and brood over in solitude'. Where is the mother who would will. ingly forget the infant'.. that perished', like a blossom', fromb her arms', though every recollection is a pâng'? Where is the child that would willingly forget the most tender of parents', though', to remember', be but to lament'? Who', even in the hour of agony', would forget the friend over whom he mourns'? Who', even when the tomb is closing upon the remains of her he most loved'; when he feels his heart', as it were', crushed in the closing of its portals', would accept of consolation that must be bought by forgetfulness'? Nô'; the love which survives the tômb', is one of the noblest attributes of the soul'.

If it has its woes', it has likewise its delights'; and when the overwhelming burst of grief'.. is calmed into the gentle tear of recollection';-when the sudden anguish and the convulsive agony over the present ruins of all that we most loved', is softened away into pensive meditation on all that it was in the days of its loveliness'-who would root out such a sorrow from the heart'? Though it may sometimes throw a passing cloud over the bright hour of gâyety'; or spread a deeper sadness over the hour of glôôm'; yet who would exchange it, even for the song of pleasure, or the burst of revelry'? Nô'; there is a voice from the tomb'.. sweeter than song'. There is a remembrance of the dead to which we turn'. . even from the charms of the living'. Oh, the grave'!—the grave'!-It buries every errour'. every defect-extinguishes every resentment!-From its peaceful bosom spring none but fond regrets and tender recollections'. Who can look down upon the grave even of an enemy', and not feel a compunctious throb', that he should ever have warred with the poor handful of earth that lies mouldering before him"?

-covers

But the grave of those we loved'—what a place for meditation'! There it is that we call up in long review the whole history of virtue and gentleness', and the thousand endearments lavished upon us almost unheeded in the daily intercourse of intimacy'; there it is that we dwell upon the tenderness', the solemn', awful tenderness', of the parting scene'-the bed of death', with all its stifled griefs'-its noiseless attendants', its mute', watchful assiduities—the last testimonies of expiring love'-the feeble', fluttering', thrilling', oh', how thrilling'!... pressure of the hand'—the last fond look of the glazing eye', turning upon us even from the threshold of existence-the faint', faltering accents', struggling in death to give one more assurance of affection'!

Ay', go to the grave of buried love', and meditate'! There

In'fant-not, in'funt. From—not, frum.

settle the account with thy conscience'. . for every past benefit unrequited-every past endearment unregarded', of that departed being who can never'.. never' ... never return to be soothed by thy contrition'! If thou art a child', and hast ever added a sorrow to the soul', or a furrow to the silvered brow', of an affectionate parent'-if thou art a husband', and hast ever caused the fond bosom that ventured its whole happiness in thy arms', to doubt one moment of thy kindness or thy truth' —if thou art a friend', and hast ever wronged', in thought', or word', or deed', the spirit that generously confided in thee'—if thou art a lover', and hast ever given one unmerited pang to that true heart which now lies cold and still beneath thy feet'; then be sure that every unkind look', every ungracious word', every ungentle action', will come thronging back upon thy memory', and knocking dolefully at thy soul'-then be sure that thou wilt lie down sorrowing and repentant on the grave', and utter the unheard groan', and pour the unavailing tear', more deep', more bitter', because'.... unheard'.. and unavailing'.

...

Then weave thy chaplet of flowers', and strew the beauties of nature about the grave'; console thy broken spirit', if thou canst, with these tender', yet futile', tributes of regret';—but take warning by the bitterness of this thy contrite affliction over the dead', and henceforth be more faithful and affectionate in the discharge of thy duties to the living'.

SECTION VIII.

Character of Bonaparte, written after his second Abdication. PHILLIPS.

THE bloody drama of Europe is concluded'; and the great tragedian', who', for twenty years, has made the earth his theatre', and set the world in tears', has left the stage forever'. He lifted the curtain with his sword', and filled the scenes with slaughter. His part was invented by himself', and was terribly unique'. Never was there so ambitious', so restless a spirit'-never so DARING', so fortunate a soldier'. His aim'. was universal dominion', and he gazed at it steadfastly', with the eye' . . of the eagle', and the appetite'.. of the vulture'. He combined within himself', all the elements of terrour',

Strò. Få'til. Trib'utes-not, trib'its. dU-neke'

nerve', malice', and intellect';- -a heart'.. that never meh f'a hand'.. that never trembled''—a mind'. . that never wavered from its purpose'. The greatness of his plans', defied speculation'; and the rapidity of their EXECUTION', outstripped prophecy'. Civilized nations were the victims of his arts'; and the savage could not withstand his warfare'. Sceptres'. . crumbled in his grasp', and liberty'. . withered in his presence'. The Almighty appeared to have intrusted to him the destinies of the globe', and he used them to destroy'. He shrouded the sun with the cloud of battle'; and unveiled the night with its fires'. His march'.. reversed the course of nature'-the flowers of the Spring'.. perished'; the fruits of Autumn'. . fell', for his track was cold', and cheerless', and desolate', like the withering', wintry blast'. Amid all the physical', political', and moral changes which he produced', he was still the same'. Always ambitious', always inexorable"-no conquests satisfied', no compassion assuaged', no remorse deterred', no dangers alarmed him'. Like the barbarians, he conquered Italy'; and, rolling back to its source the deluge that overwhelmed Rome', he proved himself the Attila of the South'. With Hannibal', he crossed the Alps in triumph'. Africa beheld him a second Scipio'; and', standing on the pyramids of Egypt', he looked down on the fame of Alexander'. He fought the Scythian in his cave'; and the unconquered Arab fled before him'. He won', divided', and ruled'.. nearly all of modern Europe'. It became a large French province', where foreign kings still reigned by courtesy', or mourned in chains'. The Roman Pontiff was his prisoner'; and he claimed dominion over the altar with the God of Hosts'. Even his NAME'.. inspired universal terrour'; and the obscurity of his designs',d rendered him awfully mysterious'. The navy of Great Britain'.. watched him with the eyes of ARGUS'; and her coast was lined with soldiers who slept on their arms'. He made war'.. before he declared it'; and peace'. . was, with him, a signal for hostilities'. His FRIENDS were the first whom he assailed'; and his ALLIES he selected to plunder'.

