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That lifts his streaming mane; the heifer lows;
THE LEPER. Willis.
"Room for the leper! Room!" And as he came The cry passed on-"Room for the leper! Room!"
* And aside they stood,
Day was breaking
When at the altar of the temple stood
His costly raiment for the leper's garb,
And with the sackcloth round him, and his lip
"Depart! depart, O child
Of Israel, from the temple of thy God,
From all thou lov'st away thy feet must flee, That from thy plague His people may be free.
Depart! and come not near
The busy mart, the crowded city, more;
Wet not thy burning lip
In streams that to a human dwelling glide; Nor rest thee where the covert fountains hide, Nor kneel thee down to dip
The water where the pilgrim bends to drink,
And pass not thou between
The weary traveller and the cooling breeze,
Nor milk the goat that browseth on the plain, Nor pluck the standing corn, or yellow grain,
And now depart! and when
Thy heart is heavy, and thine eyes are dim,
And he went forth-alone! not one of all
It was noon, And Helon knelt beside a stagnant pool In the lone wilderness, and bathed his brow, Hot with the burning leprosy, and touched The loathsome water to his fevered lips, Praying that he might be so blest-to die! Footsteps approached, and with no strength to flee, He drew the covering closer on his lip, Crying "Unclean! Unclean!" and in the folds Of the coarse sackcloth shrouding up his face, He fell upon the earth till they should pass. Nearer the stranger came, and bending o'er The leper's prostrate form, pronounced his name. -"Helon!"-the voice was like the master-tone Of a rich instrument-most strangely sweet; And the dull pulses of disease awoke, And for a moment beat beneath the hot And leprous scales with a restoring thrill. "Helon! arise!" and he forgot his curse, And rose and stood before him.
Love and awe
As if his heart was moved, and stooping down
And laid it on his brow, and said, "Be clean!"
Coursed with delicious coolness through his veins,
His leprosy was cleansed, and he fell down
THE FINAL TRIUMPH OF LIBERTY.-N. A. Review
IN the great Lancastrian school of the nations, liberty is the lesson, which we are appointed to teach. Masters we claim not, we wish not, to be; but the Monitors we are of this noble doctrine. It is taught in our settlement, taught in our revolution, taught in our government; and the nations of the world are resolved to learn.
It may be written in sand and effaced, but it will be written again and again, till hands, now fettered in slavery, shall boldly and fairly trace it, and lips, that now stammer at the noble word, shall sound it out in the ears of their despots, with an emphasis to waken the dead. Some will comprehend it and practise it at the first; others must wrestle long with the old slavish doctrine; and others may abuse it to excess, and cause it to be blasphemed awhile in the world. But it will still be taught, and still be repeated, and must be learned by all; by old and degenerate communities, to revive their youth; by springing colonies, to hasten their progress.
With the example before them of a free representative government-of a people governed by themselves, it is no more probable that the nations will long bear any other, than that they should voluntarily dispense with the art of printing, or the mariner's compass.
It is therefore plainly no age for Turks to be stirring. It is as much as men can do, to put up with Christian, with civilized, yes, with legitimate masters. The Grand Seignior is a half-century too late in the world. It requires all people's patience to be oppressed and ground to the dust, by the parental sway of most faithful, most catholic, most christian princes.
Fatigued as they are with the Holy Alliance, it were preposterous to suppose they can long submit to a horde of
Tartarian infidels. The idea that the most honourable, the most responsible, the most powerful office in the state, can, like a vile heir-loom, follow the chance of descent, is quite enough to task the forbearance of this bold and busy time.
What then shall become of viziers and sultans, when ministers are bewildered in their cabinets, and kings are shaken on their thrones? Instead of arming their misbelieving hosts against a people, who have taken hold of liberty, and who will be free, let them rejoice that great and little Bucharia are still vacant, and take up their march for the desert.
EDUCATION OF THE POOR.-Smith.
THE education of the poor, sifts the talents of a country, and discovers the choicest gifts of nature in the depths of solitude and in the darkness of poverty; for Providence often sets the grandest spirits in the lowest places, and gives to many a man a soul far better than his birth, compelling him to dig with a spade, who had better wielded a sceptre. Education searches everywhere for talents; sifting among the gravel for the gold, holding up every pebble to the light, and seeing whether it be the refuse of Nature, or whether the hand of art can give it brilliancy and price.
There are no bounds to the value of this sort of education. I come here to speak upon this occasion; when fourteen or fifteen youths, who have long participated of your bounty, come to return you their thanks. How do we know that there may not be, among all these, one who shall enlarge the boundaries of knowledge-who shall increase the power of his country by his enterprise in commerce-watch over its safety in the most critical times, by his vigilance as a magistrate and consult its true happiness by his integrity and his ability as a senator?
On all other things there is a sign, or a mark;—we know them immediately, or we can find them out; but man, we do not know; for one man differeth from another man, as heaven differs from earth;-and the excellence that is in him, education seeks for with vigilance and preserves with care. We might make a brilliant list of our great English characters, who have been born in cottages. May it ever increase; there can be no surer sign that we are a wise and a happy people.