READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 618. LIBERTY AND UNION. I profess, sir, in my career hitherto, to have kept steadily in view, the prosperity, and honor of the whole country, and the preservation of our federal union. It is to that union, we owe our safety at home, and our consideration and dignity abroad. It is to that union, that we are chiefly indebted, for whatever makes us most proud of our country. That union we reached, only by the discipline of our virtues, in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin, in the necessities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under its benign influences, these great interests immediately awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility, and its blessings; and although our territory has stretched out, wider and wider, and our population spread farther and farther, they have not outrun its protection, or its benefits. It has been to us all, a copious fountain of national, social, and personal happiness. I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the union, to see what might lie hidden in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds, that unite us together, shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, with my short sight, can fathom-the depth-of the abyss-below; nor could I regard him, as a safe counsellor in the affairs of this government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how the union should be preserved, but, how tolerable might be the condition of the people, when it shall be broken up, and destroyed. While the union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us, and our children. Beyond that, I seek not to penetrate the vail. God grant, that, in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant, that on my vision, never may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last tune, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken, and dishonored fragments of a once glorious union; on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land, rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather, behold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known, and honored, throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies-streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased, or polluted, nor a single star obscured-bearing for its motto, no such miserable interrogatory as-What is all this worth? Nor those other words of delusion and folly-Liberty-first, and union-afterwards but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea, and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other gentiment, dear to every-true-American heart-Liberty and union, now, and forever, one-and inseparable!-Webster. Seems like a canopy, which Love hath spread. Ah! whence yon glare The gray morn [smoke, Dawns on the mournful scene; the sulphurous 2 020. GOODNESS OF GOD. The light of nature, the works of creation, the general consent of nations, in harmony with divine revelation, attest the being, the perfections, and the providence of God. Whatever cause we have, to lament the frequent inconsistency of human conduct, with this belief, yet an avowed atheist is a monster, that rarely makes his appearance. God's government of the affairs of the universe, an acknowledgment of his active, superintending providence, over that portion of it, which constitutes the globe we inhabit, is rejected, at least theoretically, by very few. That a superior, invisible power, is continually employed in managing and controlling by secret, imperceptible, irresistible means, all the transactions of the world, is so often manifested in the disappointment, as well as in the success of our plans, that blind and depraved must our minds be, to deny, what every day's transactions so fully prove. The excellence of the divine character, especially in the exercise of that goodness towards his creatures, which is seen in the dispensation of their daily benefits, and in overruling occurring events, to the increase of their happiness, is equally obvious. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. How dear to this heart-are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection-presents them to view! The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood, And every loved spot, which my infancy knew; The wide-spreading pond, and the mill which stood by it The bridge, and the rock, where the cataract fell; The cot of my father, the dairy house-nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket, which hung in the well! The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well. That moss-covered vessel-I hail as a treasure; For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest, and sweetest, that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing And quick-to the white-pebbled bottom it fell; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well; The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket-arose from the well. How sweet-from the green-mossy brim-to receive it, As poised on the curb-it inclined to my lips! Not a full blushing goblet-could tempt me to leave it, Though Alled with the nectar, that Jupiter sips. And now, far removed-from the lov'd situation, The tear of regret will intrusively swell, As fancy-reverts to my father's plantation, And sighs for the bucket, which hangs in the well; The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moer-covered bucket, which hangs in the well. Do we desire evidence of these things? Who is without them, in the experience of his own life? Who has not reason, to thank God for the success, which has attended his 621. RIGHT OF FREE DISCUSSION. Im. exertions in the world? Who has not reason portant, as I deem it, to discuss, on all prop to thank him, for defeating plans, the accom-er occasions, the policy of the measures, at plishment of which, it has been afterwards seen, would have resulted in injury, or ruin? Who has not cause, to present him the unaffected homage of a grateful heart, for the consequences of events, apparently the most unpropitious, and for his unquestionable kind. ness, in the daily supply of needful mercies! PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. Why muse Upon the past, with sorrow? Though the year Has gone, to blend with the mysterious tide Of old Eternity, and borne along, Upon its heaving breast, a thousand wrecks Of glory, and of beauty,-yet why mourn, That such is destiny? Another year Succeedeth to the past.