READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 704. THE FEMALE CHARACTER. If we glance at those domestic relations, which woman sustains, she appears in an attitude highly interesting. Is she a daughter? She has a strong hold on the parental bosom. By her kind, discreet, obedient, dutiful conduct, she contributes greatly to the happiness of those, who tenderly love her, and who are her natural guardians, and guides. Or, by the opposite conduct, she disappoints their hopes, and pierces their hearts with sorrow. Just in proportion to the superior strength, and tenderness of parental affection, is the happiness or misery resulting from the kind, or unkind deportment of a daughter. Is she a sister? If intelligent and virtuous, she sheds the most kindly influence on the little circle of kindred spirits in which she daily moves. Is she a wife? The relation is most endearing, and its duties most important. Taken, originally, from man's heart, she is ever to be his most kind, atlectionate and faithful partner. To contribute to his happiness, is always to be her first It is hers, not merely to amuse earthly care. his leisure hours, but to be his intelligent companion, friend, and counsellor; his second self; his constant and substantial helper, both as to the concerns of this life, and as to his eternal interests. She is to do him good, all the days of her life. And by so doing, to dwell in his heart. Is she a mother? It is hers, in no small degree, to form the character of the next generation. Constantly with her children, having the chief care of them in their infancy, and early childhood,--the most susceptible, the forming period of life,-to her, in an important sense, are committed the character, and the destiny-of individuals, and nations. Many of the most distinguished, and of the most excellent men, this, or any country has produced, were indebted, under God, chiefly to the exertions of their mothers, during their early childhood. Thus viewed in her domestic relations, woman appears in a highly interesting light. So she does, when seen in other stations. See her taking an active part in various benevolent associations. There, she exerts an influence in the cause of humanity, and of religion, the most powerful, and beneficial. Like an angel of mercy on the wing, she performs her part with promptitude and compassion. 705. THE CONSTANCY OF WOMAN. Woman! Blest partner of our joys and woes! Even in the darkest hour of earthly ill, Untarnished yet, thy fond affection glows, Throbs with each pulse, and beats with every [still, thrill! Bright o'er the wasted scene thou hoverest 706. ALEXANDE SELKIRK. I am monarch-of all I survey, That sages-have seen in thy face! I am out-of humanity's reach, Divinely bestow'd upon man, How soon would I taste you again! In the ways of religion and truth; Resides in that heavenly word! Or all, that this earth can afford. Or smil'd, when a sabbath appear'd. Of a land, I shall visit no more. Though a friend I am never to see. And the swift-wing'd arrows of light And reconciles man to his lot.-Cowper. Our course in youth, and manhood, is along a wider, and deeper flood, and amid objects more striking, and magnificent. We are animated by the moving picture of enjoyment, and industry, which passes before us; we are excited by some short-lived success, or depressed, and made miserable, by some equally short-lived disappointment. But our energy, and our dependence are both in vain. The stream bears us on, and our joys, and our griefs, are alike, left behind us; we may be shipwrecked, but we cannot anchor; our voyage may be hastened, but it cannot be delayed; whether rough or smooth, the river hastens towards its home, till the roaring of the ocean is in our ears, and the tossing of the waves is beneath our keel; and the lands lessen from our eyes, and the floods are lifted up around us, and the earth loses sight of us, 707. THE STREAM OF LIFE. Life-bears In park, in city, yea, in routs ana balls, [wild us on like the stream of a mighty river. Our The hat was worn, and borne. Then folks grew boat, at first glides down the narrow channel, with curiosity, and whispers rose, through the playful murmurings of the little And questions passed about-how one so trim brook, and the windings of its grassy border. In coats, boots, pumps, gloves, trousers, could The trees shed their blossoms over our young heads, the flowers, on the brink, seem to offer His caput--in a covering so vile. [ensconce themselves to our young hands; we are hap- A change came o'er the nature of my hatpy in hope, and we grasp eagerly, at the Grease-spots appeared-but still in silence, on beauties around us; but the stream hurries I wore it-and then family, and friends on, and still our hands are empty. Glared madly at each other. There was one, Who said-but hold-no matter what was said, A time may come, when I-away-away-Not till the season's ripe, can I reveal Thoughts that do lie too deep for common minds, Till then, the world shall not pluck out the heart Of this, my mystery. When I will—I will !