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8 Good God! that in such a proud moment of life,
Worth ages of history — when, had you but hurled One bolt at your tyrant invader, that strife
Between freemen and tyrants, had spread through the world.
9 That then-0, disgrace upon manhood! e'en then
You should falter -- should cling to your pitiful breath; Cower down into beasts, when you might have stood men,
And prefer a slave's life, to a glorious death!
10 It is strange!- it is dreadful! Shout, Tyranny, shout
Through your dungeons and palaces, “Freedom is o'er » If there lingers one spark of her fire, tread it out,
And return to your empire of darkness once more.
11 For if such are the braggarts that claim to be free,
Come, Despot of Russia, thy feet let me kiss :Far nobler to live the brute bondman of thee,
Than sully even chains by a struggle like this !
CV. - JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
SEWARD. (WILLIAM HENRY SEWARD was born in Florida, New York, May 16, 1801, He was graduated at Union College in 1819, and admitted to the bar in 1822. Without neglecting his professional duties, he early engaged in politics, and in 1838 was chosen governor of New York by the Whigs, and was re-elected in 1846. In February, 1849, he was chosen to the senate of the United States, and continued a member of that body till the election of President Lincoln, when he became a member of his cabinet as secretary of state. During his career in the senate, he was remarkable for the ability and consistency with which he maintained the policy and principles of the anti-slavery party, but he by no means confined his attention to this subject, but spoke upon a variety of questions connected with the commercial and industrial relations of the country. He is a man of patient and persevering industry, and his speeches, which are always carefully prepared, are honorably distinguished for their decorum of tone and their great literary merit. His writings have been published in four octavo volumes, with a biographical memoir and historical notes.
The following extract is from a eulogy on John Quincy Adams, delivered before the legislature of New York, April 6, 1848.]
The model by which he formed his character was Cicero. Not the living Cicero, sometimes inconsistent, often irreso
lute, too often seeming to act a studied part, and always covetous of applause. But Cicero, as he aimed to be, and as he appears revealed in those immortal emanations of
his genius which have been the delight and guide of in5 tellect and virtue, in every succeeding age. Like the
Roman, Adams was an orator, but he did not fall into the error of the Roman, in practically valuing eloquence more than the beneficence to which it should be devoted. Like
him he was a statesman and magistrate worthy to be 10 called The second founder of the republic,” — like him
a teacher of didactic philosophy, of morals, and even of his own peculiar art; and like him he made all liberal learning tributary to that noble art, while poetry was the
inseparable companion of his genius in its hours of relax15 ation from the labors of the forum and of the capitol.
Like him, he loved only the society of good men, and by his generous praise of such, illustrated the Roman's beautiful aphorism, that no one can be envious of good
deeds, who has confidence in his own virtue. Like Cicero, 20 he kept himself unstained by social or domestic vices;
preserved serenity and cheerfulness; cherished habitual reverence for the Deity, and dwelt continually, not on the mystic theology of the schools, but on the hopes of a better
life. He lived in what will be regarded as the virtuous 25 age of his country, while Cicero was surrounded by an
overwhelming degeneracy. He had the light of Christianity for his guide, and its sublime motives as incitements to virtue; while Cicero had only the confused
instructions of the Grecian schools, and saw nothing cer30 tainly attainable but present applause and future fame.
In moral courage, therefore, he excelled his model, and rivalled Cato. But Cato was a visionary, who insisted upon his right to act always without reference to the condition
of mankind, as he would have acted in Plato's imaginary 35 republic. Adams stood, in this respect, midway between
the impracticable stoic and the too flexible academician. He had no occasion to say, as the Grecian orator did, that, if he had sometimes acted contrary to himself, he had never acted contrary to the republic; but he might justly have
said, as the noble Roman did, “ I have rendered to my 5 country all the great services which she was willing to re
ceive at my hands, and I have never harbored a thought concerning her that was not divine.”
More fortunate than Cicero, who fell a victim of civil wars which he could not avert, Adams was permitted to 16 linger on the earth, until the generations of that future
age, for whom he had lived and to whom he had appealed from the condemnation of contemporaries, came up before the curtain which had shut out his sight, and pronounced
over him, as he was sinking into the grave, their judgment 15 of approval and benediction.
