living, youthful heart of the republic. Our empire enlarges. The castles of enemies fall before our advancing armies; the gates of cities open to receive them. The continent and its islands seem ready to fall within our grasp, and more than even fabulous wealth opens under our feet. No public virtue can withstand, none ever encountered, such seductions as these. Our own virtue and moderation must be renewed and fortified under circumstances so new and peculiar.

Where shall we seek the influence adequate to a task so arduous as this? Shall we invoke the press and the desk? They only reflect the actual condition of the public morals, and can not change them. Shall we resort to the executive authority? The time has passed when it could compose and modify the political elements around it. Shall we go to the senate? Conspiracies, seditions, and corruptions, in all free countries, have begun there. Where, then, shall we go, to find an agency that can uphold and renovate declining public virtue? Where should we go, but there, where all republican virtue begins and must end-where the Promethean fire is ever to be rekindled, until it shall finally expirewhere motives are formed and passions disciplined? To the domestic fireside and humble school, where the American citizen is trained.

Ex. XXXII.-CASA BIANCA.

THE boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck,
Shone round him o'er the dead.

Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;-

A creature of heroic blood,

A proud, though childlike form.

MRS. HEMANS.

The flames rolled on-he would not go
Without his father's word;-

That father, faint in death, below,
His voice no longer heard.

He called aloud, "Say, father, say
If yet my task is done!"—
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.

"Speak, father!" once again he cried,
"If I may yet be gone!"—
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames rolled on.

Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,

And looked from that lone post of death,

In still, yet brave despair.

And shouted but once more aloud,

66

'My father! must I stay ?"

While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud,

The wreathing fires made way.

They wrapped the ship in splendor wild;

They caught the flag on high,

And streamed above the gallant child,

Like banners in the sky.

There came a burst of thunder sound ;-
The boy-oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds, that far around
With fragments strewed the sea,-

With mast and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
But the noblest thing that perished there
Was that young, faithful heart.

Ex. XXXIII.-LOVE AND MURDER.

IN Manchester a maiden dwelt,

ANON.

Her name was Phoebe Brown;

Her cheeks were red, her hair was black,

And she was considered by good judges to be by

all odds the best looking girl in town.

Her age was nearly seventeen,

Her eyes were sparkling bright;

A very lovely girl she was,

And for about a year and a half there had been a young man paying his attention to her, by the name of Reuben Wright.

Now Reuben was a nice young man

As

any

in the town,

And Phoebe loved him very dear,

But, on account of his being obliged to work for

a living, he never could make himself agreeable to old Mr. and Mrs. Brown.

Her parents were resolved

Another she should wed,

A rich old miser in the place,

And old Brown frequently declared, that rather than have his daughter marry Reuben Wright, he'd sooner knock him in the head.

But Phoebe's heart was brave and strong,

She feared not her parent's frowns;

And as for Reuben Wright so bold,

I've heard him say more than fifty times that,

(with the exception of Phoebe) he did n't care a cent for the whole race of Browns.

So Phoebe Brown and Reuben Wright
Determined they would marry;

Three weeks ago last Tuesday night,

They started for old Parson Webster's, determined

to be united in the holy bonds of matrimony, though it was tremendous dark, and rained like the old Harry.

But Captain Brown was wide awake,

He loaded up his gun,

And then pursued the loving pair;

He overtook 'em when they'd got about half way

to the Parson's, and then Reuben and Phœbe started off upon

the run.

Old Brown then took a deadly aim
Toward young Reuben's head,

But, oh! it was a bleeding shame,

He made a mistake, and shot his only daughter,

and had the unspeakable anguish of seeing her drop right down stone dead.

Then anguish filled young Reuben's heart,
And vengeance crazed his brain,

He drew an awful jack-knife out,

And plunged it into old Brown about fifty or sixty

times, so that it's very doubtful about his ever coming to again.

The briny drops from Reuben's eyes

In torrents pouréd down,

And in this melancholy and heart-rending manner terminates the history of Reuben and Phoebe, and likewise old Captain Brown.

Ex. XXXIV.-LOCHIN VAR.

O, YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the west,-
Through all the wide border his steed was the best ;
And save his good broadsword he weapon had none,—
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone,
He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,

The bride had consented, the gallant came late :
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So boldly he entered the Netherby hall,

SCOTT.

'Mong bridesmen and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:
Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,-
(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,)
"O, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar ?”

"I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied:
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide,
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine :—
There be maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young
Lochinvar !"

The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up,
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup :
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,—
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,—
"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.

So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace;

While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume,
And the bride-maidens whispered, "T were better, by far,
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar !"

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,

When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood

near,

So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,

So light to the saddle before her he sprung:

"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" quoth young Lochinvar.

There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan;
Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;
There was racing, and chasing, on Cannobie Lea,

But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see!
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ?

Ex. XXXV.-MEMORY.

W. G. CLARK.

'Tis sweet, to remember! I would not forego
The charm which the Past o'er the Present can throw
For all the gay visions that Fancy may weave
In her web of illusion, that shines to deceive.
We know not the future,-the past we have felt ;-
Its cherished enjoyments the bosom can melt;
Its raptures anew o'er our pulses may roll,
When thoughts of the morrow fall cold on the soul.