--

and

oppression on the European Continent, and because there is this condition of oppression there cannot be peace; for so long as men and Nations are oppressed, and so long as men and Nations are discontented, there cannot be peace- there cannot be tranquillity. War, like a volcano, boiling everlastingly, will, at the slightest opportunity, break out again, and sweep away all the artificial props of peace, of those interests which on peace depend. Europe is continually a great battle-field, a great barrack. Such is its condition; and, therefore, let not those who call themselves men of peace say they will not help Europe because they love peace! Let them confess truly that they are not men of peace, but only the upholders of the oppression of Nations. With me and with my principles is peace, because I will always faithfully adhere to the principles of liberty; and only on the principles of liberty can Nations be contented, and only with the contentment of Nations can there be peace on the earth. With me and with my principles there is peace, -lasting peace, - consistent peace! With the tyrants of the world there is oppression, struggles, and war!

10. THE TWENTY-SECOND OF DECEMBER, 1620. - Sir Henry Bulwer, 1850.

THE history of that plain and simple sect, which has had so great an influence on the character of your People, stands forth as one of the loftiest among the many monuments which attest the truth of that great Christian moral, "The proud shall be abased, the humble exalted." It convinces us, if at this day we wanted to be convinced, that it is not the mere will of arbitrary Princes, nor the vain bull of arrogant Pontiffs, that can lay prostrate the independence of the human mind. All assumption only breeds resistance, as all persecution only makes martyrs. Who, indeed, at the period to which this day recalls us, were the mighty of the earth? On the throne of England then sat a prince justly proud-if pride could ever rest upon sound foundations of the triple crown which had recently become his family inheritance. In France the sceptre was held in the hands of a still haughtier race, which ruled with supreme authority over the most gallant and chivalrous People in the world. What has become of the illustrious lines of these two royal houses, of that of the sovereign who gloried in the "non-conformity bill," or that of those sovereigns amongst whose deeds are recorded the massacre of St. Bartholomew and the revocation of the edict of Nantes? The crown of the Stuarts has melted into air in the one kingdom; the sceptre of the Bourbons has been shattered into atoms in the other. But here, on this spot, where I am speaking, still stands, erect and firm, the pilgrim's staff. From the bruised seed of the poor and persecuted Puritan has arisen one of the most powerful and prosperous empires in the world. that which is a warning unto others be a lesson unto you.

Let

Remember that, when your Pilgrim Fathers first started for the American shores, they trusted themselves to two vessels; the one

boasted in the proud name of Speedwell, the other had the gentle appellation of the Mayflower. Which arrived first at its destination? The vaunting Speedwell was obliged to put into port, while the modest Mayflower dashed gallantly across the ocean. You were simple and unpretending in the day of your weakness; be never vain or arrogant in the day of your strength. You were superior to your adversity; you have only to be equal to your prosperity. And, if you ever wish to know the principal cause of the proud position you have already achieved, you may look for it confidently among the trials and difficulties through which you have passed. Yes, if you have made your country, believe me, it is no less true that your country has made you.

I grieve, whilst I rejoice, to say that it is amidst the general confusion of crude experiments, terrible uncertainties, mystic dreams, and ripening convulsions, that alone and singly is to be seen towering the common Genius of Albion, and of Albion's transatlantic children. No tempest, raised in the heated atmosphere of fantastic theory, clouds her brow; no blood, spilt in civil butchery, bedaubs her garments; no poisons, corroding the principles of public and domestic morality, tear her vitals. Serene and undisturbed, she moves onward firmly. Trade and agriculture strew her way with plenty; law and religion march in her van; order and freedom follow her footsteps. And here, at this solemn moment, whilst pouring out our libations to the sacred memory of our sainted fathers - here, I invoke that Genius to bless the union of our kindred races, to keep steadfast in our hearts the pleasant recollections of the past, to blend gratefully in our minds the noble aspirations of the future, to hallow in one breath the twin altars we will raise in common to Memory and Hope! - to "Old England and Young America!"

