to that course of things which now predestinates our independence, than by yielding the points in controversy to her rebellious subjects. The former she would regard as the result of fortune; the latter she would feel as her own deep disgrace. Why, thenwhy, then, sir, do we not as soon as possible change this from a civil to a national war? And since we must fight it through, why not put ourselves in a state to enjoy all the benefits of victory, if we gain the victory?

But we

7. If we fail, it can be no worse for us. shall not fail. The cause will raise up armies; the cause will create navies. The people, the people, if we are true to them, will carry us, and will carry themselves, gloriously through this struggle. I care not how fickle other people have been found. I know the people of these Colonies, and I know that resistance to British aggression is deep and settled in their hearts, and can not be eradicated.

8. Read this Declaration at the head of the armyevery sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow uttered to maintain it, or to perish on the bed of honor. Publish it from the pulpitreligion will approve it, and the love of religious liberty will cling round it, resolved to stand with it, or fall with it. Send it to the public halls; proclaim it there; let them hear it who heard the first roar of the enemy's cannon; let them see it who saw their brothers and their sons fall on the field of Bunker Hill, and in the streets of Lexington and Concord, and the very walls will cry out in its support.

9. Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs; but I see, I see clearly through this day's business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live to

the time when this Declaration shall be made good. We may die; die colonists; die slaves; die, it may be, ignominiously, and on the scaffold. Be it so. Be it so. If it be the pleasure of Heaven that my country shall require the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready at the appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But while I do live, let me have a country, or at least the hope of a country, and that a free country.

10. But whatever may be our fate, be assured, be assured, that this Declaration will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood; but it will stand, and it will richly compensate for both. Through the thick gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the future, as the sun in heaven. We shall make this a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in our graves, our children will honor it. They will celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, with bonfires, and illuminations.

11. On its annual return, they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, not of subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I have, and all that I am, and all that I hope, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it; and I leave off as I begun, that, live or die, survive or perish, I am for the Declaration. It is my living sentiment, and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment— independence, now, and INDEPENDENCE FOREVER.

Daniel Webster.

EXERCISES IN EMPHASIS.

1. We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. 2. Why, then, should we defer the Declaration? 3. What are you, what can you be, but outlaws?

4. If the war must go on, why put off longer the Declaration of Independence?

5. Why not put ourselves in a state to enjoy all the benefits of victory, if we gain the victory?

6. If we fail, it can be no worse for us.

7. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may die; die colonists. 8. Through the thick gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the future.

9. We shall make this a glorious, an immortal day.

LV.-SONG OF THE SHIRT.

WIT

ITH fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,

A woman sat in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread-

Stitch! stitch! stitch!

In poverty, hunger, and dirt;

And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch,
She sang the "Song of the Shirt!"

2. "Work! work! work!

While the cock is crowing aloof!
And work-work-work,

Till the stars shine through the roof!
It's oh! to be a slave

Along with the barbarous Turk,
Where woman has never a soul to save,
If this is Christian work!

3. "Work-work-work!

Till the brain begins to swim!
Work-work-work

Till the eyes are heavy and dim!
Seam, and gusset, and band,
Band, and gusset, and seam-
Till over the buttons I fall asleep,
And sew them on in a dream!

4. "O men, with sisters dear!

O men, with mothers and wives!
It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives!

Stitch-stitch-stitch,

In poverty, hunger, and dirt-
Sewing at once, with a double thread,
A shroud as well as a shirt!

5. "But why do I talk of Death—
That phantom of grisly bone?
I hardly fear his terrible shape,
It seems so like my own-
It seems so like my own
Because of the fasts I keep;

O God! that bread should be so dear,
And flesh and blood so cheap!

6. "Work-work-work!

My labor never flags;

And what are its wages? A bed of straw,

A crust of bread-and rags;

That shattered roof-and this naked floor-
A table-a broken chair-

And a wall so blank my shadow I thank
For sometimes falling there!

7. "Work-work-work!

From weary chime to chime!
Work-work-work-

As prisoners work for crime!
Band, and gusset, and seam,
Seam, and gusset, and band-

Till the heart is sick and the brain benumbed,

As well as the weary hand.

8. "Work-work-work,

In the dull December light!

And work-work-work,

When the weather is warm and bright!—
While underneath the eaves

The brooding swallows cling,
As if to show me their sunny backs,
And twit me with the Spring.

9. "Oh! but to breathe the breath

Of the cowslip and primrose sweet—
With the sky above my head,
And the grass beneath my feet!
For only one short hour

To feel as I used to feel,

Before I knew the woes of want

And the walk that costs a meal!

10. "Oh! but for one short hour-
A respite however brief!

No blessed leisure for love or hope,
But only time for grief!

A little weeping would ease my heart;
But in their briny bed

My tears must stop, for every drop
Hinders needle and thread!"