Sidor som bilder


The morrow, and the morrow's meeds,We are asked, what have we gained by the No daunting thoughts-came o'er him; war? I have shown, that we have lost noth He looked around him, and his eyeing, either in rights, territory, or honor; noth Defiance flashed-to earth, and sky. ing, for which we ought to have contended, according to the principles of the gentlemen

He looked on ocean,-its broad breast on the other side, or according to our own.

Was covered-with his fleet; Have we gained nothing-by the war? Let On earth : and saw, from east--to west, any man--look at the degraded condition of His bannered millions meet: this country--before the war, the scorn of While rock, and glen, and cave, and coast, the universe, the contempt of ourselves, and Shook-with the war-cry of that host, tell me if we have gained nothing by the

The thunder--of their feet! war. What is our present situation ? Respectability, and character, abroad, security,

He heard--the imperial echoes ring and confidence, at home. If we have not ob He heard,--and felt himself-a king. tained, in the opinion of some, the full meas I saw him, next, alone: nor camp, ure of retribution, our character, and constitu

Nor chief, his steps attended; tion, are placed on a solid basis, never to be shaken.

Nor banner blazed, nor courser's tramp, The glory acquired by our gallant tars, by

With war-cries, proudly blended, our Jacksons, and our Browns on the land He, atood alone, whom fortune high, is that-nothing?. True we had our vicissi So lately, seemed to deify; tudes: there are humiliating events, which He, who with heaven contended, the patriot cannot review, without deep re

Fled, like a fugitive, and slave! gret--but the great account, when it comes

Behind the foe; before, ---the wave. to be balanced, will be found vastly in our favor. Is there a man, who would obliterate,

He stood; fleet, army, treasure,---gone, from the proud pages of our history, the bril Alone, and in dispair ! liant achievements of Jackson, Brown, and But wuve, and windswept ruthless on, Scott, and the host of heroes on land, and

For they were monarchs there; sea, whom I cannot enumerate? Is there a

And Xerxes, in a single bark, man, who could not desire a participation

Where late his thousand ships were dark, in the national glory, acquired by the war? Yes, national glory, which, however the ex

Must all their fury dare : pression may be condemned by some, must What a revenge-a trophy, this be cherished by every genuine patriot.

For thee, immortal Salamis !Jewsbury, What do I mean by national glory ? Glo

599. OSSIAN'S ADDRESS TO THE MOON.. ry such as Hull, Jackson, and Perry have acquired. And are gentlemen insensible to

Daughter of heaven, fair art thou! the sitheir deeds--to the value of them in anima- lence of thy face is pleasant! Thou comest ting the country in the hour of peril hereaf- forth in lovliness. The stars attend thy blue ter? Did the battle of Thermopylæ--pre-course in the east. The clouds rejoice in serve Greece but once? Whilst the Missis- thy presence, 0 moon. They brighten their sippi-continues to bear the tributes of the dark-brown sides. Who is like thee, in heavIron Mountains, and the Alleghenies--to her en, light of the silent night! The stars, in Delta, and to the Gulf of Mexico, the eighth thy presence, turn away their sparkling eyes of January shall be remembered, and the glo- when the darkness of thy countenance grows?

Whither dost thou retire from thy course, ry of that day shall stimulate future patriots, and nerve the arms of unborn freemen, in Hast thou thy hall, like Ossian ? Dwellest driving the presumptuous invader from our thou in the shadow of grief! Have thy siscountry's soil.

ters fallen from heaven! Are they, who reGentlemen may boast of their insensibility joice with thee at vight, no more? Yes! to feelings inspired by the contemplation of they have fallen, fair

light! and thou dost oft.. such events. But I would ask, does the re- en retire to mourn. But thou tl:y self shalt collection of Bunker's Hill, Saratoga, and fail, one night, and leave thy blue path in

heaven. Yorktown, afford no pleasure ? Every act of noble sacrifice of the country, every in

The stars will then lift up their heads, and stance of patriotic devotion to her cause, has rejoice. Thou art now clothed with thy its beneficial influence. A nation's character brightness. Look from thy gates in the sky. -is the sum of its splendid deeds; they con- | Burst the cloud, O wind, that the daughter of stitute one common patrimony, the nation's night may look forth: that the shaggy mouninheritance. They awe foreign powers; they tains may brighten, and the ocean roll its arouse and animate our own people. I love white waves in light. trile glory. It is this sentiment which ought to be cherished; and, in spite of cavils, and Her sails were set, but the dying wind sneers, and attempts to put it down, it will Scarce wooed them, as they trembled on the yard rise triumphant, and finally conduct this na- With an uncertain motion. She aroses tion to that height to which nature, and na- As a swan rises on her gilded wings, ture's God—have destined it.--Clay.