11. BRITISH AGGRESSIONS, 1768. — Josiah Quincy, Jr. Born, 1743; died, 1775. Ir there ever was a time, this is the hour for Americans to rouse themselves, and exert every ability. Their all is at hazard, and the die of fate spins doubtful. British taxations, suspensions of legislatures, and standing armies, are but some of the clouds which overshadow the northern world. Now is the time for this People to summon every aid, human and divine; to exhibit every moral virtue, and call forth every Christian grace. The wisdom of the serpent, the innocence of the dove, and the intrepidity of the lion, with the blessing of God, will yet save us from the jaws of destruction.

By the sweat of our brow we earn the little we possess; from nature we derive the common rights of man; and by charter we claim the liberties of Britons! Shall we- - dare we- pusillanimously surrender our birthright? Is the obligation to our fathers discharged? is the debt we owe posterity paid? Answer me, thou coward, who hidest thyself in the hour of trial!—if there is no reward in this life, no prize of glory in the next, capable of animating thy dastard soul, think and tremble, thou miscreant! at the whips and stripes thy mas

ter shall lash thee with on earth, and the flames and scorpions thy second master shall torment thee with hereafter! O, my countrymen! what will our children say, when they read the history of these times, should they find we tamely gave away, without one noble struggle, the most invaluable of earthly blessings? As they drag the galling chain, will they not execrate us? If we have any respect for things sacred, any regard to the dearest treasure on earth, if we have one tender sentiment for posterity, if we would not be despised by the whole world, let us, in the most open, solemn manner, and with determined fortitude, swear we will die, if we cannot live, freemen!

12. ELOQUENCE AND LOGIC.-William C. Preston.

OUR popular institutions demand a talent for speaking, and create a taste for it. Liberty and eloquence are united, in all ages. Where the sovereign power is found in the public mind and the public heart, eloquence is the obvious approach to it. Power and honor, and all that can attract ardent and aspiring natures, attend it. The noblest instinct is to propagate the spirit, -"to make our mind the mind of other men," and wield the sceptre in the realms of passion. In the art of speaking, as in all other arts, a just combination of those qualities necessary to the end proposed is the true rule of taste. Excess is always wrong. Too much ornament is an evil, too little, also. The one may impede the progress of the argument, or divert attention from it, by the introduction of extraneous matter; the other may exhaust attention, or weary by monotony. Elegance is in a just medium. The safer side to err on is that of abundance, as profusion is better than poverty; as it is better to be detained by the beauties of a landscape, than by the weariness of the desert.

It is commonly, but mistakenly, supposed that the enforcing of truth is most successfully effected by a cold and formal logic; but the subtleties of dialectics, and the forms of logic, may play as fantastic tricks with truth, as the most potent magic of Fancy. The attempt to apply mathematical precision to moral truths is always a failure, and generally a dangerous one. If man, and especially masses of men, were purely intellectual, then cold reason would alone be influential to convince; but our nature is most complex, and many of the great truths which it most concerns us to know are taught us by our instincts, our sentiments, our impulses, and our passions. Even in regard to the highest and holiest of all truth, to know which concerns us here and hereafter, we are not permitted to approach its investigation in the confidence of proud and erring reason, but are taught to become as little children before we are worthy to receive it. It is to this complex nature that the speaker addresses himself, and the degree of power with which all the elements are evoked is the criterion of the orator. His business, to be sure, is to convince, but more to persuade; and most of all, to inspire with noble and generous passions. It is the

The

cant of criticism, in all ages, to make a distinction between logic and eloquence, and to stigmatize the latter as declamation. Logic ascertains the weight of an argument, Eloquence gives it momentum. difference is that between the vis inertia of a mass of metal, and the same ball hurled from the cannon's mouth. Eloquence is an argument alive and in motion, the statue of Pygmalion inspired with vitality.

