Nor. So I am;

And who is Norval, in Glenalvon's eyes?

Glen. A peasant's son,- a wandering beggar boy; At best, no more, even if he speak the truth.

Nor. False as thou art, dost thou suspect my truth? Glen. Thy truth! Thou'rt all a lie, and false as fiends, Is the vain-glorious tale thou told'st to Randolph.

Nor. If I were chained, unarmed, or bed-rid old,
Perhaps I might revile; but as I am,

I have no tongue to rail. The humble Norval
Is of a race, who strive not but with deeds!
Did I not fear to freeze thy shallow valor,
And make thee sink too soon beneath my sword,
I'd tell thee what thou art-I know thee well.
Glen. Dost thou not know Glenalvon, born to rule
Ten thousand slaves like thee?

Nor. Villain! no more;

Draw, and defend thy life. [They draw their swords.] I did design To have defied thee in another cause;

But Heaven accelerates its vengeance on thee.

Now, for my own, and Lady Randolph's wrongs!

[Enter Lord Randolph.]

[They fight:]:

Lord Randolph. Hold!—I command you both;

The man that stirs, makes me his foe.

Nor. Another voice than thine,

That threat had vainly sounded, noble Randolph.

Glen. Hear him, my lord, he's wondrous condescending!

Mark the humility of shepherd Norval!

Nor. Now you may scoff in safety.—

Lord R. Speak not thus,

Taunting each other; but unfold to me

[Both sheath their swords.]

The cause of quarrel; then I'll judge betwixt you.

N

Nor. Nay, my good lord, though I revere you much, My cause I plead not, nor demand your judgment.

I blush to speak — I will not

cannot speak

The opprobrious words, that I from him have borne.
To the liege lord of dear native land,

my

I owe a subject's homage; but, even him,
And his high arbitration I'd reject!
Within my bosom reigns another lord,-
Honor

sole judge and umpire of itself.

If my free speech offend you, noble Randolph,
Revoke your favors, and let Norval go

Hence as he came,- alone but not dishonored.

Lord R. Thus far, I'll mediate with impartial voice:

The ancient foe of Caledonia's land,

Now waves his banners o'er her frighted fields.
Suspend your purpose, till your country's arms

Repel the bold invader; then decide

The private quarrel.

Glen. I agree to this.

Nor. And I do.

Glen. Norval,

[Exit Randolph.]

Let not our variance mar the social hour,

Nor wrong the hospitality of Randolph;
Nor frowning anger, nor yet wrinkled hate,
Shall stain thy countenance. Smooth thou thy brow,
Nor, let our strife disturb the gentle dame.

Nor. Think not so lightly, sir, of my resentment; When we contend again, our strife is mortal.

*

LESSON XIX.

BLENNERHASSETT.- WIRT.

1. Who is Blennerhassett? A native of Ireland, a man of letters, who fled from the storms of his own country to find quiet in ours. Possessing himself of a beautiful island in the Ohio, he rears upon it a palace, and decorates it with every romantic embellishment of fancy. A shrubbery, that Shenstone a might have envied, blooms around him; music, which might have charmed Calypso and her nymphs, is his; an extensive library spreads its treasures before him; a philosophical apparatus offers to him all the secrets and mysteries of nature; peace, tranquillity, and innocence, shed their mingled delights around him; and to crown the enchantment of the scene, a wife, who is said to be lovely even beyond her sex, and graced with every accomplishment that can render it irresistible, had blessed him with her love, and made him the father of her children.

2. The evidence would convince you, sir, that this is only a faint picture of the real life. In the midst of all this peace, this innocence, and this tranquillity, this feast of the mind, this pure banquet of the heart-the destroyer comes; he comes to turn this paradise into a hell. A stranger presents himself. It is Aaron Burr!b Introduced to their civilities by the high rank which he had lately held in his country, he soon finds his way to their hearts by the dignity and elegance of his demeanor, the light and beauty of his conversation, and the seductive and fascinating power of his address. The conquest was not a difficult one. Innocence is ever simple and credulous; conscious of no designs of itself, it suspects none in

Shenstone, (William,) born in 1714. He occupied his life in rural embellishments, and the cultivation of poetry. b Aaron Burr, was elected vice-president of the United States in 1800. In 1807 he was arrested, and tried for treason. He died in 1836, aged eighty.

others; it wears no guards before its breast; every door, and portal, and avenue of the heart, is thrown open, and all who choose it, enter. Such was the state of Eden, when the serpent entered its bowers. The prisoner in a more engaging form, winding himself into the open and unpracticed heart of the unfortunate Blennerhassett, found but little difficulty in changing the native character of that heart, and the objects of its affection. By degrees he infuses into it the poison of his own ambition; he breathes into it the fire of his own courage; a daring and desperate thirst for glory; an ardor panting for all the storms, and bustle, and hurricane of life.

3. In a short time the whole man is changed, and every object of his former delight relinquished. Greater objects have taken possession of his soul; his imagination has been dazzled by visions of diadems, and stars, and garters, and titles of nobility; he has been taught to burn with restless emulation at the names of Cromwell, a Cæsar, and Bonaparte. His enchanted island is destined soon to relapse into a desert; and in a few months we find the tender and beautiful partner of his bosom, whom he lately "permitted not the winds of summer to visit too roughly,--" we find her shivering, at midnight, on the winter banks of the Ohio, and mingling her tears with the torrents that froze as they fell.

4. Yet this unfortunate man, thus deluded from his interest and his happiness; thus seduced from the paths of innocence and peace; thus confounded in the toils which were deliberately spread for him, and overwhelmed by the mastering spirit and genius of another; this man, thus ruined and undone, and made to play a subordinate part in this grand drama of guilt and treason, this man is to be called the

* Cromwell, (Oliver,) called the protector of the commonwealth of England. He died in 1658.

principal offender; while he, by whom he was thus plunged and steeped in misery, is comparatively innocent—a mere accessory. Sir, neither the human heart, nor the human understanding, will bear a perversion so monstrous and absurd; so shocking to the soul; so revolting to reason.

LESSON XX.

CURRAN IN DEFENSE OF ORR.

1. I tell you, therefore, gentlemen of the jury, it is not with respect to Mr. Orr, that your verdict is sought: you are called upon, on your oaths, to say that the government is wise and merciful; that the people are prosperous and happy; that military law ought to be continued; that the British constitution could not, with safety, be restored to the country; and that the statements of a contrary import, by your advocates in either country, were libelous and false.

2. I tell you, these are the questions; and I ask you, can you have the front to give the expected answer, in the face of a community who know the country as weil as you do? Let me ask you, how you could reconcile with such a verdict, the jails, the tenders, the gibbets, the conflagrations, the murders, and the proclamations, that we hear of every day in the streets, and see every day in the country? What are the processions of the learned counsel himself, circuit after circuit? Merciful God! what is the state of Ireland, and where shall you find the wretched inhabitant of this land?

3. You may find him, perhaps, in jail, the only place of security-I had almost caid, of ordinary habitation; you may see him flying, by the conflagration of his own dwelling;

* Curran, (John Philpot,) was an eminent Irish lawyer and orator. He was born in the county of Cork, in 1750, and died in 1817, aged sixty-seven