When on a lake, at sunset, she uprears. 598. THE FLIGHT OF XERXES.

Her form from out the waveless stream, and steersI saw him--on the battle-eve,

Into the far blue ether-so, that ship
When, like a king, he bore him,

Seem'd lifted from the waters, and suspended, Proud hosts, in glittering helm, and greave,

Wing'd with her bright sails, in the silent air. And prouder chiefs-before him:

For age, and roant, server while you may; The warrior, and the warrior's deeds No morning sun-lasts a whole day.


592. A BATTLE-FIELD. We cannot see Cæsar says to me,-"Darest thou, Cassius, now an individual expire, though a stranger, or Leap in with me, into this angry flood, an enemy, without being sensibly moved, and And swim to yonder point ?” — Upon the word, prompted by compassion, to lend him every Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, assistance in our power. Every trace of re- And bade him follow; 80, indeed, he did. sentment- vanishes in a moment; every other emotion-gives way to pity and terror.

The torrent roared, and we did buffet it ; In these last extremities, we remember noth- With lusty sinews, throwing it aside, ing, but the respect and tenderness, due to And stemming it, with hearts of controversy. our common nature. What a scene, then, But ere we could arrive the point proposed, must a field of battle present, where thou: Cæsar cried,—“Help me, Cassius, or I sink." sands are left, without assistance, and with I, as Æneas, our great ancestor, out pity, with their wounds exposed to the piercing air, while their blood, freezing as it Did from the flames of Troy, upon his shoulder Hows, binds them to the earth, amid the The old Anchises bear, 80, from the waves of trampling of horses, and the insults of an en- Did the tired Cæsar; and this man [Tiber, ranged foe! Far from their native home, Is now-become a god; and Cassius-is no tender assiduities of friendship, no well- A wretched creature, and must bend his body, known voice, no wife, or mother, or sister, is if Cæsar-carelessly but nod on him. near, to soothe their sorrows, relieve their

He had a fever when he was in Spain, thirst, or close their eyes in death. Unhappy man! and must you be swept into the grave, And when the fit was on him, I did mark unnoticed, and unnumbered, and no friendly How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake; tear be shed for your sufferings, or mingled His coward lips did from their color fly; with your dust?

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the 593. BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE. Did lose its lustre; I did hear him groan, (world, Not a drum I was heard i nor a funeral | note, Aye, and that tongue of bis,that bade the Romans

As his corse I to the ramparts i we hurried, Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, Not a soldier I discharged I his farewell shot, “Alas!" it cried—“Give me some drink, Titinius."

O'er the grave I where our hero I we buried. As a sick girl. 'We buried him I darkly I at dead of night,

Ye gods! it doth aina ze me, The turf I with our bay'nets I turning.

A man of such a feeble temper-should .By the struggling inoonbeam's I misty light, So get the start of the majestic world, And our lanterns I dimly burning.

And bear the palm alone. Few and short I were the prayers I we said,

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, And we spoke | not a word l of sorrow, [dead, Like a Colossus, and we, petty men, But we steadfastly gazed I on the face of the

Walk under his huge legs, and peep about, And we bitterly thought I on the morrow.

To find ourselves dishonorable graves. No useless coffin I confined his breast,

Men, at some time, are masters of their fates : Nor in sheet I nor in shroud I we bound him,

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But he lay I like a warrior I taking his rest,

But in ourselves, that we are underlings. [Cæsar? With his martial cloak I around him.

Brutus--and Cæsar ! What should be in that We thought | as we heaped I the narrow bed,

Why should that name be sounded more than And smoothed down | his lonely pillow,

yours? That the foe / and the stranger I would tread o'er Write them together: yours is as fair a name;

And we | far away on the billow. [his head, Sound them : it doth become the mouth as well; Lightly they'll talk | of the spirit I that's gone,

Weigh them : it is as heavy ; conjure with 'em : And o'er his cold ashes I upbraid him,

Brutus-will start a spirit, as soon as Cæsar. But nothing he'll reck | if they let him sleep on,

Now, in the name of all the gods at once, In the grave I where a Briton has laid him.