-in their bright round, The seasons come, and go,-the same blue arch, That hath hung o'er us, will hang o'er us yet,The same pure stars, that we have loved to watch, Will blossom still, at twilight's gentle hour, Like lilies, on the tomb of Day,—and still, Man will remain, to dream, as he hath dreamed, And mark the earth with passion. Love will spring From the tomb of old Affections,-Hope, present pursued, it is still more important to maintain the right of such discussion, in its full, and just extent. Sentiments, lately sprung up, and now growing fashionable, make it necessary to be explicit on this point. The more I perceive a disposition-to check the freedom of inquiry, by extravagant, and unconstitutional pretences, the firmer shall be the tone, in which I shall assert, and the freer the manner, in which I shall exercise it. It is the ancient and undoubted preroga tive of this people-to canvass public meas ures, and the merits of public men. It is a "home bred right," a fireside privilege. It hath ever been enjoyed in every house, cottage, and cabin, in the nation. It is not to be drawn into controversy. It is as undoubted, as the right of breathing the air, or walking on the earth. Belonging to private life, as a right, it belongs to public life, as a duty; and it is the last duty which those, whose repre sentative I am, shall find me to abandon. Aiming, at all times, to be courteous, and temperate in its use, except, when the right it to its extent. I shall place myself on the itself shall be questioned, shall then carry extreme boundary of my right, and bid defiance to any arm, that would move me from my ground. This high, constitutional privilege, I shall defend, and exercise, within this house, and without this house, and in all places; in time of peace, and in all times. Living, I shall assert it; and, should I leave no other inheri tance to my children, by the blessing of God, Of heaven were prisoned in its soundless depths, I will leave them the inheritance of free prin And struggling to be free. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, What is fame? A fancy'd life in others' breath. ciples, and the example of a manly, independent, and constitutional defence of them. Grasp the whole world of reason, life, and sense, In one close system of benevolence; Happier, as kindlier, in whate'er degree, A height of bliss-is height of charity. READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 622. PEACE AND WAR CONTRASTED. mental rule of the first is-to do good; of the The rules of morality-will not suffer us to The natural consequence of their prevaence is an unfeeling, and unprincipled ambition, with an idolatry of talents, and a contempt of virtue; whence the esteem of mankind is turned from the humble, the beneficent, and the good, to men who are qualified, by a genius, fertile in expedients, a courage, that is never appalled, and a heart, that never pities, to become the destroyers of the earth. While the philanthropist is devising means to mitigate the evils, and augment the happiness of the world, a fellow-worker together with God, in exploring, and giving effect to the benevolent tendencies of nature; the warrior-is revolving, in the gloomy recesses of his capacious mind, plans of future devastation and ruin. Prisons, crowded with captives; cities, emptied of their inhabitants; fields, desolate and waste, are among his proudest trophies. The fabric of is fame is cemented with tears and blood; and if his name is wafted to the ends of the earth, it is in the shrill cry of suffering humanity; in the curses and imprecations of those whom his sword has reduced to despair. 623. IMMORTAL MIND. When coldness-wraps this suffering clay, But leaves its darkened dust behind. By steps, each planet's heavenly way? A thing of eyes, that all survey? A thought unseen, but seeing all, Its eye shall roll-through chaos back; Above all love, hope. hate, or fear, Away, away, without a wing, O'er all, through all, its thoughts shall fly; Forgetting-what it was to die.-Byron. Dark is the night! How dark! No light! No fire! Oh, God! protect my child!" The clock strikes three, On the cold earth, outstretched in solemn rest, The babe lay, frozen on its mother's breast: The gambler came at last-but all was o'er Dread silence reign'd around:-the clock struck four!-Cout Goodness is only greatness in itself, It rests not on externals, nor its worth Derives-from gorgeous pomp, or glittering pelf Or chance of arms, or accident of birth; It lays its foundations in the soul, And piles a tower of virtue to the skies, 625. DARKNESS. I had a dream, which was not all a dream. And, terrified, did flutter on the ground, [hands, Even of their mutual Aideousness they died, The moon, their mistress, had expired before; 626. TRUE PLEASURE DEFINED. We are affected with delightful sensations, when we see the inanimate parts of the creation, the meadows, flowers, and trees, in a flour. ishing state. There must be some rooted melancholy at the heart, when all nature ap. pears smiling about us, to hinder us from corresponding with the rest of the creation, and joining in the universal chorus of joy. But if meadows and trees, in their cheerful verdure, if flowers, in their bloom, and all the vegetable parts of