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and massacre, which every honest man must detest, which every good man must abhor, and every wise man condemn! And this man imputes the guilt of such measures to those who had all along foretold the consequences; who had prayed, entreated, and supplicated, not only for America, but for the credit of the nation and its eventual welfare, to arrest the hand of Power, meditating slaughter, and directed by injustice!

4. What was the consequence of the sanguinary measures recommended in those bloody, inflammatory speeches? Though Boston was to be starved, though Hancock and Adams were proscribed, yet at the feet of these very men the Parliament of Great Britain was obliged to kneel, flatter, and cringe; and, as it had the cruelty, at one time, to denounce vengeance against these men, so it had the meanness, afterward, to implore their forgiveness. Shall he who called the Americans “Hancock and his crew," — shall he presume to reprehend any set of men for inflammatory speeches ?

5. It is this accursed American war that has led us, step by step, into all our present misfortunes and nătional disgraces. What was the cause of our wasting forty millions of money, and sixty thousand lives? The American war! What was it that produced the French rescript and a French war? The American war! What was it that produced the Spanish manifesto and Spanish war? The American war! What was it that armed forty-two thousand men in Ireland with the arguments carried on the points of forty thousand bayonets? The American war! For what are we about to incur an additional debt of twelve or fourteen millions ? This accursed, cruel, diabolical Amerian war! CHARLES JAMES Fox. (1749–1806.)

CXIX. — BATTLE HYMN, AND FAREWELL TO LIFE.

Low'ER (lou'er), v. i., to appear dark. SE'RAPH-IC (se-raf'ic), a., pertaining Guise, n., garb; manner.

I to or like a seraph. Theodore Korner, the martial poet of Germany, and author of the following poems, was born in the year 1791, and fell in battle August 25, 1813, when scarcely twenty-two years old.

Father of earth and heaven! I call thy name!

Round me the smoke and shout of battle roll; My eyes are dazzled with the rustling flame ;

Father, sustain an untried soldier's soul.

Or life, or death, whatever be the goal
That crowns or closes round the struggling hour,

Thou knowest, if ever from my spirit stole
One deeper prayer, 't was that no cloud might lower
On my young fame! — O hear! God of eternal power!
Now for the fight! Now for the cannon-peal!

Forward — through blood, and toil, and cloud, and fire! Glorious the shout, the shock, the crash of steel,

The volley's roll, the rocket's blasting spire !

They shake! like broken waves their squares retire ! On them, hussars ! Now give them rein and heel ;

Think of the orphaned child, the murdered sire: Earth cries for blood! In thunder on them wheel ! This hour to Europe's fate shall set the triumph-seal !

My deep wound burns; my pale lips quake in death,

I feel my fainting heart resign its strife ;

And, reaching now the limit of my life,
Lord, to thy will I yield niy parting breath!
Yet many a dream hath charmed my youthful eye,
And must life's fairy visions all depart ?

0, surely no! for all that fired my heart
To rapture here, shall live with me on high.
And that fair form that won my earliest vow,

That my young spirit prized all else above,
And now adored as freedom, now as love,

Stands in seraphic guise before me now;

And, as my failing senses fade away,
It beckons me on high, to realms of endless day!

KORNER.

CXX. – WATERLOO.

NICHE (nitch), n., a small recess in REV'EL-RY, n., noisy merriment. the side of a wall.

! BIER, n., a carriage for the dead. On the night previous to the battle of Waterloo, it is said that a ball was given at Brus sels. To this the poet alludes in the introductory stanza. The battle was fought June 18, 1815, when the allied army, composed of 67,655 men, commanded by the Duke of Wellington, defeated the French army, of 71,947 men, commanded by Napoleon in person.

There was a sound of revelry by night,

And Belgium's capital had gathered then
Her beauty and her chivalry ; and bright

The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men :

A thousand hearts beat happily; and when :
Music arose, with its voluptuous swell,

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again;
And all went merry as a marriage-bell.
But, hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!

Did ye not hear it? No; 't was but the wind,

Or the car rattling o'er the stony street. ..On with the dance! let joy be unconfined !

No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet

To chase the glowing hours with flying feet! But, hark! that heavy sound breaks in once more,

As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before. Arm! arm ! it is, it is the cannon's opening roar! .

Within a windowed niche of that high hall

Sat Brunswick's fated chieftain ;* he did hear

* Frederick William, Duke of Brunswick, and brother of Queen Caroline. He distinguished himself in the Peninsular war. He was killed at the head of his troops two days before the battle of Waterloo. He was born in 1771.

That sound the first amid the festival,

And caught its tone with death's prophetic ear:

And when they smiled, because he deemed it near, His heart more truly knew that peal too well,

Which stretched his father on a bloody bier,
And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell:
He rushed into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell !

Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,

And găthering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago

Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness ;

And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs

Which ne'er might be repeated ;—who could gues If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise !

And there was mounting in hot haste : the steed,

The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,

And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;

And the deep thunder, peal on peal, afar, And near, the beat of the alarming drum

Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens, with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips, “The foel they comel they

come!”

Last noon beheld them full of lusty life ;

Last eve, in beauty's circle, proudly gay;
The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife ;

The morn, the marshaling in arms — the day,

Battle's magnificently stern array !
The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which, when rent,

The earth is covered thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent,
Rider and horse, friend, foe, in one red burial blent.

BYRON.

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1. War may be defined as a people's expedient for accomplishing a purpose by violence. It is expressly 50; and all the ingenuity in the world would fail to make it out as any thing else. What a strange ideä ! A man who would seek to assert a right, or even to defend himself from wrong, by violence, that is, by taking arms, and wounding or killing those opposed to him, — would be regarded as an intolerable barbarian. The laws of his country would hold him as guilty of a capital offense, and he would suffer the severest penalty they were empowered to inflict.

2. But when a collection of men, forming what is called a nation, have a right to be asserted, or a wrong to be redressed, or perhaps only an opinion to be advanced, it is thought quite fair and reasonable that they should use these violent and murderous means. What is forbidden to individuals in every state above the most savage, and hardly tolerated even there, is freely granted to civilized nations, which, accordingly, are every now and then seen falling into bloody fights about matters which, with private men, would be set. tled by a friendly arbitration, or, at most, a decision in a law court.

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