Upon what meats-doth this our Cæsar feed,

That he hath grown so great ? Age, thon art But half I our heavy task I was done,

ashamed; When the clock I told the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant land random gun,

Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods.

When went there by an age, since the great flood, That the foe I was sullenly firing.

But it was famed with more than with one man? Slowly I and sadly I we laid him down, From the field of his fame, fresh, and gory,

When could they say, till now, that talked of

Rome, We carved not a line, we raised not a stone,

That her wide walls encompassed but one man? But we left him I alone in his glory.

Oh! you, and I-have heard our fathers say, 594. CASSIUS AGAINST CESAR.

There was a Brutus once, th't would have brooked Honor-is the subject of my story ;

The infernal devil, to keep his state in Rome, I cannot tell what you, and other men-

As easily as a king.
Think of this life; but for my single self,

A warm heart-in this cold world-is like
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe-of such a thing as myself.

A beacon-light-wasting feeble flame
I was born free as Cæsar; so were you ;

Upon the wintry deep, that feels it not, We have both fed as well; and we can both

And, trembling with each pitiless gust th't blows, Endure the winter's cold as well as he.

Till its faint fire—is spent. For, once upon a raw and gusty day,

Nature, in her productions slow. aspires, The troubled Tiber, chafing with its shores, By just degrees, to reach perfection's height.

604. AGAINST THE AMERICAN WAR. I cannot, my lords, I will not, join in congratulation on misfortune, and disgrace. This, my lords, is a perilous, and tremendous moment. It is not a time for adulation: the smoothness of flattery-cannot save us, in this rugged, and awful crisis. It is now necessary, to instruct the throne, in the language of truth. We must, if possible, dispel the delusion, and darkness, which envelop it; and display, in its full danger, and genuine colors, the ruin, which is brought to our doors. Can ministers, still presume to expect support, in their infatuation? Can parliament, be so dead to its dignity, and duty, as to give their support to measures, thus obtruded, and forced upon them? Measures, my lords, which have reduced this late flourishing empire-to scorn, and contempt! “But yesterday, and Britain might have stood against the world; nowv, none so poor, as to do her reverence. The people, whom we at first despised as rebels, but whom we now acknowledge as enemies, are abetted against us, supplied with every military store, have their interest consulted, and their embassadors entertained by our inveterate enemy-and ministers do not, and VARE not, interpose, with dignity, or effect. The desperate state of our army abroad, is in part known. No man more highly esteems, and honors the British troops, than I do; I know their virtues, and their valor; I know they can achieve anything, but impossibilities; and I know that the conquest of British America is an impossibility. You cannot, my lords, you cannot conquer America. What is your present situation there? We do not know the worst; but we know, that in three campaigns, we have done nothing, and suffered much. You may swell every expense, and accumulate every assistance, and extend your traffic to the shambles of every German despot: your attempts will be forever vain, and impotent-doubly, so, indeed, from this mercenary aid, on which you rely; for it irritates, to an incurable resentment, the minds of your adversaries, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine, and plunder, devoting them, and their possessions, to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. If I were an Americirn, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down my arms; No-Never, never, never.-Chatham.

The kings, who rule mankind with haughty sway,
The prouder pope, whom even kings obey (fall,
Love, at whose shrine both popes, and monarchs
And e'en self-interest, that controls them all-
Possess a petty power, when all combined,
Compared with fashion's influence on mankind;
For love itself will oft to fashion bow;
The following story will convince you how:

A petit maitre wooed a fair,
Of virtue, wealth, and graces rare;
But vainly had preferr'd his claim,
The maiden own'd no answering flame;
At length, by doubt and anguish torn,
Suspense, 100 painful to be borne,
Low at her feet he humbly kneeld,
And thus his ardent flame reveal'd:

"Pity my grief, angelic fair,
Behold my anguish, and despair;
For you, ihis heart must ever burn-
O bless me, with a kind return;
My love, no language can express,
Reward it then, with happiness;

Nothing on earth, but you I prize,
All else is trifling in my eyes;
And cheerfully, would I resign
The wealth of worlds, to call you mine.
But, if another gain your hand,
Far distant from my native land,
Far hence, from you, and hope, I'll fly,
And in some foreign region die.”