the creation, in their most advantageous dress, can inspire gladness intc the heart, and drive away all sadness but despair; to see the rational creation happy, and flourishing, ought to give us a pleasure as much superior, as the latter is to the former, in the scale of being. But the pleasure is still heightened, if we ourselves have been instrumental, in contributing to the happiness raise a heart, drooping beneath the weight of of our fellow-creatures, if we have helped to grief, and revived that barren and dry land, where no water was, with refreshing showers of love and kindness. THE WILDERNESS OF MIND. Than groves of fir-on Huron's shore ; Of India's tiger-haunted wood; But constant, he were perfect; that one error- sins; Two honest tradesmen-meeting in the Strand, 627. GENIUS. The favorite idea of a ge- | thus unsought, unpremeditated, unprepar'd." nius among us, is of one, who never studies, But the truth is, there is no more a miracle in or who studies nobody can tell when; at mid- it, than there is in the towering of the prenight, or at odd times, and intervals, and now eminent forest-tree, or in the flowing of the and then strikes out, "at a heat," as the phrase mighty, and irresistible river, or in the wealth, is, some wonderful production. This is a and waving of the boundless harvest.-Dewey. character that has figured largely in the his628. THE THREE BLACK CROWS. tory of our literature, in the person of our Fieldings, our Savages, and our Steeles; "loose fellows about town, or loungers in the country," who slept in ale-houses, and wrote in bar-rooms; who took up the pen as a magician's wand, to supply their wants, and, when the pressure of necessity was relieved, resorted again to their carousals. Your real genius is an idle, irregular, vagabond sort of personage; who muses in the fields, or dreams by the fireside: whose strong impulses-that is the cant of it-must needs hurry him into wild irregularities, or foolish eccentricity; who abhors order, and can bear no restraint, and eschews all iabor; such a one as Newton or Milton! What! they must have been irregular, else they were no geniuses. "The young man," it is often said, "has genius enough, if he would only study." Now, the truth is, as I shall take the liberty to state it, that the genius will study; it is that in the mind which does study: that is the very nature of it. I care not to say, that it will always use books. All study is not reading, any more than all reading is study. Replied his friend.-"No! I'm surprised at th [fact, and so forth-"Why, yes; the thing's a Though, in regard to number, not exact; It was not two black crows, 'twas only one; The truth of that, you may depend upon, The gentleman himself told me the case. [place "Where may I find him?" "Why, in such a Away he goes, and, having found him out,— Attention it is, though other qualities belong to this transcendent power,-attention it is, that is the very soul of genius; not the fixed eye, not the poring over a book, but the fixed thought. It is, in fact, an action of the mind, which is steadily concentrated upon one idea, or one series of ideas, which collects, in one point, the rays of the soul, till they search, penetrate and fire the whole train of its thoughts. And while the fire burns within, "Sir, be so good as to resolve a doubt." the outside may be indeed cold, indifferent, Then, to his last informant, he referred, negligent, absent in appearance; he may be And begged to know if true, what he had heard an idler, or a wanderer, apparently without "Did you, sir, throw up a black crow?" "Not I!" aim, or intent; but still the fire burns within. "Bless me! how people propagate a lie! And what though "it bursts forth," at length, Black crows have been thrown up, three, two, and [one, as has been said, "like volcanic fires, with And here I find, at last, all comes to none! spontaneous, original, native force?" It only shows the intense action of the elements be- Did you say nothing of a crow at all?" neath. What though it breaks forth-like "Crow-crow-perhaps I might, now I recall lightning from the cloud? The electric fire The matter over." "And pray, sir, what was 't?" had been collecting in the firmament, through" Why, I was horrid sick, and, at the last, many a silent, clear, and calm day. What I did throw up, and told my neighbor so, though the might of genius appears in one decisive blow, struck in some moment of high Something that was as black, sir, as a crow." debate, or at the crisis of a nation's peril! diffuse useful information, to farther intellec THE HIGHEST OCCUPATION OF GENIUS. To That mighty energy, though it may have tual refinement, sure forerunners of moral im heaved in the breast of Demosthenes, was provement, to hasten the coming of that bright once a feeble infant thought. A mother's eye day, when the dawn of general knowledge watched over its dawnings. A father's care shall chase away the lazy, lingering mists, guarded its early youth. It soon trod, with youthful steps, the halls of learning, and even from the base of the great social pyramid; found other fathers to wake, and to watch for this, indeed, is a high calling, in which the most it, even as it finds them here. It went on; well press onward, eager to bear a part. splendid talents and consummate virtue may but silence was upon its path, and the deep strugglings of the inward soul silently ministered to it. The elements around breathed upon it, and "touched it to finer issues." The golden ray of heaven fell upon it, and ripened its expanding faculties. The slow revolutions of years slowly added to its collected energies and treasures; till, in its hour of glory, it stood forth imbodied in the form of living, commanding, irresistible eloquence. The world wonders at the manifestation, and says," Stange, strange that it should come How soon-time-flies away! yet, as I watch it, |