— The hat was now-greasy, and old, and tornBut torn-old-greasy--still I wore it on. A change came o'er the business of this hat. Women, and men, and children, scowled on me; My company was shunned-I was alone! None would associate with such a hatFriendship itself proved faithless, for a hat. She, that I loved, within whose gentle breast I treasured up my heart, looked cold as death-Love's fires went out-extinguished-by a hat. and we take our last leave of earth, and of its inhabitants; and of our further voyage, there Of those, that knew me best, some turned aside is no witness, but the Infinite and the Eternal. And scudded down dark lanes-one man did place And do we still take so much anxious His finger on his nose's side, and jeeredthought for future days, when the days which Others, in horrid mockery, laughed outright; have gone by, have so strangely, and uniform-Yea, dogs, deceived by instinct's dubious ray, ly deceived us? Can we still so set our Fixing their swart glare on my ragged hat, hearts on the creatures of God, when we find Mistook me for a beggar--and they barked. by sad experience, the Creator only is permanent? Or, shall we not rather lay aside every Thus, women, men, friends, strangers, lover weight, and every sin which doth most easily One thought pervaded all-it was my hat. [dogs, beset us, and think of ourselves, henceforth, A change-it was the last--came o'er this hat. as wayfaring persons only, who have no For lo! at length, the circling worths went round, abiding inheritance, but in the hope of a better world, and to whom even that world The period was accomplished-and one day would be worse than hopeless, if it were not This tattered, brown, old, greasy coverture, for our Lord Jesus Christ, and the interest we (Time had endeared its vileness,) was transferr'd have obtained in his mercies.. To the possession of a wandering sonOf Israel's fated race-and friends once more Greeted my digits, with the wonted squeeze : Once more I went my way-along-alongAnd plucked no wondering gaze-the hand of With its annoying finger-men, and dogs, [scorn Once more grew pointless, jokeless, laughless, growlless: 708. THE OLD HAT. I had a hat-it was not all a hat- A change came o'er the color of my hat. And last, not least of rescued blessings, love- That, which was black, grew brown, and then What are riches. empire, pow'r, Iuen stared With both their eyes (they stared with one before); And frosty winter came,-and went, and came- But larger means to gratify the will? The man, who builds, and lacks wherewith to pax 1 708. CHARACTER OF PITT. The secre 709. LOCHÍNVAR. ary-stood alone; modern degeneracy-had| O young Lochinvar is come out of the west, not reached him. Original, and unaccom-Thro' all the wide border, his steed was the bestmodating, the features of his character-had And save his good broadsword, he weapon had the hardihood of antiquity. His august mind overawed majesty: and one of his sovereigns thought royalty so impaired in his presence, that he conspired to remove him, in order to be relieved from his superiority. No state chicanery, no narrow system of vicious politics, sank him to the vulgar level of the great; b overbearing, persuasive, and impractic2te, his object-was England, his ambition was fame. Without dividing, he destroyed party; without corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous. France- sank beneath him. With one and, he smote the house of Bourbon, and wielded, with the other, the democracy of England. The sight of his mind-was infinite; and his schemes were to affect, not England, and the present age only, but Europe, and posterity. Wonderful were the means, by which these schemes were accomplished, always seasonable, always adequate, the suggestions of an understanding, animated by ardor, and enlightened by prophety The ordinary feelings, which render life amiable, and indolent, were unknown to him. No domestic difficulty, no domestic weakness reached him; but, aloof from the sordid occurrences of life, and unsullied by its intercourse, he came, occasionally, into our system, to counsel, and to decide. A character so exalted, so strenuous, so various, and so authoritative, astonished a corrupt age; and the Treasury trembled at the name of Pitt, thro' all her classes of venality. Corruption imagined, indeed, that she had found defects in this statesman; and talked much of the ruin of his victories; but the history of his country, and the calamities of the enemy, refuted her. Nor were his political abilities-his only talents: his eloquence-was an era-in the senate; peculiar, and spontaneous, familiarly expressing gigantic sentiments, and instinctive wisdom; not like the torrent of Demosthenes, or the splendid conflagration of Tully, it resembled sometimes the thunder, and sometimes the music of the spheres. He did not, like Murray, conduct the understanding through the painful subtlety of argumentation, nor was he, like Townshend, forever on the rack of exertion; but, rather, lightened upon the subject, and reached the point by flashings of the mind, which, like those of his eye, were felt, but could not be followed. Upon the whole, there was something in this man, that could create, subvert, or reform; an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence, to summon mankind to society, or to break the bonds of slavery asunder, and to rule the wilderness of free minds with unbounded authority-something that could Establish, or overwhelm empires, and strike a blow in the world, which should resound throughout the universe.-Grattan. Reward him for the noble deed, just Heaven! [note. [all, He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. [none, var." The bride kiss'd the goblet, the knight took it up, And the bride maidens whispered, “T were bet- Lochinvar." One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, So light to the croupe, e fair lady he swung, scaur, by clan, [they ran, Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and The good merchant wrongs not the buyer in number, weight, or measure. These are the landmarks of all trading, which must not be removed: for such cosenage were worse than open felony. First, because they rob s man of his purse, and never bid him stand. Secondly, because highway thieves defy, but these pretend, justice. Thirdly, as much as lies in their power, they endeavor to make God accessory to their cosenage, deceiving, by pretending his weights. 