lawyer, and so did O'Connell. Seward made a sensation in the American senate; O'Connell did the same in the house of commons. Seward identifies himself with the party of freedom. O'Connell hated slavery, and "oppression made that wise man mad." Seward is charged with demagogism. O'Con nell made himself all things to all men, that he might gain

some.

3. Seward has won the sympathies of the masses, and is the pet of the liberty-loving people of the north. O'Connell was the idol of Ireland, and his memory will ever live in the hearts of his countrymen. Seward is dreaded as much by the old hunkers of this country, as O'Connell was feared by the tyrant tories of Great Britain. Seward split the whig party; so did O'Connell. Seward is a practical temperance man; O'Connell was a pledged tee-totaler. Seward would like to be president of the United States; O'Connell desired to be king of Ireland.

He is not so

4. Seward is a great man among great men. volcanic as Benton-not so logical as Webster-not so eloquent as Clay-not so brittle as Foote-not so jovial as Hale; but he can write a better letter than any of them. A little from his pen will go a great distance, and keep a long time. His classic style, his earnest air, his truthful manner, his uncommon sense, his perfect self-control, his thorough knowledge of the leading questions of the day, compel the attention and admiration of the hearer. He is never timid, never tame,. never squeamish, never vulgar, never insulting. He is independent without egotism, modest without subserviency, dignified without pomposity, and sociable without affectation.

LESSON XCIII.

A SACRED MEMORY.

WM. LEGGETT.

1. IF yon bright stars which gem the night,
Be each a blissful dwelling sphere,
Where kindred spirits reünite,

Whom death has torn asunder here,
How sweet it were at once to die,
And leave this blighted orb afar—
Mix soul with soul, to cleave the sky,
And soar away from star to star.

2. But oh, how dark, how drear, how lone,
Would seem the brightest world of bliss,
If, wandering through each radiant one,
We failed to find the loved of this!

If there no more the ties should twine,

Which death's cold hand alone can sever,

Ah! then these stars in mockery shine,

More hateful as they shine forever.

3. It cannot be !—each hope and fear

That blights the eye or clouds the brow, Proclaims there is a happier sphere,

Than this bleak world that holds us now! There is a voice which sorrow hears,

When heaviest weighs life's galling chain; 'Tis Heaven that whispers, "dry thy tears, in heart shall meet again."

The

pure

LESSON XCIV.

EULOGY ON WEBSTER.

RUFUS CHOATE.

1. But it is time that the eulogy was spoken. My heart goes back into the coffin there with him, and I would pause. I went, it is a day or two since, alone, to see again the home which he so dearly loved, the chamber where he died, the grave in which they laid him, all habited as when

"His look drew audience still as night,

Or summer's noontide air,"

till the heavens be no more.

2. Throughout that spacious and calm scene, all things to the eye showed at first unchanged. The books in the library, the portraits, the table at which he wrote, the scientific culture of the land, the course of agricultural occupation, the coming in of harvests, fruit of the seed his own hand had scattered, the animals and implements of husbandry, the trees planted by him in lines, in copses, in orchards, by thousands, the seat under the noble elm on which he used to sit to feel the southwest wind at evening, or hear the breathings of the sea, or the not less audible music of the starry heavens, all seemed at first unchanged.

3. The sun of a bright day, from which, however, something of the fervors of midsummer were wanting, fell temperately on them all, filled the air on all sides with the utterances of life, and gleamed on the long line of ocean. Some of those whom on earth he loved best, were still there. The great mind still seemed to preside; the great presence to be with you. You might expect to hear again the rich and playful tones of the voice of the old hospitality. Yet a moment more, and all the scene took on the aspect of one great monument, inscribed with his name, and sacred to his memory.

4. And such it shall be in all the future of America! The sensation of desolateness, and loneliness, and darkness with which you see it now, will pass away; the sharp grief of love and friendship will become soothed; men will repair thither, as they are wont to commemorate the great days of history; the same glance shall take in, and the same emotions shall greet and bless the harbor of the Pilgrims and the tomb of Webster.

LESSON XCV.

REMEMBER ME.

MOORE.

1. Go where glory waits thee,
But while fame elates thee,
Oh, still remember me.
When the praise thou meetest
To thine ear is sweetest,

Oh, then remember me.

2. Other arms may press thee,
Dearer friends caress thee,—
All the joys that bless thee
Sweeter far may be;

But when friends are nearest,
And when joys are dearest,

Oh, then remember me.
3. When at eve thou rovest,
By the star thou lovest,

Oh, then remember me;
Think, when home returning,
Bright we've seen it burning;
Oh, thus remember me.

4. Oft as summer closes,
When thine eye reposes
On its lingering roses,

Once so loved by thee,
Think of her who wove them,

Her who made thee love them;
Oh, then remember me.

5. When around thee, dying,
Autumn leaves are lying,

Oh, then remember me;
And, at night, when gazing
On the gay hearth blazing,
Oh, still remember me.

6. Then, should music, stealing
All the soul of feeling,
To thy heart appealing,

Draw one tear from thee;
Then let memory bring thee
Strains I used to sing thee-
Oh, then remember me.

LESSON XCVI.

CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS LIBERTY.

H. W. BEECHER.

1. Now, gentlemen, civil and religious liberty is a thing that governments may declare and recognize, but which governments never make, any more than governments make a man. God made a man, and he never made one without the hope of liberty in him; and if there be a man on this earth that has not got that, then he aint made!