The distinguished characteristics of his life were beneficent labor and personal contentment. He never sought wealth, but devoted himself to the service of mankind ;
yet by the practice of frugality and method, he secured 20 the enjoyment of dealing forth continually no stinted
charities, and died in affluence. He never solicited place or preferment, and had no partisan combinations or even connections; yet he received honors which eluded the
covetous grasp of those who formed parties, rewarded 25 friends, and proscribed enemies; and he filled a longer
period of varied and distinguished service than ever fell to the lot of any other citizen. In every state of this progress he was content. He was content to be president, minister,
representative, or citizen. 30 Stricken in the midst of this service, in the very act of
rising to debate, he fell into the arms of conscript fathers of the republic. A long lethargy supervened, and oppressed his senses. Nature rallied the wasting powers,
on the verge of the grave, for a very brief period. But it 35 was long enough for him. The rekindled eye showed that
the re-collected mind was clear, calm, and vigorous.
His weeping family and his sorrowing compeers were there. He surveyed the scene, and knew at once its fatal import. He had left no duty unperformed ; he had no
wish unsatisfied ; no ambition unattained ; no regret, no 5 sorrow, no fear, no remorse. He could not shake off the
dews of death that gathered on his brow. He could not pierce the thick shades that rose up before him. But he knew that eternity lay close by the shores of time. He
knew that his Redeemer lived. 10 Eloquence, even in that hour, inspired him with his
ancient sublimity of utterance. “This,” said the dying man, “this is the last of earth.” He paused for a moment, and then added, “ I am content.” Angels might well have
drawn aside the curtains of the skies to look down on such 15 a scene — a scene that approximated even to that scene of
unapproachable sublimity, not to be recalled without reverence, when, in mortal agony, One who spake as never man spake, said, “ It is finished.”
CVI. – TRIAL OF WARREN HASTINGS.
MACAULAY. [This description of the trial of Warren Hastings is from the review of « Gleig's Life of Hastings” in the “ Edinburgh Review." Hastings was governor-general of India from 1774 to 1785; and on his return to England was impeached by the House of Commons, and tried by the House of Lords, for numerous acts of injustice and oppression. The trial began in 1788, and dragged on its slow length till 1795, when he was finally acquitted. The judg. ments of men entitled to respect are still divided as to the amount of blame to be attached to Hastings. He was a man of great abilities, but there can be no doubt that he was often unscrupulous in his conduct, and cruel in his government, He constantly acted upon the dangerous doctrine, that a good end justifies the use of any means to attain it. He was nearly ruined by the expenses of his trial, which are said to have amounted to nearly four hundred thousand dollars.]
The place was worthy of such a trial. It was the great hall of William Rufus ; o the hall which had resounded
* Westminster Hall was built by William Rufus, for a banqueting hall.
with acclamations at the inauguration of thirty kings ; the hall which had witnessed the just sentence of Bacon and the just absolution of Somers; the hall where the elo
quence of Strafford had for a moment awed and melted a 5 victorious party inflamed with just resentment; the hall
where Charles had confronted the High Court of Justice with the placid courage that has half redeemed his fame.
Neither military nor civil pomp was wanting. The avenues were lined with grenadiers. The streets were kept 10 clear by cavalry. The peers, robed in gold and ermine,
were marshalled by heralds under Garter King-at-arms. The judges, in their vestments of state, attended to give advice on points of law. Near a hundred and seventy
lords, three fourths of the upper house, as the upper house 15 then was, walked in solemn order from their usual place
of assembling to the tribunal. The junior baron present led the way, — George Eliott, Lord Heathfield, recently ennobled for his memorable defence of Gibraltar against
the fleets and armies of France and Spain. The long pro20 cession was closed by the Duke of Norfolk, earl marshal
of the realm, by the great dignitaries, and by the brothers and ‘sons of the king. Last of all came the Prince of Wales, conspicuous by his fine person and noble bearing.
The gray old walls were hung with scarlet. The long 25 galleries were crowded by an audience such as has rarely
excited the fears or the emulation of an orator. There were gathered together from all parts of a great, free, enlightened, and prosperous realm, grace, and female
loveliness, wit and learning, the representatives of every 30 science and of every art.
There were seated round the queen the fair-haired young daughters of the house of Brunswick. There the ambassadors of great kings and commonwealths gazed with admi
ration on a spectacle which no other country in the world 35 could present. There Siddons, in the prime of her majes,
tic beauty, looked with emotion on a scene surpassing all