710. EULOGIUM ON KOSCIUSKO. erty, and independence, was a work of as much Speech of Gen. W. H. Harrison, the ninth President, in the Con- Thaddeus Kosciusko. The public papers-have announced an event, which is well calculated-to excite the sympathy of every American bosom. KOSCIUSKO, the martyr of Liberty, is no more! We are informed, that he died at Soleure, in France, some time 11 October last. virtues and example. The storm, which he had foreseen, and for which he had been preparing, at length burst upon Poland. A feeble and unpopular government-bent before its fury, and submitted itself to the Russian yoke of the invader. But the nation disdained to follow its example; in their extremity, every eye was turned on the hero, who had alreatly fought their battles, the sage, who had enlightened them, and the patriot, who had set the example of personal sacrificesto accomplish the emancipation of the people. The annals of those times-give us no detail. ed account of the progress of Kosciusko, in accomplishing his great work, from the period of his return to America, to the adoption of the new constitution of Poland, in 1791. This interval, however, of apparent inaction, was most usefully employed to illumine the mental darkness, which enveloped his countrymen. To stimulate the ig in tracing the events-of this great man's life, norant and bigotted peasantry with the hope of we find in him, that consistency of conduct, which future emancipation-to teach a proud, but gal s the more to be admired, as it is so rarely to be ant nobility, that true glory is only to be found, net with. He was not, at one time, the friend of in the paths and duties of patriotism;-interests the mankind, and at another, the instrument of their most opposed, prejudices--the most stubborn, and oppression; but he preserved, throughout his habits-the most inveterate, were reconciled, diewhole career, those noble principles, which dissipated, and broken, by the ascendancy of his tinguished him in its commencement; which influenced him, at an early period of his life, to leave his country-and his friends, and, in another hemisphere, to fight-for the rights-of humanity. Kosciusko was born, and educated, in Poland; (of a noble, and distinguished family.) a country, where the distinctions in society are, perhaps, carried to greater lengths, than in any other. His Creator had, however, endowed him with a soul capable of rising above the narrow prejudices of a caste, and breaking the shackles, which a vicious education had imposed on his mind. Kosciusko-was unanimously appointed gener When he was very young, he was informed, by alissimo of Poland, with unlimited powers, until the voice of Fame, that the standard of liberty the enciny should be driven from the country. On had been erected in America-that an insulted his virtue, the nation reposed with the utmost conand oppressed people-had determined to be free, fidence; and it is some consolation to reflect, or perish-in the attempt. His ardent and gen- amidst the general depravity of mankind, that erous mind-caught, with enthusiasm, the holy two instances, in the same age, have occurred, flame, and from that moment he became the dovo- where powers of this kind were employed-soleted soldier of liberty. His rank in the American ly for the purposes for which they were given. It ariny-afforded him no opportunity-greatly to is not my intention, sir, to follow the Polish chief distinguish himself. But he was remarkable--throughout the career of victory, which, for a through his service, for all the qualities which considerable time, crowned his efforts. Guided adorn the human character. His heroic valor in by his talents, and led by his valor, his undiscipthe field, could only be equaled-by his modera- lined, ill-armed militia-charged, with effect, the tion and affability, in the walks of private life. veteran Russian and Prussian; the mailed cuiHe was idolized by the soldiers-for his bravery, rassiers of the great Frederic, for the first ume and beloved and respected by the officers, for the broke-and fled, before the lighter, and more apgoodness of his heart, and the great qualities ofpropriate cavlary of Poland. Hope filled the his mind. breasts of the patriots. After a long night, the dawn of an apparently glorious day-broke upon Poland. But to the discerning eye of Kosciusko, the light which it shed-was of that sickly, and portentous appearance, indicating a storm more dreadful than that, which he had resisted. Contributing greatly, by his exertions, to the establishment of the independence of America, he might have remained, and shared the blessings it dispensed, under the protection of a chief, who loved and honored him, and in the bosom of a grateful and affectionate people. Kosciusko had, He prepared to meet it with firmness, but with however, other views. It is not known, that un- means entirely inadequate. To the advantages El the period I am speaking of, he had formed any of numbers, of tactics, of discipline, and inexdistinct idea-of what could, or indeed what ought haustible resources, the combined despots had seto be done for his own country. But in the Rev-cured a faction-in the heart of Poland. And. if olutionary war, he drank, deeply, of the princi- that country-can boast of having produced its ples, which produced it. In his conversations Washington, it is disgraced also, by giving birth with the intelligent men of our country, he acqui-to a second Arnold. The day at length came red new views of the science of government, and of the rights of man. He had seen, too, that, to be free, it was only necessary that a nation should will it; and to be happy, it was only necessary that a nation