When on His mission from his home in heaven,
In the frail bark the Saviour deign'd to sleep;
The tempest rose with headlong fury driven,

The wave-toss'd vessel whirl'd along the deep: Wild shriek'd the storm amid the parting shrouds, And the vex'd billows dash'd the darkening clouds.

Ah! then, how futile human skill and power,
"Save us! we perish in the o'erwhelming wave,"
They cried, and found, in that tremendous hour,
"An eye to pity, and an arm to save."
He spoke, and lo! obedient to his will,
The raging waters and the winds were still.

And thou, poor trembler on life's stormy sea!
Where dark the waves of sin and sorrow roll,
To Him for refuge from the tempest flee,-

To Him, confiding, trust the sinking soul;
For oh! He came to calm the tempest-toss'd,
To seek the wandering and to save the lost.
For thee, and such as thee, impell'd by love,
He left the mansions of the blest on high;
Mid sin, and pain, and grief, and fear, to move,-
With lingering anguish and with shame to die.
The debt to Justice boundless Mercy paid,
For hopeless guilt complete atonement made.

Oh! in return for such surpassing grace,

Poor. blind, and naked, what canst thou impart ? Canst thou no offering on His altar place?

Yes, lowly mourner! give him all thy heart:
That simple offering he will not disown,-
That living incense may approach his throne.

He asks not herds, and flocks, and seas of oil,-
No vain oblations please the all-knowing Mind;
But the poor, weary, sin-sick, spent with toil,
Who humbly seek it, shall deliverance find:
Like her, the sufferer, who in secret stole
To touch His garment, and at once was whole.

Oh, for a voice of thunder! which might wake
The slumbering sinner, ere he sink in death;
Oh, for a tempest, into dust to shake

His sand-built dwelling, while he yet has breath!
A viewless hand, to picture on the wall
His fearful sentence, ere the curtain fall.

Child of the dust! from torpid ruin rise,—
Be earth's delusions from thy bosom hurl'd;
And strive to measure with enlighten'd eyes
The dread importance of the eternal world.

Lines occasioned by reading Matt. viii. 24-26.

The shades of night are gathering round thee fast,—
Arise to labor ere thy day be past!

In darkness tottering on the slippery verge
Of frail existence, soon to be no more;
Death's rude, tempestuous, ever-nearing surge
Shall quickly dash thee from the sinking shore.
But ah! the secrets of the following day
What tongue may utter, or what eye survey!

Oh! think in time, then, what the meek inherit,—
What the peace-maker's, what the mourner's part;
The allotted portion of the poor in spirit,-
The promised vision of the pure in heart.
For yet in Gilead there is balm to spare,
And, prompt to succor, a Physician there.

A MORNING HYMN.

Arise, my soul! with rapture rise,
And, fill'd with love and fear, adore
The awful Sov'reign of the skies,

Whose mercy lends me one day more.

And may this day, indulgent Power!
Not idly pass, nor fruitless be;
But may each swiftly flying hour
Advance my soul more nigh to Thee.

But can it be that Power divine,

Whose throne is light's unbounded blaze,
While countless worlds and angels join
To swell the glorious song of praise,

Will deign to lend a favoring ear

When I, poor abject mortal, pray?
Yes, boundless Goodness! he will hear,
Nor cast the meanest wretch away.

Then let me serve thee all my days,

And may my zeal with years increase;
For pleasant, Lord! are all thy ways,
And all thy paths are paths of peace.

FOR AN ALBUM.

To scenes sequester'd from the world's applause,
In vain the lily of the vale withdraws;
In vain to veil, with graceful bend, she tries,
Her snowy bosom from th' enraptured gaze;

In vain she bids protecting foliage rise,-
Surrounding sweetness her retreat betrays.

So, though o'ershadow'd by misfortune's gloom,
Through time, obscurely may the good man move,—

His blameless life ascends a sweet perfume,

And angels view him with the smiles of love.

JOSIAH QUINCY.

THIS distinguished statesman and scholar was born in Boston, on the 4th of February, 1772. After the usual preparatory studies at Phillips Andover Academy, he entered Harvard College, graduated in 1790, and then entered on the practice of law in his native city. In 1797, he married Eliza Susan, daughter of John Morton, a merchant of New York. In 1804, he was elected representative from Boston to the Congress of the United States, and held that station eight successive years, until he declined a re-election in 1813, when he was chosen senator from Suffolk County to the State Senate, which position he held till 1820. The same year he was elected a member of the House of Representatives of Massachusetts, and was made speaker at the opening of the session. In 1821, he was appointed Judge of the Municipal Court, but resigned the office on his election as Mayor of Boston in 1823. He held the office of Mayor six successive years, until he declined a re-election in December, 1828. In January, 1829, he was called, to use his own words, "from the dust and clamor of the Capitol to the Presidency of Harvard University," and retained this office until his resignation in 1845. Since that time he has held no public office, but is always ready to lend the influence of his great name to aid every cause which he deems connected with the public good or national honor.

Such is an outline of the public life of this great and good man, and true patriot. He has held no office which he did not fill with singular fidelity, wisdom, and zeal. With an ardor of temperament and energy of soul seldom equalled, he has ever enlisted these high characteristics in the cause of truth, justice, liberty, humanity; always pursuing the right rather than the seemingly expedient, convinced that in the long run the right is the expedient. His rare moral courage has more than once been put to the test, when he has stood alone, braving any amount of obloquy for pursuing what he deemed the truth, and what duty demanded of him. When he was in the House of Representatives of the United States, he took a position, sometimes literally alone, against the war of 1812, pronouncing it "an unjust, unnecessary, and iniquitous war;" and when in the Senate of his own State, in reference to a recent naval victory, he presented the following:-" Resolved, as the sense of the Senate of Massachusetts, that, in a war like the present, waged without justifiable cause, and prosecuted in a manner which indicates that conquest and ambition are its real motives, it is not becoming a moral and religious people to express any approbation of military or naval exploits, which are not immediately connected with the defence of our sea-coast and soil."

