are unholy, baleful, deadly, while a prostitute majority holds the bolt of parliamentary power and hurls its vengeance only upon the virtuous. To yourselves, therefore, I consign you. Enjoy your pandemonium!

FOLLY OF DISUNION GASTON.

Threats of resistance, secession, separation, have become common as household words in the wicked and silly violence of public declaimers. The public ear is familiarized, and the public mind will soon be accustomed, to the detestable suggestions of disunion.

Calculations and conjectures, what may the East do without the South, and what may the South do without the East; sneers, menaces, reproaches, and recriminations, all tend to the same fatal end. What can the East do without the South? What can the South do without the East?

They may do much; they may exhibit to the curiosity of political anatomists, and the pity and wonder of the world, the "disjecta membra," the sundered and bleeding limbs of a once gigantic body instinct with life and strength and vigor. They can furnish to the philosophic historian another melancholy and striking instance of the political axiom, that all republican confederacies have an inherent and unavoidable tendency to dissolution.

They will present fields and occasions for border wars, for leagues and counter-leagues, for the intrigues of petty statesmen, the struggles of military

chiefs, for confiscations, insurrections, and deeds of darkest hue. They will gladden the hearts of those who have proclaimed that men are not fit to govern themselves, and shed a disastrous eclipse on the hopes of rational freedom throughout the world.

Solon in his code proposed no punishment for parricide, treating it as an impossible crime. Such with us ought to be the crime of political parricide, -the dismemberment of our "fatherland."

SEMPRONIUS' SPEECH FOR WAR

-ADDISON.

My voice is still for war!

Gods! Can a Roman senate long debate,
Which of the two to choose, slavery or death?
No! Let us rise at once, gird on our swords,
And, at the head of our remaining troops,
Attack the foe, break through the thick array
Of his thronged legions, and charge home upon him.

Perhaps some arm more lucky than the rest May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.

Rise, fathers, rise! 'Tis Rome demands your help. Rise, and revenge her slaughtered citizens,

Or share their fate! The corpse of half her Senate Manure the fields of Thessaly, while we

Sit here, deliberating in cold debates,

If we should sacrifice our lives to honor,
Or wear them out in servitude and chains.

Rouse up, for shame! Our brothers of Pharsalia Point out their wounds, and cry aloud, "To battle!"

Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow, And Scipio's ghost walks unrevenged among us.

TELEMACHUS TO THE ALLIED CHIEFS

-FENELON.

Fellow-soldiers and confederated chiefs! I grant you, if ever man deserved to have the weapon of stratagem and deceit turned against him, it is he who has used it himself so often, the faithless Adrastus. But shall it be said that we, who have united to punish the perfidy of this man, that we are ourselves perfidious? Shall fraud be counteracted by fraud? If we can adopt the practices of Adrastus without guilt, Adrastus himself is innocent, and our present attempt to punish him is unwarrantable. You have sworn, by all that is most sacred, to leave Venusium a deposit in the hands of the Lucanians. The Lucanian garrison, you say, is corrupted by Adrastus. I do not doubt it. But this garrison is still Lucanian. It receives the pay of the Lucanians, and has not yet refused to obey them. It has preserved, at least, an appearance of neutrality. Neither Adrastus nor his people have yet entered it. The treaty is still subsisting: and the gods have not forgotten your oath.

Is a promise never to be kept but when a plausible pretence to break it is wanting? Shall an oath be sacred only when nothing is to be gained by its violation? If you are insensible to the love of virtue and the fear of the gods, have you no regard to your interest and reputation? If, to terminate a

war, you violate your oath, how many wars will this impious conduct excite? Who will hereafter trust you? What security can you ever give for your good faith? A solemn treaty? You have trampled one under foot. An oath? You have committed perjury when perjury was profitable, and have defied the gods. In peace you will be regarded as treacherously preparing for war. Every affair, based on a confidence in your probity, will become impracticable. Your promises will not be believed. Nay, the very league which now constitutes your strength will lose its cohesive principle. Your perjury will be the triumph of Adrastus. He will not need to attack you himself. Your own dissensions, your own mistrusts, your own duplicity, will be your ruin.

Ye mighty chiefs, renowned for magnanimity and wisdom, experienced and brave, governing uncounted thousands, despise not the counsel of a youth! To whatever extremity war may reduce you, let your resources be diligence and virtue. True fortitude can never despair. But, if you once pass the barrier of honor and integrity, the ruin of your cause is irreparable. You can neither reestablish that confidence without which no affair of importance can succeed, nor can you bring men back to the reverence of that virtue which you have taught them to despise. What have you to fear? Is not your courage equal to victory without the aid of fraud? Your own power joined to that of the many under your command, is it not sufficient? Let us fight, let us die, if we must, but let us not conquer unworthily! Adrastus, the impious Adrastus, is in our power, provided-provided we disdain to imi

tate the cowardice and treachery which have sealed his ruin.

TITUS QUINTIUS TO THE PEOPLE-LIVY.

Though I am conscious of no fault, O Romans, it is yet with the utmost shame I have come forward to your Assembly. You have seen it, posterity will know it, that in my fourth consulate the Equans and Volscians came in arms to the very gates of Rome, and went away unchastised. Had I foreseen that such an ignominy had been reserved for my official year, that Rome might have been taken while I was Consul,-I would have shunned the office either by exile or by death. Yes; I have had honors enough, of life more than enough. I should have died in my third consulate. Whom did these most dastardly enemies despise, us Consuls, or you citizens? If we are in fault, depose us, punish us as we deserve. If you, Romans, are to blame, may neither gods nor men make you suffer for your offences! Only may you repent! No, Romans, the confidence of our enemies is not from a belief in their own courage or in your cowardice. They have been too often vanquished, not to know both themselves and you. Discord, discord amongst ourselves, is the ruin of this city. The eternal disputes between the Senate and the people are the sole cause of our misfortunes.

In the name of heaven, what is it, Romans, you would have? You desired Tribunes of the commons. For the sake of concord, we granted Tribunes. You were eager to have Decemvirs. We suffered them