sentatives, into the active, ruling power of the republic. Only time can disclose whether this great innovation shall be benefi cent, or even permanent.

5. Certainly, sir, the great lights of the senate have set. The obscuration is no less palpable to the country than to us, who are left to grope our uncertain way here, as in a labyrinth. oppressed with self-distrust. The time, too, presents new embarrassments. We are rising to another and more sublime stage of national progress-that of expanding wealth and rapid territorial aggrandizement.

6. Our institutions throw a broad shadow across the St. Lawrence, and, stretching beyond the valley of Mexico, reach even to the plains of Central America, while the Sandwich Islands and the shores of China recognize their renovating influence. Wherever that influence is felt, a desire for protection under those institutions is awakened. Expansion seems to be regulated not by any difficulties of resistance, but by the moderation which results from our own internal constitution. No one knows how rapidly that restraint may give way. Who can tell how far or how fast it ought to yield?

7. Commerce has brought the ancient continents near to us, and created necessities for new positions perhaps connections or colonies there and with the trade and friendship of the elder nations their conflicts and collisions are brought to our doors and to our hearts. Our sympathy kindles, or indifference extinguishes, the fires of freedom in foreign lands. Before we shall be fully conscious that a change is going on in Europe, we may find ourselves once more divided by that eternal line of separation that leaves on the one side those of our citizens who obey the impulses of sympathy, while on the other are found those who submit only to the counsels of prudence. Even prudence will soon be required to decide whether distant regions, east and west, shall come under our own protection, or be left to aggrandize a rapidly spreading domain of hostile despotism.

8. Sir, who among us is equal to these mighty questions? I fear there is no one. Nevertheless, the example of Henry Clay remains for our instruction. His genius has passed to the realms of light, but his virtues still live here for our emula tion. With them there will remain also the protection and favor of the Most High, if by the practice of justice and the maintenance of freedom we shall deserve them.

9. Let, then, the bier pass on. We will follow with sorrow, but not without hope, the reverend form that it bears to its final resting place; and then, when that grave opens at our feet to receive so estimable a treasure, we will invoke the God of our fathers to send us new guides, like him that is now withdrawn, and give us wisdom to obey their instructions.

1

LESSON XXXII.

KIENZI'S ADDRESS TO THE MEN OF ROME.

MISS MITFORD.

FRIENDS,

I come not here talk. Ye know too well
The story of our thralldom :- we are slaves!
The bright sun rises to his course, and lights
A race of slaves! He sets, and his last beam
Falls on a slave; not such as, swept along

By the full tide of

To crimson glory and undying fame;

But base, ignoble slaves- - slaves to a horde

Of petty tyrants, feudal despots, lords,

Rich in some dozen paltry villages

Strong in some hundred spearmen

only great

In that strange spell, a name. Each hour, dark fraud,

Or open rapine, or protected murder,

Cries out against them. But this very day,

An honest man, my neighbor there he stands

Was struck - struck like a dog, by one who wore

The badge of Ursini; because, forsooth,

He tossed not high his ready cap in air,
Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts,
At sight of that great ruffian. Be we men,
And suffer such dishonor? men, and wash not
The stain away in blood? Such shames are common.

2. I have known deeper wrongs.

I, that speak to you,

I had a brother once, a gracious boy,
Full of gentleness, of calmest hope,
Of sweet and quiet joy; there was the look
Of heaven upon his face, which limners give
To the beloved disciple. How I loved
That gracious boy! Younger by fifteen years,
Brother at once and son! He left my side,
A summer bloom on his fair cheeks, a smile
Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour,
The pretty, harmless boy was slain! I saw
The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried

For vengeance? Rouse, ye Romans! rouse, ye slaves!
Have ye brave sons? Look, in the next fierce brawl,
To see them die. Have ye daughters fair? Look
To see them live, torn from your arms, distained,
Dishonored; and, if ye dare call for justice,
Be answered by the lash. Yet this is Rome,
That sat on her seven hills, and, from her throne
Of beauty, ruled the world! Yet we are Romans!
Why, in that elder day to be a Roman

Was greater than a king! And once, again,—

Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread

Of either Brutus ! once again, I swear,

The eternal city shall be free!

LESSON XXXIII.

SOLILOQUY FROM MANFRED.

BYRON.

1. THE spirits I have raised abandon me—
The spells which I have studied baffle me-
The remedy I recked of tortured me;
I lean no more on superhuman aid,
It hath no power upon the past, and for

The future, till the past be gulfed in darkness,

It is not of my search. My mother earth!

And thou, fresh breaking day; and you, ye mountains,
Why are ye beautiful? I cannot love ye.

2. And thou, the bright eye of the universe,
That openest over all, and unto all

Art a delight-thou shinest not on my heart.
And you, ye crags, upon whose extreme edge

I stand, and on the torrent's brink beneath
Behold the tall pines dwindle as to shrubs
In dizziness of distance; when a leap,
A stir, a motion, even a breath would bring
My breast upon its rocky bosom's bed,
To rest forever-wherefore do I pause?

3. I feel the impulse-yet I do not plunge;
I see the peril—yet do not recede;

My brain reels-and yet my foot is firm:
There is a power upon me which withholds
And makes it my fatality to live;
If it be life to wear within myself
This barrenness of spirit, and to be
My own soul's sepulchre, for I have ceased
To justify my deeds unto myself —
The last infirmity of evil.

Thou winged and cloud-cleaving minister,

[An eagle passes.

Whose happy flight is highest into heaven,
Well mayest thou swoop so near me I should be
Thy prey, and gorge thine eaglets; thou art gone
Where the eye cannot follow thee; but thine
Yet pierces downward, onward, or above,
With a pervading vision.

Beautiful!

How beautiful is all this visible world!

How glorious in its action and itself!

But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we,
Half dust, half deity, alike unfit

To sink or soar, with our mixed essence make

A conflict of its elements, and breathe

The breath of degradation and of pride,
Contending with low wants and lofty will
Till our mortality predominates,

And men are—what they name not to themselves,
And trust not to each other.

Hark! the note,

[The shepherd's pipe in the distance is heard.

The natural music of the mountain reed

For here the patriarchal days are not

A pastoral fable-pipes in the liberal air,

Mixed with the sweet bells of the sauntering herd;
My soul would drink those echoes-Oh, tít 1 were
The viewless spirit of a lovely sound,

A living voice, a breathing harmony,
A bodiless enjoyment-born and dying
With the blest tone which made me!