Cæsar?
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Upon what meat does this our Cæsar feed,
That he has grown so great?-Age, thou art shamed!
Oh! you and I have heard our fathers say,
There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd
ENGLAND was great and glorious while her religion was Popery. She then reared her head above the nations, outstripped them all in the career of improvement, and soared above them towards the heaven of liberty. great charter of her freedom was then wrested from unwilling power: commerce and manufactures were raising her citizens, burgesses, and merchants, to wealth and intelligence, and placing them side by side with her barons; while, from contending elements, arose the harmony of representative government. She was great while that change called Reformation was proceeding, or retarded, or subsiding into
fixedness, through successive reigns. She then began to wave her flag of sovereignty over the sea; her laws were framed in wisdom; and her literature, splendid in genius, profound in learning, and mighty in originality, advanced with giant step. She was great at that tremendous period when the crown was trampled in the dust, a regal head fell on the scaffold, and Cromwell sat on an ungarnished throne. Episcopacy was not her religion then. The Church of England fled to the wilderness; the mitre was crushed under sectarian feet, and the crosier snapped asunder by unconsecrated hands:-yet then she was great; not a nation but cringed for her friendship, and trembled at her frown. Was there persecution, oppression, or insult, on the Continent? she lifted her voice of thunder, and Europe's hills were moved; her mountains quaked and trembled to their foundations. And while Episcopacy has been Church-of-Englandism, our country has been great and glorious still; yes, through vicissitude, great; in adversity and disappointment, in privation and suffering, in all changes and chances, in arms and arts, in literature and benevolence. The monuments of her majesty reflect the glittering of every star of heaven; and not a wind can blow that has not wafted from her shores some freight of charity. And she would be great, were this patronized sect lost in oblivion, with all its robes, and forms, and wealth, and creeds: still to her would the nations look, as to an elder sister of the earth, pre-eminent in wisdom, grace, and majesty.
Yes; England, independently of adventitious circumstances, or predominant sects, must be admired and loved by all who can rightly think and feel; nor would the hand that might not object to pull down the clustering ivy from the oak, whose strength it wasted, and impaired its beauty, touch profanely one leaf of the hallowed tree. Oh, my country!-land of my birth, my love, and my pride-land of freedom and of glory-land of bards and heroes, of statesmen, philosophers, and patriots-land of Alfred and of
Sydney, of Hampden and of Russel, of Newton, Locke, and Milton; may thy security, liberty, generosity, peace, and pre-eminence, be eternal! May thy children prize their birthright, and well guard and extend their privileges! From the annals of thy renown, the deeds of thy worthies, the precious volumes of thy sages, may they imbibe the love of freedom, of virtue, of their country! May the pure gospel be their portion! Through every future age, may they arise, as of yore, the protectors of the oppressed, the terror of tyrants, the guardians of the rights and peace of nations, the champions of civil and religious liberty; and may they be the possessors and diffusers of genuine Christianity to all countries, through all generations!
THE seal is set.-Now welcome thou dread power!
And here the buzz of eager nations ran, In murmur'd pity or loud-roar'd applause, As man was slaughter'd by his fellow man! And wherefore slaughter'd?—wherefore, but because Such were the bloody Circus' genial laws, And the Imperial pleasure! Wherefore not? What matters where we fall to fill the maws Of worms-on battle-plains or listed spot! Both are but theatres where the chief actors rot.
I see before me the Gladiator lie:
He leans upon his hand-his manly brow
The arena swims around him!—He is gone,
Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who
He heard it, but he heeded not: his eyes
Were with his heart, and that was far away:
All this rush'd with his blood. Shall be expire,
IT must be so- -Plato, thou reason'st well!
Or, whence this secret dread and inward horror
'Tis Heaven itself, that points out—an hereafter,
Eternity!-thou pleasing, dreadful thought!
Through what variety of untried being,
Through what new scenes and changes must we pass! The wide-the unbounded prospect, lies before me;