The virgin heard, and thus replied:
"If my consent to be your bride,
Will make you happy, then be blest;
But grant me, first, one small request;
A sacrifice I must demand,
And, in return, will give my hand.”

“A sacrifice! O speak its name, For you I'd forfeit wealth, and fame; Take my whole fortune-every cent

“ 'Twas something more than wealth I meant."

“ Must I the realms of Neptune trace?
O speak the word—where'er the place,
For you, the idol of my soul,
I'd e'en explore the frozen pole ;
Arabia's sandy desert tread,
Or trace the Tigris to its head."

“O no, dear sir, I do not ask,
So long a voyage, so hard a task;
You must-but ah! the boon I want,
I have no hope that you will grant."

“Shall I, like Bonaparte, aspire
To be the world's imperial sire?
Express the wish, and here I vow,
To place a crown upon your brow."

“Sir, these are trifles”—she replied“But, if you wish me for your bride, You must-but still I fear to speakYou'll never grant the boon I seek.”

“O say!” he cried—“dear angel say-
What must I do, and I obey;
No longer rack me with suspense,
Speak your commands, and send me hence.”

"Well, then, dear generous youth !" she cries,
“ If thus my heart you really prize,
And wish to link your fate with mine,
On one condition I am thine;
"Twill then become my pleasing duty,
To contemplate a husband's beauty;
And, gazing on his manly face,
His feelings, and his wishes trace;
To banish thence each mark of care,
And light a smile of pleasure there.
O let me then, 'tis all I ask,
Commence at once the pleasing task ;
O let me, as becomes my place,
Cut those huge whiskers from your face.”

She said—but 0, what strange surprise-
Was pictured in her lover's eyes !
Like lightning, from the ground he sprung,
While wild amazement tied his tongue;
A statue, motionless, he gazed,
Astonish'd, horror-struck, amazed
So, look'd the gallant Perseus, when
Medusa's visage met his ken;.
So, look'd Macbeth, whose guilty eye
Discern'd an " air-drawn dagger” nigh;
And so, the prince of Denrnark stared,
When first his father's ghost appeared.

At length, our hero, silence broke,
And thus, in wildest accents spoke:
“Cut off my whiskers! O ye gods !
I'd sooner lose my ears, by odds;
Madam, I'd not be so disgraced,
So lost to fashion, and to taste,
To win an mpress to my arms;
Though blest with more than mortal charms.
My whiskers ! Zounds !" He said no more,
But quick retreated through the door,
And sought a less obdurate fair,
To take the beau, with all his hair.- Woodworth,

This path, you say, is hid in endless night;
"Tis self conceit, alone, obstructs your sighi.


597. Ossian's ADDRESS TO THE Sux. 01 599. OF ELOCUTION. Elocution-is the thou, that rollest above, round as the shield art, or the act, of so delivering our own tho'ts of my fathers! whence are thy beams, () and feelings, or the thoughts and feelings of sun! thy everlasting light? Thou comest others, as not only to convey to those around forth in thy awful beauty; the stars — hide us, with precision, force, and harmony, the full themselves in the sky; the moon, cold and purport, and meaning of the words and senpale, sinks in the western wave. But thou, tences, in which these thoughts are clothed; thyself, movest alone: who can be a com- but also, to excite and to impress upon their panion of thy course? The oaks of the minds the feelings, imaginations, and pas. mountains fall; the mountains themselves sions, by which those thoughts are dictated, or decay with years: the ocean shrinks, and by which they should naturally be accompanigrows again; the moon, herself, is lost in the ed. Elocution, therefore, in its more ample heavens; but thou-art' forever the same, re- and liberal signification, is not confined to the joicing in the brightness of thy course. When mere exercise of the organs of speech. It the world is dark with tempests, when thun- embraces the whole theory and practice of ders roll, and lightnings fly, thou lookest in the exterior demonstration of the inward thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at workings of the mind. To concentrate what the storm. But to Ossian—thou lookest in has been said by an allegorical recapitulation: vain; for he beholds thy beams no more; Eloquence may be considered as the soul, or whether thy yellow hair—flows on the east- animated principle of discourse; and is deern clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of pendent on intellectual energy and intellectthe west. But thou art, perhaps, like me, for ual attainments. Elocution is the emboa season: thy years will have an end. Thou dying form, or representative power; depenwilt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice dent on exterior accomplishments, and on of the morning.

