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an open controversy with him, he will contend openly with And never, since the earth stood, has it been so fearful a thing for nations to fall into the hands of the living God. The day of vengeance is at hand; the day of judgment has come; the great earthquake which sinks Babylon is shaking the nations, and the waves of the mighty commotion are dashing upon every shore.

8. Is this, then, a time to remove the foundations, when the earth itself is shaken? Is this a time to forfeit the protection of God, when the hearts of men are failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are to come upon the earth? Is this a time to run upon his neck and the thick bosses of his buckler, when the nations are drink ag blood, and fainting, and passing away in his wrath?

9. Is this a time to throw away the shield of faith, when his arrows are drunk with the blood of the slain? to cut from the anchor of hope, when the clouds are collecting, and the sea and the waves are roaring, and thunders are uttering their voices, and lightnings blazing in the heavens, and the great hail is falling from heaven upon men, and every mountain, sea and island is fleeing in dismay from the face of an incensed God?

LESSON XV.

Character of Chief Justice Marshall.—WIRT.

1. THE Chief Justice of the United States is, in his person, tall, meagre, emaciated; his muscles relaxed, and his joints so loosely connected, as not only to disqualify him, apparently, for any vigorous exertions of body, but to destroy every thing like elegance and harmony in his air and movements.

2. Indeed, in his whole appearance and demeanor,dress, attitudes, and gesture-sitting, standing, or walking, -he is as far removed from the idolized graces of Lord Chesterfield, as any other gentleman on earth. To continue the portrait: his head and face are small in proportion to his height; his complexion swarthy; the muscles of

his face, being relaxed, give him the appearance of a man of fifty years of age, nor can he be much younger.

3. His countenance has a faithful expression of great good humor and hilarity; while his black eyes-that unerring index-possess an irradiating spirit, which proclaims the imperial powers of the mind that sits enthroned within. 4. This extraordinary man, without the aid of fancy, without the advantages of person, voice, attitude, gesture, or any of the ornaments of an orator, deserves to be considered as one of the most eloquent men in the world; if e quence may be said to consist in the power of seizing the attention with irresistible force, and never permitting it to elude the grasp until the hearer has received the conviction which the speaker intends.

5. As to his person, it has already been described. His voice is dry and hard; his attitude, in his most effective orations, was often extremely awkward, as it was not unusual for him to stand with his left foot in advance; while all his gesture proceeded from his right arm, and consisted merely in a vehement, perpendicular swing of it, from about the elevation of his head to the bar, behind which he was accustomed to stand.

6. As to fancy, if she hold a seat in his mind at all, which I very much doubt, his gigantic genius tramples with disdain on all her flower-decked plats and blooming parterres. How, then, you will ask, with a look of incredulous curiosity, how is it possible that such a man can hold the attention of an audience enchained through a speech of even ordinary length? I will tell you.

7. He possesses one original, and almost supernatural faculty, the faculty of developing a subject by a single glance of his mind, and detecting at once the very point on which every controversy depends. No matter what the question: though ten times more knotty than "the gnarled oak," the lightning of heaven is not more rapid nor more resistless than his astonishing penetration.

8. Nor does the exercise of it seem to cost him an effort. On the contrary, it is as easy as vision. I am persuaded that his eyes do not fly over a landscape, and take in its various objects with more promptitude and facility, than his mind embraces and analyses the most complex subject.

9. Possessing while at the bar this intellectual elevation,

Which enabled him to look down and comprehend the whole ground at once, he determined, immediately, and without difficulty, on which side the question might be most advantageously approached and assailed.

10. In a bad cause his art consisted in laying his premises so remotely from the point directly in debate, or else in terms so general and specious, that the hearer, seeing no consequence which could be drawn from them, was just as willing to admit them as not; but, his premises once admitted, the demonstration, however distant, followed as certainly, as cogently, and as inevitably, as any demonstration of Euclid.

11. All his eloquence consists in the apparently deep self-conviction and emphatic earnestness of his manner; the correspondent simplicity and energy of his style; the close and logical connexion of his thoughts; and the easy gradations by which he opens his lights on the attentive minds of his hearers.

12. The audience are never permitted to pause for a moment. There is no stopping to weave garlands of flowers be hung in festoons around a favorite argument. On the ntrary, every sentence is progressive; every idea sheds new light on the subject; the listener is kept perpetually in that sweetly pleasurable vibration, with which the mind of man always receives new truths; the dawn advances in easy but unremitting pace; the subject opens gradually on the view; until, rising in high relief in all its native colors and proportions, the argument is consummated by the conviction of the delighted hearer.

LESSON XVI.

Death of Ashmun.-MRS. SIGOURNEY.

WHOSE is yon sable bier?

Why move the throng so slow?
Why doth that lonely mother's tear

In sudden anguish flow?

Why is that sleeper laid

To rest in manhood's pride?

How gain'd his cheek such pallid shade?—
I spake, but none replied.

The hoarse wave murmured low,
The distant surges roar'd;-
And o'er the sea in tones of wo
A deep response was pour'd;
I heard sad Africk mourn

Upon her billowy strand;-
A shield was from her bosom torn,
An anchor from her hand.-

Ah! well I know thee now,

Though foreign suns would trace
Deep lines of death upon thy brow,
Thou friend of misery's race;--
Their leader when the blast
Of ruthless war swept by,

Their teacher when the storm was past
Their guide to worlds on high.

Spirit of Power,-pass on!—

Thy homeward wing is free;Earth may not claim thee for her son,—

She hath no chain for thee:

Toil might not bow thee down,-
Nor sorrow check thy race,—
Nor pleasure win thy birthright crown,-
Go to thy own blest place.

LESSON XVII.

The Pilgrim Fathers.-PEIRFONT.

THE pilgrim fathers where are they?
The waves that brought them o'er
Still roll in the bay, and throw their spray
As they break along the shore;

Still roll in the bay, as they rolled that day,
When the May-Flower moored below,

When the sea around was black with storms,

And white the shore with snow.

The mists that wrapped the pilgrim's sleep,
Still brood upon the tide;

And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep,
To stay its waves of pride,

But the snow-white sail that he gave to the gale
When the heavens looked dark, is gone;—
As an angel's wing, through an opening cloud,
Is seen, and then withdrawn.

The pilgrim exile-sainted name!—
The hill, whose icy brow

Rejoiced, when he came, in the morning's flame,
In the morning's flame burns now,

And the moon's cold light, as it lay that night
On the hill-side and the sea,

Still lies where he laid his houseless head;-
But the pilgrim-where is he?

The pilgrim fathers are at rest:

When Summer's throned on high,

And the world's warm breast is in verdure dressed, Go, stand on the hill where they lie.

The earliest ray of the golden day

On that hallowed spot is cast;

And the evening sun, as he leaves the world,
Looks kindly on that spot last.

The pilgrim spirit has not fled:
It walks in noon's broad light;
And it watches the bed of the glorious dead,
With the holy stars, by night.

It watches the bed of the brave who have bled,
And shall guard this ice-bound shore,

Till the waves of the bay, where the May-Flower lay
Shall foam and freeze no more.

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