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Power which so graciously protected us, and which now protects you, shower its everlasting blessings upon you and your posterity."

Great father of your country! we heed your words; we feel their force as if you uttered them with lips of flesh and blood. Your example teaches us; your affectionate addresses teach us; your public life teaches us your sense of the value of the blessings of the Union. Those blessings our fathers have tasted, and we have tasted, and still taste. Nor do we intend that those who come after us shall be denied the same high fruition. Our honor as well as our happiness is concerned. We cannot, we dare not, we will not betray our sacred trust. We will not filch from posterity the treasure placed in our hands to be transmitted to other generations. The bow that gilds the clouds in the heavens, the pillars that uphold the firmament, may disappear and fall away in the hour appointed by the will of God; but, until that day comes, or so long as our lives may last, no ruthless hand shall undermine that bright arch of Union and Liberty which spans the continent from Washington to California.

IN

LOOK ALOFT.

N the tempest of life, when the waves and the gale
Are around and above, if thy footing should fail,
If thine eye should grow dim, and thy caution depart,
"Look aloft," and be firm, and be fearless of heart.

If thy friend, who embraced in prosperity's glow,
With a smile for each joy, and a tear for each woe,
Should betray thee when sorrows like clouds are arrayed,
"Look aloft" to the friendship which never shall fade.

Should the visions which hope spreads in light to the eye,
Like the tints of the rainbow, but brighten to fly,
Then turn, and, through tears of repentant regret,
"Look aloft" to the sun that is never to set.

Should they who are dearest- the son of thy heart,
The wife of thy bosom-in sorrow depart,

"Look aloft," from the darkness and dust of the tomb, To that soil where affection is ever to bloom.

And oh! when Death comes in his terror to cast
His fears on the future, his pall on the past,

In that moment of darkness, with hope in thy heart,
And a smile in thine eye, "look aloft,"

and depart.

THE REMOVAL.

A

NERVOUS old gentleman, tired of trade

By which, though, it seems, he a fortune had madeTook a house 'twixt two sheds, at the skirts of the town, Which he meant, at his leisure, to buy, and pull down.

This thought struck his mind when he viewed the estate;
But, alas! when he entered he found it too late;
For in each dwelt a smith; a more hard-working two
Never doctored a patient, or put on a shoe.

At six in the morning, their anvils, at work,
Awoke our good squire, who raged like a Turk.
"These fellows," he cried, "such a clattering keep,
That I never can get above eight hours of sleep."

From morning till night they keep thumping away-
No sound but the anvil the whole of the day;
His afternoon's nap and his daughter's new song
Were banished and spoiled by their hammers' ding-dong.

He offered each Vulcan to purchase his shop;
But, no! they were stubborn, determined to stop;
At length, (both his spirits and health to improve,)
He cried, "I'll give each fifty guineas to move."

"Agreed!" said the pair; "that will make us amends." "Then come to my house, and let us part friends; You shall dine; and we'll drink on this joyful occasion, That each may live long in his new habitation."

He gave the two blacksmiths a sumptuous regale;
He spared not provisions, his wine, nor his ale;

So much was he pleased with the thought that each guest Would take from him noise, and restore him to rest.

"And now," said he, "tell me, where mean you to move? I hope to some spot where your trade will improve." "Why, sir,” replied one, with a grin on his phiz, "Tom Forge moves to my shop, and I move to his!"

CATILINE'S DEFIANCE.

The scene, in Croly's tragedy of "Catiline," from which the following is taken, represents the Roman Senate in session, lictors present, a consul in the chair, and Cicero on the floor as the prosecutor of Catiline and his fellow-conspirators. Catiline enters, and takes his seat on the senatorial bench, whereupon the senators go over to the other side. Cicero repeats his charges in Catiline's presence; and the latter rises and replies, "Conscript fathers, I do not rise," etc. Cicero, in his rejoinder, produces proofs, and exclaims:

"Tried and convicted traitor! Go from Rome!"

