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from the slumber of ages. At every movement of the arousing spirit, some throne may be seen tottering; and you may hear the shout of some outraged, some hoping nation. Spain may yet shake from her bosom the polluting power of the Bourbon. Twice since Canova wrought the form of Washington in Italian marble, the bland and animating gale of freedom has breathed over that glorious land of Livy and Tacitus. We have almost heard the divine voice of Tully; we have almost seen the crimson steel of Brutus. The birthplace of song and eloquence, the region of arts and arms, Greece, so many ages bent to the earth with chains, is free; walks again on continent and island, erect like her own Pallas in native majesty; and she, who was the ancient teacher of all other nations, is now the lovely disciple of our own.

Would you find a country consecrated by the imperishable names of her patriots and defenders? Then look for the cradle of Sobieski and Kosciusco. Glorious Sarmatia! thou art this day, as we were, when this day, like the passover of God's own people, was set apart from every day in the Sun's whole course; and as a perpetual festival, hallowed and consecrated to freedom. The principles of our revolution, and the very name of the United States of America, seem to be inscribed in blazing gold, on the wing of every Eagle under which Poland marches to battle. Could we believe that the “spirits of the just made perfect,” might ever again in human form visit the sunshine of this lower world, how could we doubt, that our Washington is now directing the “storm of war” in another hemisphere; and leading another nation to victory and independence? In the hero of Warsaw, who has not seen a like devotedness of patriotism and a kindred skill in warfare: the sudden and silent seizure of events; the cautionary delay; the patience of endurance, and all other, the illustrious excellences of the great Fabius of our country? God of armies; shelter, we beseech thee, cover that head in the day of battle; and give, once more, give success to the cause of Washington. EXTRACT FROM PATRICK HENRY'S SPEECH BEFORE THE LEGISLA

TURE OP VIRGINIA.

MR. PRESIVENT It is patural for man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren, till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty. Are we disposed to be of the number of those, who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know no way to judge of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years, to justify those hopes, with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a spare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves, how this gracious reception of our petition comports, with those warlike preparations, which cover our waters and darken our land.

Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation-the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assiga any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains, which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument ? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject ? Nothing.

We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned--we have remonstrated—we have supplicated--we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition, to'arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne.

In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free--if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges, for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle, in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained—we must fight!-I repeat it, sir, we must fight!! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is left us.

They tell us, sir, that we are weak--Unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction. Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot ? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us.

Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations; and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilaat, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no elec

tion. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston. The wat is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come!!

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, peace, but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle! What is it that gentlemen wish? what would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God. I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death !!!

SEA FIGHT. - Sotheby.

The Angel of destruction from on high Rushed with red wing that blazed along the sky, Stalked on the wave with garment dyed in blood, And lashed the billows of the sounding flood. Death heard his voice; and, as he towered in air, Shook arrowy lightnings from his meteor hair. A wild confusion of uncertain sound, Loud shouts and shrieks of horror ring around; The groan of anguish, and the brazen roar, And the slow wave that heaved the dead on shore: And all confused came floating on the sight, Through transitory flames of lurid light; Saye where, aloft, ’mid either navy raised, Towered a vast wreck, that far o'er ocean blazed; Likę Etna, pouring from the sea-girt height, A fiery torrent through the storm of night. There frenzy's thrilling outcry smote the ear, And visions flashed that struck the brave with fear. Through the torn decks, rent sides, and shivered sails, As rushed the expanding flame before the gales, Pale swarms were seen, that dashed in wild dismay Through bursting fires, that closed around their way: Some on the masts and blazing cordage hung, Or headlong plunged the crowded waves among;

And on the pile of dying and of dead,
Gashed with wide wounds, the unyielding chieftain bled!
Now seen, and now no more! 'Mid globes of fire,
That burst around, and blazed above the pyre,
Death waved his torch and fired the imprisoned blast,
High in mid air the shivered fabric cast,
And rode upon the storm, and shouted as it passed!

DOUGLAS TO LORD RANDOLPH.-Homie.

My name is Norval: on the Grampian hills
My father feeds his flock;a frugali swain,
Whose constant cares were to increase his store
And keep his only son, myself, at home.
For I had heard of battles, and I longed
To follow to the field some warlike lord:
And Heaven soon granted what my sire denied.
This Moon, which rose last night, round as my shield,
Had not yet filled her horns, when, by her light,
A band of fierce barbarians from the hills,
Rushed like a torrent down upon the vale,
Sweeping our flocks and herds. The shepherds fted
For safety and for succour I alone,
With bended bow and quiver full of arrows;
Hovered about the enemy, and marked
The road he took; then hasted to my friends;
Whom, with a troop of fifty chosen men,
I met advancing. The pursuit I led
Till we o’ertook the spoil-encumbered foe:
We fought and conquered. Ere a sword was drawn,
An arrow from my bow had pierced their chief,
Who wore that day the arms which now I wear.
Returning home in triumph, I disdained
The shepherd's slothful life; and having heard,
That our good King had summoned his bold peers
To lead their warriors to the Carron side,
I left my father's house, and took with me
A chosen servant to conduct my steps,
Yon trembling coward, who forsook his master.
Journeying with this intent, I passed these towers;
And, heaven-directed, came this day to do
The happy deed, that gilds my humble name.

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