the cultivation of the organs. Oratory-is

the complicated and vital existence, resulting 598. DOUGLAS'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF.

from the perfect harmony and combination My name is Norval: on the Grampian hills

of eloquence and elocution. The vital exisMy father feeds his flocke; a frugal swain, tence, however, in its full perfection, is one Whose constant cares, were to increase his store, of the choicest rarities of nature. The high And keep his only son, myself, at home.

and splendid accomplishments of oratory, For I had heard of battles, and I longed

even in the most favored age and the most

favored countries, have been attained by few; To follow to the field-some warlike lord;

and many are the ages, and many are the And Heaven soon granted--what my sire denied. countries, in which these accomplishments This moon which rose last night, round as my shield, have never once appeared. Generations have Had not yet filled her horn, when, by her light, succeeded to generations, and centuries have A band of fierce barbarians, from the hills,

rolled after centuries, during which, the in

tellectual desert has not exbibited even one Rushed like a torrent-down upon the vale, Sweeping our flocks and herds. The shepherds fled solitary specimen of the stately growth and

flourishing expansion of oratorical genius. For safety, and for succor. I, alone,

The rarity of this occurrence is, undoubtedly, With bended bow, and quiver full of arrows, in part, to be accounted for, from the difficulHovered about the enemy, and marked

ty of the attainment. The palm of oratoriThe road he took ; then hasted to my friends, cal perfection is only to be grasped--it is, in Whom, with a troop of fifty chosen men, reality, only to be desired, by aspiring souls,

and intellects of unusual energy. It reI met advancing. The pursuit I led, Till we o'ertook the spoil-encumbered foe. [drawn, quires a persevering

toil which few would be

contented to encounter; a decisive intrepidWe fought, and conquered. Ere a sword was ity of character, and an untamableness of An arrow from my bow—had pierced their chief, mental ambition, which very, very few can Who wore, that day, the arms which now I wear. be expected to possess. It requires, also, Returning home in triumph, I disdained

conspicuous opportunities for cultivation and The shepherd's slothful life; and having heard display, to which few can have the fortune 'That our good king—had summoned his bold peers the hardihood to endeavor to create.

to be born, and which fewer still will have To lead their warriors to the Carron side, I left my father's house, and took with me A chosen servant to conduct my steps,

Down the smooth stream of life the stripling darts, Yon trembling coward, who forsook his master. Gay as the morn; bright glows the vernal sky, Journeying with this intent, I passed these towers, Hope swells his sails, and Passion steers his course. And, heaven-directed, came this day to do So glides his little bark along the shore, The happy deed, that gilds my humble name.

Where virtue takes her stand: but if too far

He launches forth beyond discretion's mark,

Sudden the tempest scowls, the surges roar,
The shepherd lad, who, in the sunshine, carves

Blot his fair day, and plunge him in the deep. On the green turf a dial, to divide The silent hours; and who, to that report,

-My boy, the unwelcome hour is come, Can portion out his pleasures, and adapt

When thou, transplanted from thy genial home, His round of pastoral duties, is not left

Must find a colder soil, and bleaker air, With less intelligence, for moral things,

And trust for safetyto a stranger's care." Of gravest import. Early, he perceives, Deceit—is the false road to happiness ; Within himself, a measure, and a rule,

And all the joys we travel to, through vice, Which, to the sun of truth, he can apply,

Like fairy banquets, vanish when we touch them. : That shines for him, and shines for all mankind. See all, but man, with unearn'd pleasure gay.


600. SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS ON a state to enjoy all the benefits of victory, if we ADOPTING THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. gain the victory? It is true, indeed, that in the beginning, we aim If we fail, it can be no worse for us. But we ed not at independence. But there's a Divinity, shall not fail. The cause will raise up armies; which shapes our ends. The injustice of England the cause will create navies. The people, if we has driven us to arms; and, blinded to her own are true to them, will carry us, and will carry interest, for our good, she has obstinately persist- themselves, gloriously through this struggle. I care ed, till independence is now within our grasp. not how fickle other people have been found. I We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. know the people of these colonies; and I know, Why, then, should we defer the declaration? Is that resistance to British aggression is deep and any man so weak, as now to hope for a reconci- settled in their hearts, and cannot be eradicated. liation with England, which shall leave either Every colony, indeed, has expressed its willingsafety to the country, and its liberties, or safety to ness to follow, if we but take the lead. his own life, and his own honor ?

