which he so dearly loved, the chamber where he died, the grave in which they laid him, all habited as when "His look drew audience still as night, Or summer's noontide air," till the heavens be no more. Throughout that spacious and calm scene, all things to the eye showed at first unchanged. The books in the library, the portraits, the table at which he wrote, the scientific culture of the land, the course of agricultural occupation, the coming in of harvests, fruit of the seed his own hand had scattered, the animals and implements of husbandry, the trees planted by him in lines, in copses, in orchards, by thousands, the seat under the noble elm on which he used to sit to feel the south-west wind at evening, or hear the breathings of the sea, or the not less audible music of the starry heavens, all seemed at first unchanged. The sun of a bright day, from which, however, something of the fervors of midsummer.were wanting, fell temperately on them all, filled the air on all sides with the utterances of life, and gleamed on the long line of ocean. Some of those whom on earth he loved best, were still there. The great mind still seemed to preside; the great presence to be with you. You might expect to hear again the rich and playful tones of the voice of the old hospitality. Yet a moment more, and all the scene took on the aspect of one great monument, inscribed with his name, and sacred to his memory. And such it shall be, in all the future of America! The sensation of desolateness, and loneliness, and darkness with which you see it now, will pass away; the sharp grief of love and friendship will become soothed; men will repair thither, as they are wont to commemorate the great days of history; the same glance shall take in, and the same emotions shall greet and bless the harbor of the Pilgrims and the tomb of Webster. Ex. CCXXIV.-EDUCATION. PHILLIPS. No doubt you have all personally considered-no doubt you have all personally experienced, that of all the blessings which it has pleased Providence to allow us to cultivate, there is not one which breathes a purer fragrance, or bears a heavenlier aspect, than education. It is a companion which no misfortunes can depress, no clime destroy, no enemy alienate, no despotism enslave: at home a friend, abroad an introduction, in solitude a solace, in society an ornament: it chastens vice, it guides virtue, it gives at once a grace and government to genius. Without it, what is man? A splendid slave! a reasoning savage, vacillating between the dignity of an intelligence derived from God, and the degradation of passions participated with brutes; and in the accident of their alternate ascendency shuddering at the terrors of an hereafter, or embracing the horrid hope of annihilation. What is this wondrous world of his residence? “A mighty maze, and all without a plan;" a dark and desolate and dreary cavern, without wealth, or ornament, or order. But light up within it the torch of knowledge, and how wondrous the transition! The seasons change, the atmosphere breathes, the landscape lives, earth unfolds its fruits, ocean rolls in its magnificence, the heavens display their constellated canopy, and the grand animated spectacle of nature rises revealed before him, its varieties regulated, and its mysteries resolved! The phenomena which bewilder, the prejudices which debase, the superstitions which enslave, vanish before education. Like the holy symbol which blazed upon the cloud before the hesitating Constantine, if man follow but its precepts, purely, it will not only lead him to the victories of this world, but open the very portals of Omnipotence for his admission. Cast your eye over the monumental map of ancient grandeur, once studded with the stars of empire and the splendors of philosophy. What erected the little state of Athens into a powerful commonwealth, placing in her hand the scepter of legislation, and wreathing round her brow the imperishable chaplet of literary fame? what extended Rome, the haunt of banditti, into universal empire? what animated Sparta with that high, unbending, adamantine courage, which conquered nature herself, and has fixed her in the sight of future ages, a model of public virtue, and a proverb of national independence? What but those wise public institutions which strengthened their minds with early application, informed their infancy with the principles of action, and sent them into the world, too vigilant to be deceived by its calms, and too vigorous to be shaken by its whirlwinds? 66 Ex. CCXXV.—A POET'S MISERIES. "Ah, here it is! I'm famous now; It really is in print.-Ye gods! And gentle Anna! what a thrill To read these ardent lines, and know To whom they are addressed. "Why, bless my soul! here's something wrong, What can the paper mean, By talking of the graceful brooks,' That 'gander o'er the green ?' And here's a t instead of r, Which makes it 'tippling rill;' We'll seek the 'shad,' instead of 'shade,' And 'hell' instead of 'hill." "Thy looks so '- -what? -I recollect; Was ever such provoking work? That any thing is rendered blind "Thou hast no tears,' the t's left out, ANON "The color of the 'rose' is 'nose;" (I wonder if the likeness holds That such a trifling thing could change "Thou art the same,' is rendered lame; It really is too bad! And here, because an i is out, My lovely maid' is mad. They drove her blind by poking in An i-a process new― And now they've gouged it out again, "I'll read no more.-What shall I do? I wish my poem had been burnt, "Let's stop and recapitulate: I've 'dammed' her eyes, that's plain; I've told her she's a lunatic, And 'blind,' and 'dead,' and 'lame.' Was ever such a horrid hash, In poetry or prose? I've said she was a 'fiend,' And praised the color of her 'nose.' "I wish I had that printer here, I'd bang him to his heart's content, I'd jam his body, eyes and bones, And spell it with a d, And send him to that hill of his That he spells with an e." Ex. CCXXVI-THE DISHONEST POLITICIAN. H. W. BEECHER. IF there be a man on earth whose character should be framed of the most sterling honesty, and whose conduct should conform to the most scrupulous morality, it is the man who administers public affairs. The most romantic notions of integrity are here not extravagant. As, under our institutions, public men will be, upon the whole, fair exponents of the character of their constituents, the plainest way to secure honest public men is to inspire those who make them with a right understanding of what political character ought to be. The lowest of politicians is that man who seeks to gratify an invariable selfishness by pretending to seek the public good. For a profitable popularity, he accommodates himself to all opinions, to all dispositions, to every side, and to each prejudice. He is a mirror, with no face of its own, but a smooth surface from which each man of ten thousand may see himself reflected. He glides from man to man, coinciding with their views, pretending their feelings, simulating their tastes; with this one, he hates a man; with that one, he loves the same man; he favors a law, and he dislikes it; he approves, and opposes; he is on both sides at once, and seemingly wishes that he could be on one side more than both sides. He has associated his ambition, his interests, and his affections, with a party. He prefers, doubtless, that his side should be victorious by the best means, and under the championship of good men; but rather than lose the victory, he will consent to any means, and follow any man. Thus, with a general desire to be upright, the exigency of his party constantly pushes him to dishonorable deeds. He gradually adopts two characters, a personal and a political character. All the requisitions of his conscience he obeys in his private character; all the requisitions of his party he obeys in his political conduct. In one character he is a man of principle; in the other, a man of mere expedients. As a man, he means to be veracious, honest, moral; as a politician, he is deceitful, cunning, unscrupulous,-any thing for party. As a man, he abhors the slimy demagogue; as a politician, he employs him as a scavenger. As a man, he shrinks from the flagitiousness of slander; as a politician, he permits it, smiles upon it in others, rejoices in the success gained by it. As a |