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elected to be saved from the shipwreck, but ELOQUENCE-Power of
The following is extracted from a late speech before the governor of the Assembly of Pennsylvania, by the chief of the Menomonis. It has all the figurative energy of Indian eloquence :-" Brother, we see your councilhouse, it is large and beautiful; but the council-house of the red man is much larger: the earth is the floor, the clear sky is the roof, a blazing fire is the chair of the chief orator, and the green grass the seats of our chiefs: you speak by papers, and record your words in books; but we speak from our hearts, and memory records our words in the hearts of our people.'
In whom does it not enkindle passion? Its matchless excellence is applicable everywhere, in all classes of life. The rich and the poor experience the effects of its magic influence. It excites the soldier to the charge and animates him to the conflict. The miser it teaches to weep over his error, and to despise the degrading betrayer of his peace. It convicts the infidel of his depravity, dispels the cloud that obscures his mind, and leaves it pure and elevated. The guilty are living monuments of its exertion, and the innocent hail it as the vindicator of its violated rights and the preserver of its sacred reputation. How often in the courts of justice does the criminal behold his arms unshackled, his character freed from suspicion, and his future left open before him with all its hopes of honours, station and dignity! And how often, in the halls of legislation, does Eloquence unmask corruption, expose intrigue, and overthrow tyranny! In the cause of mercy it is omnipotent. It is bold in the consciousness of its superiority-fearless and unyielding in the purity of its motives. All opposition it Melvill destroys: all power it defies.
These blissful plains no blight nor mildews fear;
Agreeable emotions and sensations may be divided into three orders;-those of pleasure, which refer to the senses; those of harmony, which refer to the mind; and those of happiness, which are the natural result of a union between harmony and pleasure; the former being exercised in virtue, the latter in temperance. Harmony is principally enjoyed by those men who possess, what has analogically been termed, taste; which Mr. Melmoth defines, "that universal sense of beauty, which every man in some degree possesses, rendered more exquisite by genius, and more correct by cultivation." "It is very remarkable," says Dr. Akenside, "that the disposition of the moral powers is always similar to that of the imagination;-that those who are most inclined to admire prodigious and sublime objects in the physical world, are also most inclined to applaud examples of fortitude and heroic virtue in the moral;-while those who are charmed rather with the delicacy and sweetness of colours, forins, and sounds, never fail in like manner to yield the preference to the softer scenes of virtue, and the sympathies of a domestic life." Exciting a love of true glory, and an admiration of every nobler virtue. Taste exalts the affections, and purifies our passions;-clothes a private life in white, and a public one in purple. Adding a new feature, as it were, to the pomp, the bloom, and the exuberance of Nature, it enables the mind to Mumine what is dark, and to colour what is faded; giving a lighter yellow to the topaz, a more celestial blue to the sapphire, and a deeper crimson to the ruby; it imparts a higher brilliance to the diamond, and a more transparent purple to the amethyst.
Bearing a price which only the heart and the imagination can estimate, and being the mother of a thousand chaste desires and a thousand secret hopes:-Taste strews flowers in the paths of literature and science, and, breathing inexpressive sounds, and picturing celestial forms, qualifies the hour of sorrow, by inducing that secret sense of cheerfulness, which, in its operation,
Refines the soft, and swells the strong;
Extended empire, like expanded gold, Exchanges solid strength for feeble splendour. Johnson.
Be always employed about some rational thing, that the devil find thee not idle.
EMPLOYMENT and Repose.
Of night, and all things now retired to rest
Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums, That lie bestrown, unsightly and unsmooth, Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease; Meanwhile, as Nature wills, night bids us rest.
We have employments assigned to us for every circumstance in life. When we are alone, we have our thoughts to watch; in the family, our tempers; and in company, our tongues. Hannah More.
There is a long and wearisome step between admiration and imitation. Richter.
Worldly ambition is founded on pride or envy, but emulation (or laudable ambition) is
actually founded in humility; for it evidently implies that we have a low opinion of our present attainments, and think it necessary to be advanced; and, especially in religious concerns, it is so far from being pride for a man to wish himself spiritually better, that it is highly commendable, and what we are strongly exhorted to in many parts of the Bible. Bishop Hall.
is called in to their aid. They cauterize their wounds, they close their chinks, they bandage the lame branches. The country where coals are burned is a lucky one for trees. In every country artists make more of nature than we can believe. They cannot withdraw themselves from that which surrounds them. When we come to live in a country, we begin to perceive that the local artists have properly ENCAMPMENT-of an Army. represented it. That which at a distance F From camp to camp, through the foul womb of lous errors and false interpretations, we ourseemed full of singularity, a mixture of ridicu
The hum of either army stilly sounds
selves become eye-witnesses of. In England,
Piercing the night's dull ear. Hark, from the growing in perfect liberty, and then at its
setting, burning between masses of cloud, always interposed between the blue ether and the English sun, we learn to comprehend the brusque contrasts and almost crude oppositions common to English landscape-painters. In the same way, when we have attended English | meetings and fêtes, among ornaments, colours, and costumes the most discordant, we cease to be astonished at the taste and style of Burger.
The armourers, accomplishing the knights,
Prolong'd endurance tames the bold. Byron. English painters in general.
"No one's enemy but his own," happens generally to be the enemy of everybody with whom he is in relation. The leading quality that goes to make this character is a reckless imprudence and a selfish pursuit of selfish enjoyments, independent of all consequences. "No one's enemy but his own," runs rapidly through his means; calls in a friendly way on his friends, for bonds, bail, and securities; involves his nearest kin, leaves his wife a beggar, and quarters his orphans upon the public; and after enjoying himself to his last guinea, entails a life of dependence upon his progeny, and dies in the ill-understood reputation of harmless folly, which is more injurious to society than some positive crimes.