There was a singular opposition between his alleged motives and his conduct'. He would have enslaved the land to make the ocean free', and he wanted only power to enslave both'. If he was arrogant', his unparalleled successes must excuse him'. Who could endure the giddiness of such a mountain elevation"? Who', that amid the slaughter of millions had escaped unhurt', would not suppose', like Achilles', that a deity had lent him •Prôf'è'sè. In-êks'ò'rá-bl. Kür'tè'sè. ¿Dé-sinez'. ©Al′lize. ‘A-kîl'léze.

armour'? Who that had risen from such obscurity', overcome such mighty obstacles', vanquished so many monarchs', won such extensive empires', and enjoyed so absolute sway'-who', in the fulness of unequalled power', and in the pride of exulting ambition', would not believe himself the favourite of heaven"? He received the tribute of fear', and love', and admiration'. The weight of the chains which he imposed on France', was forgotten in their splendour':-it was glorious to follow him', even as a conscript. The arts became servile in his praise'; and genius divided with him her immortal honours': for it is mind alone that can triumph over time'-letters only yield per

manent renown'.

The blood-stained soldier adorned his throne with the trophies of art', and made Paris the seat of taste', as well as of power'. There'.. the old and the new world met and conversed'; there'.. time was then robbed of his scythe', lingering among beauties which he could not destroy'; there the heroes and sages of every age', mingled in splendid alliance', and joined in the march of fame'. They will appeal to posterity to mitigate the sentence which humanity claims against the tyrant Bonaparte'. Awful indeed will be that sentence'; but when will posterity be a disinterested tribunal'? When will the time arrive that Europe shall have put off mourning for his'. crimes'? In what distant recess of futurity'.. will the memory of Moscow'.. sleep'? When will Jena', Gerona', and Austerlitz'-when will Jaffa', Corunna', and Waterloo', be named'. without tears of anguish', and vows of retribution'? Earth can never forget'- -man can never forget'.. them'.

Let him live', if he can endure life', divested of his crown'without an army'—and', almost', without a follower'. Let him live-he who never spared his friends', if he can bear the humiliation of owing his life to an enemy'. Let him live', and listen to the voice of conscience'. He can no longer drown it in "the clamorous report of war'." No cuirasd guards his bosom from the arrows of remorse'. Now that the cares of state have ceased to distract his thoughts', let him reflect on his miserable self'; and with the map before him', retrace his bloody career'. Alas'! his life is a picture of RUIN', and the light that displays it', is the funeral torch of nations'. It exhibits one mighty sepulchre', crowded with the MANGLED victims of MURDEROUS ambition'. Let him reflect on his enormous abuse of power', on his violated faith', and shameless disregard of all law and justice'. Let him live and REPENT'-let him Sêr'vil. Trò'fiz. Diz-in'tèr'èst-êd. Kwě-rás'. Egz.hib'its.

seek to atone', in humility and solitude', for the sins of his political life—an example'.. of the CATASTROPHE'. . of wicked', and the VANITY'.. of false', greatness'. Great'.. he unquestionably was'-great in the resources of a misguided spirit'great in the conception and execution of evil'-great in mischief', like the pestilence'-great in desolation', like the whirlwind'.

SECTION IX.

Bunker-Hill Monument.-WEBSTER.

Extract from a Speech delivered at the laying of the corner-stone.

WE know', indeed', that the record of illustrious actions', is most safely deposited in the universal remembrance of mankind'. We know', that', if we could cause this structure to ascend', not only till it reached the skîes', but till it pierced them', its broad surfaces could still contain but a part of that which', in an age of knowledge', has already been spread over the earth', and which history charges itself with making known to all future times'. We know that no inscription', on entablatures less broad than the earth itself', can carry information of the events we commemorate where it has not already gone'; and that no structure which shall not outlive the duration of letters and of knowledge among men', can prolong the memorial. But our object is', by this edifice', to show our deep sense of the value and importance of the achievements of our ancestors'; and', by presenting this work of gratitude to the eye', to keep alive similar sentiments', and to foster a constant regard for the principles of the Revolution'. Human beings are composed', not of reason only', but of imagination', also', and sentiment'; and that is neither wasted nor misapplied which is appropriated to the purpose of giving right direction to sentiments', and of opening proper springs of feeling in the heart'.

Let it not be supposed', that our object is to perpetuate national hostility', or even to cherish a mere military spirit'. It is higher', purer', nobler'. We consecrate our work to the spirit of national INDEPENDENCE'; and we wish that the light of peace may rest upon it forever'. We rear a memorial of our conviction of that unmeasured benefit which has been conferred on our land', and of the happy influences which have At-tsheve'ments-not, -munts.