Page images

But when of morn and eve the star

Beholds me on my knee,
I feel, though thou art distant far,

Thy prayers ascend for me.

Then on! then on! where duty leads,

My course be onward still,
O'er broad Hindoostan's sultry meads,

O'er bleak Almorah's hill.

That course, nor Delhi's kingly gates,

Nor wild Malwah detain,
For sweet the bliss us both awaits

By yonder western main.

Thy towers, Bombay, gleam bright, they say,

Across the dark blue sea,
But ne'er were hearts so light and gay,

As then shall meet in thee.


Commanding Position of the United States.-DANIEL


Our country stands, at the present time, on commanding ground. Older nations, with different systems of government, may be somewhat slow to acknowledge all that justly belongs to us. But we may feel, without vanity, that America is doing her part in the great work of improving human affairs. There are two principles, strictly and purely American, which are now likely to overrun the civilized world. Indeed, they seem the necessary result of the progress of civilization and knowledge. These are, first, popular governments, restrained by writ

981209A ten constitutions; and, secondly, universal education. Popular governments and general education, acting and reacting, mutually producing and reproducing each other, are the mighty agencies which, in our days, appear to be exciting, stimulating and changing civilized societies. Man every where is now found demanding a participation in government,—and he will not be refused, -and he demands knowledge as necessary to self-government. On the basis of these two principles, liberty and knowledge, our own American systems rest. Thus far we have not been disappointed in their results. Our existing institutions, raised on these foundations, have conferred on us almost unmixed happiness. Do we hope to better our condition by change? When we shall have nullified the present constitution, what are we to receive in its place? As fathers, do we wish for our children better government or better laws ? As members of society, as lovers of our country, is there any thing we can desire for it better than that, as ages and centuries roll over it, it may possess the same invaluable institutions which it now enjoys ? For my part, I can only say, that I desire to thank the beneficent Author of all good, for being born where I was born, and when I was born; that the portion of human existence allotted to me, has been meted.out to me in this goodly land, and at this interesting period. I rejoice that I have lived to see so much developement of truth, so much progress of liberty, so much diffusion of virtue and happiness. And, through good report and evil report, it will be my consolation to be a citizen of a republic, unequalled in the annals of the world, for the freedom of its institutions, its high prosperity, and the prospects of good which yet lie before it. Our course is onward, straight onward, and forward. Let us not turn to the right hand nor to the left. Our path is marked out for us, clear, plain, bright, distinctly defined, like the milky way across the heavens. If we are true to our country, in our day and generation, and those who come after us shall be true to it also, assuredly, assuredly, we shall elevate her to a pitch of prosperity and happiness, of honor and power, never yet reached by any nation beneath the sun.


Scene from Remorse, a Tragedy.-S. T. COLERIDGE.

The sea shore on the coast of Granada. Don ALVAR, wrapped in a boat

cloak, and ZuLIMEZ (a Moresco), both as just landed.

Zulimez. No sound, no face of joy, to welcome us!

Alvar. My faithful Zulimez, for one brief moment Let me forget my anguish and their crimes. If aught on earth demand an unmixed feeling, 'Tis surely this after long years of exile, To step forth on firm land, and, gazing round us, To hail at once our country and our birth-place. Hail, Spain! Granada, hail! Once more I

press Thy sands with filial awe, land of my fathers! Zul. Then claim your rights in it! O revered Don

Yet, yet give up your all too gentle purpose,
It is too hazardous ! reveal yourself,
And let the guilty meet the doom of guilt !

Alv. Remember, Zulimez! I am his brother :
Injured, indeed! Oh, deeply injured! yet
Ordonio's brother.

Zul. Nobly-minded Alvar!
This sure but gives his guilt a blacker dye.

Alv. The more behoves it, I should rouse within him
Remorse! that I should save him from himself.
Zul. Remorse is as the heart in which it

grows : If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy,

The years

It is a poison-tree, that, pierced to the inmost,
Weeps only tears of poison.

Alv. And of a brother
Dare I hold this, unproved ? nor make one effort
To save him !-Hear me, friend : I have yet to tell thee,
That this same life, which he conspired to take,
Himself once rescued from the angry flood,
And at the imminent hazard of his own.
Add, too, my oath-
Zul. You have thrice told already

of absence and of secrecy
To which a forced oath bound you : if, in truth,
A suborned murderer have the power to dictate
A binding oath.

Alv. My long captivity
Left me no choice: the very wish, too, languished
With the fond hope that nursed it; the sick babe
Drooped at the bosom of its famished mother.
But (more than all) Teresa's perfidy;
The assassin's strong assurance, when no interest,
No motive could have tempted him to falsehood;
In the first pangs of his awakened conscience,
When, with abhorrence of his own black purpose,
The murderous weapon, pointed at my breast,
Fell from his palsied hand.

Zul. Heavy presumption !
Alv. It weighed not with me.--Hark! I will tell thee

all :

As we passed by, I bade thee mark the base
Of yonder cliff-

Zul. That rocky seat, you mean,
Shaped by the billows ?-

Alv. There Teresa met me,
The morning of the day of my departure.
We were alone : the purple hue of dawn
Fell from the kindling east aslant upon us,
And, blending with the blushes on her cheek,

Suffused the tear-drops there with rosy light.
There seemed a glory round us, and Teresa
The angel of the vision !

Hadst thou seen
How, in each motion, her most innocent soul
Beamed forth and brightened, thou thyself wouldst tell me,
Guilt is a thing impossible in her!
She must be innocent!


Character of David Brainerd and Henry Martyn.


The life and diary of David Brainerd, missionary to the American Indians, exhibits a perfect pattern of the qualities which should distinguish the instructor of rude and barbarous tribes ; the most invincible patience and self-denial, the profoundest humility, exquisite prudence, indefatigable industry, and such a devotedness to God, or rather such an absorption of the whole soul in zeal for the divine glory and the salvation of men, as is scarcely to be paralleled since the age of the apostles. Such was the intense ardor of his mind, that it seems to have diffused the spirit of a martyr over the most common incidents of his life. His constitutional melancholy, though it must be regarded as a physical imperfection, imparts an additional interest and pathos to the narrative ; since we more easily sympathize with the emotions of sorrow than of joy. There is a monotony in his feelings, it must be acknowledged, and consequently a frequent repetition of the same ideas, which will disgust a fastidious or superficial reader ; but it is the monotomy of sublimity.

The religious public have lately been favored with a rich accession to the recorded monuments of exalted

« PreviousContinue »