As Mayor of Boston, Mr. Quincy showed uncommon energy, wisdom, and executive power. At the earliest dawn, he might often have been seen on horseback, traversing the various streets and wharves and alleys, personally to inspect their condition, and to see what improvements might be made. Some of his plans for advancing the best interests of the city seemed at the time, to many cautious men, altogether too extended and almost visionary; but time has proved that they were conceived with wisdom, as they were executed with energy; and the "House of

For myself, I have not the least doubt that the calm and impartial judgment of posterity will fully endorse this sentiment.

Industry," the "House of Reformation for Juvenile Offenders," as well as the noble granite structure that bears his name,-" Quincy Market,"--and numerous other improvements, remain monuments of his wise and vigorous administration.' As President of Harvard College, Mr. Quincy exhibited equal fitness for guiding affairs in academic shades. During his Presidency, debts were paid, endowments secured, buildings renovated, and the general efficiency of this ancient institution largely promoted. The Law School, under Judge Story, was enlarged, Dane and Gore Halls were erected, and an Astronomical Observatory established.

Mr. Quincy is now enjoying a vigorous old age, at his ancestral estate in Quincy; and, though not taking an active part in public affairs, yet feels a warm interest in them. And, when recently called on by his fellow-citizens, he lifted up his eloquent and courageous voice against the further encroachments of slavery, and urged the free States to exert their proportionate influence in the affairs of the Government.

The literary productions of Mr. Quincy, besides his Speeches in Congress, and Orations on Various Occasions, which have been published, are Memoir of Josiah Quincy, Jr., of Massachusetts, (his father;) Centennial Address on the Two Hundredth Anniversary of the Settlement of Boston; A History of Harvard University, 2 vols. 8vo; Memoir of James Grahame, Historian of U.S.; Memoir of Major Samuel Shaw; History of the Boston Athensum; and A Municipal History of the Town and City of Boston from 1630 to 1830, 1 vol. 8vo, 1852.2 His last work is a Memoir of the Life of John Quincy Adams; Boston, Phillips, Sampson & Co., 1858.3

THE LIMITS TO LAWS.'

Mr. Chairman:-In relation to the subject now before us, other gentlemen must take their responsibilities: I shall take mine. This embargo must be repealed. You cannot enforce it for any important period of time longer. When I speak of your inability to enforce this law, let not gentlemen misunderstand me. I mean not to intimate insurrections or open defiances of them; although it is impossible to foresee in what acts that "oppression" will finally terminate, which, we are told, "makes wise men mad.” I speak of an inability resulting from very different causes. The

1 His son Josiah was subsequently Mayor of Boston, inheriting all the noble and generous characteristics of his father.

2 In the Presidential campaign of 1856 he took the deepest interest, and published an " Address illustrative of the Nature and Power of the Slave States, and the Duties of the Free States; delivered at the Request of the Inhabitants of the Town of Quincy, Mass."

3 It is enough to say in its praise that it is in all respects worthy of its venerable and accomplished author. That it should be distinguished for research, as well as a careful collation and happy arrangement of facts, is what we might suppose from one whose scholarly taste has generally inclined him to historical subjects; but that it should be written in a style of such unflagging vigor to the very close, is what could hardly have been expected from an author of an age so far beyond the period usually allotted to the life of man.

Extract from the Speech of Josiah Quincy, delivered in the House of Repre sentatives of the United States, November 28, 1808.

gentleman from North Carolina exclaimed the other day, in a strain of patriotic ardor, "What! Shall not our laws be executed? Shall their authority be defied? I am for enforcing them, at every hazard." I honor that gentleman's zeal; and I mean no deviation from that true respect I entertain for him, when I tell him that, in this instance, "his zeal is not according to knowledge."

I ask this House, is there no control to its authority? is there no limit to the power of this national legislature? I hope I shall offend no man when I intimate that two limits exist,-nature and the constitution. Should this House undertake to declare that this atmosphere should no longer surround us, that water should cease to flow, that gravity should not hereafter operate, that the needle should not vibrate to the pole, sir, I hope I shall not offend,—I think I may venture to affirm that, such a law to the contrary notwithstanding, the air would continue to circulate, the Mississippi, the Hudson, and the Potomac would roll their floods to the ocean, heavy bodies continue to descend, and the mysterious magnet hold on its course to its celestial cynosure.

Just as utterly absurd and contrary to nature is it to attempt to prohibit the people of New England, for any considerable length of time, from the ocean. Commerce is not only associated with all the feelings, the habits, the interests, and relations of that people, but the nature of our soil and of our coasts, the state of our population and its mode of distribution over our territory, render it indispensable. We have five hundred miles of sea-coast, all furnished with harbors, bays, creeks, rivers, inlets, basins, with every variety of invitation to the sea, with every species of facility to violate such laws as these. Our people are not scattered over an immense surface, at a solemn distance from each other, in lordly retirement, in the midst of extended plantations and intervening wastes: they are collected on the margin of the ocean, by the sides of rivers, at the heads of bays, looking into the water, or on the surface of it, for the incitement and the reward of their industry. Among a people thus situated, thus educated, thus numerous, laws, prohibiting them from the exercise of their natural rights, will have a binding effect not one moment longer than the public sentiment supports them. Gentlemen talk of twelve revenue cutters additional, to enforce the embargo laws. Multiply the number by twelve, multiply it by an hundred, join all your ships of war, all your gun-boats, and all your militia, in despite of them all, such laws as these are of no avail when they become odious to public sentiment.