Mrs. Jameson. ENGLAND-Natural Beauty of.
England is, picturesquely speaking, a superb country. There are trees in England a thousand years old, many five hundred years old; and there are whole forests of the age of Henry VIII. whose trees are never touched but to prolong the life of the old giants who have survived so many generations. As the English do not cut down trees for fuel, they are cherished and fostered. The art of surgery
Oh, England! decent abode of comfort, and cleanliness, and decorum! Oh, blessed asylum of all that is worth having upon earth! Oh, sanctuary of religion and of liberty for the whole civilised world! It is only in viewing the state of other countries, that thy advantages can be duly estimated! May thy sons, who have "fought the good fight," but know and guard what they possess in thee! Oh, land of happy firesides, and cleanly hearths, and domestic peace; of filial piety, and parental love, and connubial joy; the cradle of heroes, the school of sages, the temple of law, the altar of faith, the asylum of innocence," the bulwark of private security and of public honour!
"Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart, untravell 'd, fondly turns to thee!" Clarke.
And coops from other lands her islanders,
Scatter'd at will beneath the crag's rude face, While springs rush round, and near the ocean foams : What finds he like to these afar who roams? Tall trees o'ershade them, creepers fondly grace
Lattice and porch, and sweetest flowers embrace
Each rock and pathway; out on stately domes!
The offspring of these roofs deserve a land Thus rich and fair, men may be proud indeed,
'Mid all their history's long and glorious band, To own the blood of England's peasant seed. Lowly, yet strong, these brown-thatch'd cabins stand,
And such the spirits of the sons they breed.
England never did (nor never shall)
If England to itself do rest but true.
O England, model to thy inward greatness,
What mightst thou do, that honour would ENGLAND-A Text for.
Were all thy children kind and natural!
They passed, then, from the high road into a long succession of green pastures, through which a straight public path conducted them into one of those charming lanes never seen out of this bowery England,- -a lane deep sunk amidst high banks, with overhanging oaks, and quivering ash, gnarled with elm, vivid holly, and shaggy brambles, with wild convolvulus and creeping woodbine forcing sweet life through all. Sometimes the banks opened abruptly, leaving patches of greensward, and peeps through still sequestered gates, or over moss-grown pales, into the park or paddock of some rural thane; new villas or old manor-houses on lawny uplands, knitting, as it were, together England's feudal memories with England's freeborn hopes-the old land with its young people; for England is so old, and the English are so young!
There is not a chapter in all the book we profess to believe, more specially and directly written for England than the second of Habakkuk, and I never in all my life heard one of its practical texts preached from. I suppose the clergymen are all afraid, and know that their flocks, while they will sit quite politely to hear syllogisms out of the Epistle to the Romans, would get restive directly if they ever pressed a practical text home to them. But we should have no mercantile catastrophes, and no distressful pauperism, if we only read often, and took to heart, those plain words:-" Yea, also, because he is a proud man, neither keepeth at home, who enlargeth his desire as hell, and cannot be satisfied,-shall not all these take up a parable against him, and a taunting proverb against
him, and say, Woe to him that increaseth that which is not his, and to him that ladeth himself with thick clay; woe to him that coveteth an evil covetousness that he may set his nest on high; woe to him that buildeth a town with blood." Ruskin.
Oftentimes, in contemplating the history of this empire; the greatness of its power; the peculiarity of its condition; its vast extent, one arm resting on the East, the other on the West; its fleets riding proudly on every sea; its name and majesty on every shore; the individual energy of its people; their noble institutions, and, above all, their reformed faith-we are tempted to think that Heaven's high Providence has yet in store for us some high and arduous calling. The long-suffering of the Almighty invites us to repentance; evils that have engulfed whole nations, suspended over us for a while, and then averted, exhibit the mercy-and the probable termination of it :
"Death his dart
Shook, but delayed to strike-"
Open, therefore, your treasury, erect churches, send forth the ministers of religion; reverse the conduct of the enemy of mankind, and sow wheat among the tares-all hopes are groundless, all legislation weak, without this alpha and omega; it will give content instead of bitterness, raise purity from corruption, and "life from the dead"-but there is no time to be lost.
Let us catch at this proffered opportunity, which may never return: betake ourselves with eagerness to do the first works; and, while we have yet strength, and dominion, and wealth, and power, "break off our sins by righteousness, and our iniquities by shewing mercy to the poor, if it may be a lengthening of our tranquillity. Chalmers.
boats; and when you get home for a quiet
ENGLISH-Individuality of the.
The English are to be distinguished from the Americans by greater independence of personal habits. Not only the institutions, but the
ENGLAND should be Studied by the physical condition of our own country, has a Young.
tendency to reduce us all to the same level of usages. The steamboats, the overgrown taverns, the speculative character of the enterprises, and the consequent disposition to do all things in common, aid the tendency of the system in bringing about such a result. In England a man dines by himself, in a room filled with other hermits; he eats at his leisure; drinks his wine in silence; reads the paper by the hour; and in all things encourages his individuality, and insists on his particular humours. The American is compelled to submit to a common rule; he eats when others eat; sleeps when others sleep; and he is lucky indeed if
Oh, Young England, Young England! You who are born into these racing railroad times, when there's a great exhibition or some monster sight every year, and you can get over a couple of thousand miles for three pound ten in a five weeks' holiday, why don't you know more of your own birthplaces? You are all in the ends of the earth, it seems to me, as soon as you get your necks out of the education collar; going round Ireland with a return ticket in a fortnight; dropping your copies of Tennyson on the tops of Swiss mountains, or pulling down the Danube in Oxford racing- |