Catiline haughtily tells the Senate to make the murder as they make the law. Cicero directs an officer to give up the record of Catiline's banishment. Catiline then utters those words: "Banished from Rome," etc.; but when he tells the consul

"He dares not touch a hair of Catiline,"

the consul reads the decree of his banishment, and orders the lictors to drive the "traitor" from the temple. Catiline, furious at being thus baffled, catches at the word "traitor," and terminates the scene with his audacious denunciation, "Here I devote your Senate," etc. At the close, he rushes through the portal, as the lictors and senators crowd upon him.

MONSCRIPT fathers!

waste

I do not rise to waste the night in words;
Let that plebeian talk; 't is not my trade;

But here I stand for right- let him show proofs –
For Roman right; though none, it seems, dare stand
To take their share with me. Ay, cluster there!
Cling to your master, judges, Romans, slaves!
His charge is false; - I dare him to his proofs.
You have my answer. Let my actions speak!

But this I will avow, that I have scorned,
And still do scorn, to hide my sense of wrong!
Who brands me on the forehead, breaks my sword,

Or lays the bloody scourge upon my back,
Wrongs me not half so much as he who shuts
The gates of honor on me-turning out
The Roman from his birthright; and, for what?

To fling your offices to every slave!

[Looking round him.

Vipers, that creep where man disdains to climb,
And, having wound their loathsome track to the top
Of this huge, mouldering monument of Rome,
Hang hissing at the nobler man below!

Come, consecrated lictors, from your thrones;

[To the Senate.

Fling down your sceptres; take the rod and axe,
And make the murder as you make the law!

Banished from Rome! What's banished, but set free From daily contact of the things I loathe?

"Tried and convicted traitor!" Who says this? Who'll prove it, at his peril, on my head?

Banished! I thank you for 't. It breaks my chain!

I held some slack allegiance till

this hour;

But now my sword's my own. Smile on, my lords!
I scorn to count what feelings, withered hopes,
Strong provocations, bitter, burning wrongs,
I have within my heart's hot cells shut up,
To leave you in your lazy dignities.

But here I stand and scoff you! here, I fling
Hatred and full defiance in your face!
Your consul's merciful. For this, all thanks.
He dares not touch a hair of Catiline!

"Traitor!" I go; but I return. This-trial! Here I devote your Senate! I've had wrongs To stir a fever in the blood of age,

Or make the infant's sinews strong as steel.

This day's the birth of sorrow! This hour's work

Will breed proscriptions! Look to your hearths, my lords! For there, henceforth, shall sit, for household gods,

Shapes hot from Tartarus! - all shames and crimes:

Wan treachery, with his thirsty dagger drawn;

Suspicion, poisoning his brother's cup;
Naked rebellion, with the torch and axe,
Making his wild sport of your blazing thrones;
Till anarchy comes down on you like night,
And massacre seals Rome's eternal grave.

I go; but not to leap the gulf alone.
I go; but, when I come, 't will be the burst
Of ocean in the earthquake-rolling back
In swift and mountainous ruin. Fare you well;
You build my funeral-pile; but your best blood
Shall quench its flame! Back, slaves!

I will return.

[To the lictors.

TRUTH AND HONOR.

F wealth thou art wooing, or title and fame,

I shame;

There is more in the running than winning the race;
This marks thee as worthy, that brands thee as base.
Oh, then, be a man, and whatever betide,

Keep truth thy companion, and honor thy guide!

If a king, be thy kingship right royally shown,
And trust to thy subjects to shelter thy throne;
Rely not on weapons or armies of might,
But on that which endureth laws loving and right;
Though a king, be a man, and whatever betide,
Keep truth thy companion, and honor thy guide.

If a prince, or a noble, depend not on on blood-
The heart truly noble is that which is good;

If the stain of dishonor encrimson thy brow,

Thou art slave to the peasant that sweats at the plough. Be noble as men; and whatever betide,

Keep truth your companion, and honor your guide.

If a lover, be constant, confiding, and kind,
For doubting is death to the sensitive mind;

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