Sir, the declaration will inspire the people with Are not you, sir, who sit in that chair; is not increased courage. Instead of a long and bloody he, our venerable colleague near you; are you not war for restoration of privileges, for redress of both, already, the proscribed, and predestined ob- grievances, for chartered immunities, held under jects of punishment, and of vengeance? Cut off a British king, set before them the glorious object from all hope of royal clemency, what are you, of entire independence, and it will breathe into what can you be, while the power of England re them anew the breath of life. Read this declaramains, but outlaws? If we postpone independence, lion at the head of the army; every sword will be do we mean to carry on, or to give up the war? drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow utDo we mean to submit to the measures of parlia- tered, to maintain it or to perish on the bed of honor. ment, Boston port-bill and all ? Do we mean to Publish it from the pulpit; religion will approve it, submit, and consent that we ourselves shall be and the love of religious liberty will cling around ground to powder, and our country and its rights it, resolved to stand with it, or fall with it. Send trodden down in the dust?

it to the public halls; proclaim it there; let them I know we do not mean to submit. We nerer hear it, who heard the first roar of the enemy's shall submit. Do we intend to violate that most cannon; let them see it, who saw their brothers solemn obligation, ever entered into by men, that and their sons fall on the field of Bunker-Hill, and plighting, before God, of our sacred honor to Wash in the streets of Lexington and Concord,—and the ington, when, putting him forth to incur the dangers very walls will cry out in its support. of war, as well as the political hazards of the times, Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs; we promised to adhere to him, in every extrem- but I see clearly, through this day's business. You ily, with our fortunes, and our lives?

and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live to I know there is not a man here, who would not the time, when this declaration shall be made good. rather see a general conflagration sweep over the We may die; die, colonists; die, slaves; die, it land, or an earthquake sink it, than one joi or little may be, ignominiously, and on the scaffold. Be it of that plighted faith to fall to the ground. For so. If it be the pleasure of Heaven, that my counmyself, having, twelve months ago, in this place, try shall require the poor offering of my life, the moved you. that George Washington be appointed | victim shall be ready, at the appointed hour of commander of the forces, raised, or to be raised, sacrifice, come when that hour may. for defence of American liberty, may my right But, whatever may be our fate, be assured that hand forget her cunning, and my tongue cleave to this declaration will stand. It may cost treasure, the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate, or waver in the and it may cost blood; but it will stand, and it will support I give him.

richly compensate for both. Through the thick The war, then, must go on. We must fight it gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the through. And, if the war must go on, why put off future as the sun in heaven. We shall make this longer, the declaration of independence? That a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in measure will strengthen us. It will give us char- our graves, our children will honor it. They will acter abroad. The nations will then treat with us; celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, with which they never can do, while we acknowledge bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual return. ourselves subjects, in arms against our sovereign. they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, not of Nay, I maintain, thai England herself will sooner subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, treat for peace with us, on the footing of indepen- but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, bedence, than consent, by repealing her acts, to ac- fore God I believe the hour is come. My judgment knowledge that her whole conduct toward us, has approves this measure, and my whole heart is in been a course of injustice and oppression. it. All that I am, all that I have, and all that I hope

Her pride will be less wounded, by submitting for, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon 10 that course of things, which now predestinates it: and I leave off, as I began; sink or swim; live our independence, than by yielding the points in or die; survive, or perish, I am for the declaration: controversy to her rebellious subjects. The former it is my liring sentiment; and, by the blessing of she would regard as the result of fortune; the latter God, it shall be my dying sentiment-Independence she would feel as her own deep disgrace. Why now! and independence-FOREVER!— Webster. then, sir, do we not, as soon as possible, change this from a civil to a national war? And, since Be not dismayed-fear-nurses up a danger; we must fight it through, why not put ourselves in And resolution-kills it,-in the birth.

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