*

13. SENDING RELIEF TO IRELAND, 1847. — S. S. Prentiss.

WE have assembled, not to respond to shouts of triumph from the West, but to answer the cry of want and suffering which comes from the East. The Old World stretches out her arms to the New. The starving parent supplicates the young and vigorous child for bread. There lies, upon the other side of the wide Atlantic, a beautiful island, famous in story and in song. Its area is not so great as that of the State of Louisiana, while its population is almost half that of the Union. It has given to the world more than its share of genius and of greatness. It has been prolific in statesmen, warriors, and poets. Its brave and generous sons have fought successfully all battles but their own. In wit and humor it has no equal, while its harp, like its history, moves to tears, by its sweet but melancholy pathos. Into this fair region God has seen fit to send the most terrible of all those fearful ministers who fulfil his inscrutable decrees. The earth has failed to give her increase; the common mother has forgotten her offspring, and her breast no longer affords them their accustomed nourishment. Famine, gaunt and ghastly famine, has seized a nation in its strangling grasp; and unhappy Ireland, in the sad woes of the present, forgets, for a moment, the gloomy history of the past.

O! it is terrible, in this beautiful world, which the good God has given us, and in which there is plenty for us all, that men should die of starvation! You, who see, each day, poured, into the lap of your city, food sufficient to assuage the hunger of a nation, can form but an imperfect idea of the horrors of famine. In battle, in the fulness of his pride and strength, little recks the soldier whether the hissing bullet sings his sudden requiem, or the cords of life are severed by the sharp steel. But he who dies of hunger wrestles alone, day after day, with his grim and unrelenting enemy. The blood recedes, the flesh deserts, the muscles relax, and the sinews grow powerless. At last, the mind, which, at first, had bravely nerved itself for the contest, gives way, under the mysterious influences which govern its union with the body. Then he begins to doubt the existence of an overruling Providence; he hates his fellow-men, and glares upon them with the longings of a cannibal, and, it may be, dies blaspheming!

Who will hesitate to give his mite to avert such awful results? Surely not the citizens of New Orleans, ever famed for deeds of benevo lence and charity. Freely have your hearts and purses opened, here

* An allusion to the victories in Mexico, the news of which had been recently received.

Nobly did you respond to
Within Erin's borders is

tofore, to the call of suffering humanity. oppressed Greece and to struggling Poland. an enemy more cruel than the Turk, more tyrannical than the Russian. Bread is the only weapon that can conquer him. Let us, then, load ships with this glorious munition, and, in the name of our common humanity, wage war against this despot Famine. Let us, in God's name, "cast our bread upon the waters," and if we are selfish enough to desire it back again, we may recollect the promise, that it shall return to us after many days.

14. A PLEA FOR THE SAILOR.- William Mountford.

O, THE difference between sea and land! The sailor lives a life of daily, hourly, momentary risk, and he reckons it by voyages. He goes on your errands, he dares dangers for you, he lives a strange life for you. Think of what winter is at sea. Think of what it is to have the waves discharge themselves on a ship, with a roar like artillery, and a force not much less. Think of what it is for a sailor to be aloft in the rigging, holding on by a rope, wet with the rain, or numbed with the cold, and with the mast of the ship swaying, with the wind, like a reed. Think of what it is when men drop from the yard-arms into the sea, or when they are washed from the deck like insects. Think of what it is, day and night, without rest and without sleep, to strive against a storm, against the might of wind and waves, every wave a mighty enemy to surmount. Think what it is to strike on a rock, to shriek but once, and then, perhaps, be drowned. Think of the diseases that come of hardships at sea. Think of what it is to be sick in a lazaretto, to lie dying in a foreign hospital. Think of all this, and then, perhaps, you will think rightly of what it is to be a sailor.

Think of what you yourselves owe to the sailor. It is through his intervention that you are possessed of those comforts that make of a house a home. Live comfortably you cannot, live at all, perhaps, you cannot, without scamen will expose themselves for you, risk themselves for you, and, alas! often, very often, drown, - drown in your service, drown, and leave widows and orphans destitute. O! what a consideration it is, that, so often, my happiness is from suffering somewhere! My salvation is from a death upon a cross. The church I worship in has every one of its pillars deep founded in a martyr's grave. The philosophy that delights me for its truth is what some wise man had first to learn in bitterness. My comforts are mine, many of them, through other men's miseries. Commerce spreads the world about me with blessings, but not without there being shipwrecks from it on every coast, and deaths by drowning, — several every day, the year round.

Ah! yes; to beg with me, to plead with me, for the widow and orphan of the mariner, there comes, from many a place where seamen have died, a call, a prayer, a beseeching voice; a cry from the coast