should be free. And was it not poscible to procure these blessings for Poland! for I'o and, the country of his birth, which had a claim to all his efforts, to all his services? which was to decide the fate of a nation and a hero. Heaven, for wise purposes, permitted that it should be the last-of Polish liberty. It was decided, indeed, before the battle commenced. The traitor, Poniski, who covered, with a detach ment, the advance of the Polish army, abandoned his position to the enemy, and retreated. Kosciusko-was astonished, but not dismayed The disposition of his army would have done honor to Hannibal. The succeeding conflict was terrible. When the talents of the general-could no longer direct the mingled mass of combatants, the arm of the warrior was brought to the aid of his soldiers. He performed prodigies of valor. The fabled prowess of Ajax. in defending the Grecian ships-was realized by the Polish hero. Nor was he badly seconded by his troops. As long as his voice could guide, or his example fire their valor, they were irresistible. In this unequal contest-Kosciusko-was org seen, and fi That unhappy nation-groaned under a complication of evils, which has scarcely a paralle! history. The mass of people-were the abject slaves of the nobles; the nobles, torn into factions, were alternately the instruments, and the victims, of their powerful and ambitious neighbors. By intrigue, corruption, and force, some of its fairest provinces had been separated from the republic, and the people, like beasts, transferred to foreign despots, who were again watching for a favorable moment-for a second dismemberment. To regenerate a people-thus debased, to obtain for a co try thus circumstanced, the blessings of lib-nally-lost-to their view. "Hope-for a season, bade the world-farewell, And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell." He fell, covered with wounds, but still survived. A Cossack would have pierced his breast, when an officer interposed. "Suffer him to execute his purpose," said the bleeding hero; "I am the devoted soldier of my country, and will not survive its liberties." The name of Kosciusko-struck to the heart of the Tartar, like that of Mariusupon the Cimbrian warrior. The uplifted weapon-dropped-from his hand. Kosciusko-was conveyed to the dungeons of Petersburgh; and, to the eternal disgrace of the Empress Catharine, she made him the object of her vengeance, when he could no longer be the object of her fears. Her more generous son-restored him to liberty. The remainder of his lifehas been spent in virtuous retirement. Whilst in this situation, in France, an anecdote is related of him, which strongly illustrates the command, which his virtues and his services had obtainedover the minds of his countryinen. In the late invasion of France, some Polish regiments, in the service of Russia, passed through the village in which he lived. Some pillaging of the inhabitants brought Kosciusko from his cottage. "When I was a Polish soldier," said he, addressing the plunderers, "the property of the peaceful citizen was respected." And who art thou," said an officer, "who addressest us with this tone of authority?" "I am Kosciusko." There was a magic in the word. It ran from corps to corps, from heart to heart. The march was suspended. They gathered round him, and gazed-with astonishment, and awe-upon the mighty ruin-he presented. "Could it, indeed, be their hero," whose fame was identified with that of their country? A thousand interesting reflections burst upon their minds; they remembered his patriotisin, his devotion to liberty, his triumphs, and his glorious fall. Their iron hearts were softened, and the tear of sensibility trickled down their weather-beaten faces. We can easily conceive, sir, what would be the feeling of the hero himself in such a scene. His great heart must have heaved with emotion to find himself once more surrounded by the companions of his glory; and that he would have been upon the point of saying to them, "Behold your general, come once more The delusion could have lasted but for a moment. He was himself, alas! a miserable cripple; and, for them! they were no longer the soldiers of liberty, but the instruments of ambition and tyranny. Overwhelmed with grief at the reflection, he would retire to his cottage, to mourn afresh over the miseries of his country. 712. THE VILLAGE BI ACKSMI I. With large and sinewy hands; Are strong, as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long; His brow-iswet with honest sweat; Week out, week in, from morn till night, With measured beat and slow, And children, coming home from school, They love to see a flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, Like chaff--from a threshing-floor And sits among his boys; He hears the parson-pray and preach, And it makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him, like her mother's voice, He needs must think of her once more, Our fortunes must be wrought; Such was the man, sir, for whose memory I Each burning deed, and thought. ask from an American congress, a slight tribute of respect. Not, sir, to perpetuate his fame, but There's a tear that falls when we part our gratitude. His fame-will last as long as lib- From a friend whose loss we shall mourn; erty remains upon the earth; as long as a vota-There's a tear that flows from the half-brok'n heart ry-offers incense upon her altar, the name of When we think he may never return-oh, never Kosciusko-will be invoked. And if, by the com mon consent of the world, a temple shall be erect-Tis hard to be parted from those With whom we forever could dwell, But bitter, indeed, is the sorrow that flows [ever Of the friend, when absence is o'er! Is past, and forgotten our pain; |