5. He felt that poetry was a universal presence. Great minds were everywhere his kindred. He felt the enchant ment of oriental fiction, surrendered himself to the strange creations of "Araby the blest,” and delighted still more in the romantic spirit of chivalry, and in the tales of wonder in which it was embodied. Accordingly, his poetry reminds us of the ocean, which adds to its own boundlessness, contributions from all regions under heaven.

6. Nor was it only in the department of imagination that his acquisitions were vast. He traveled over the whole field of knowledge, as far as it had then been explored. His various philological attainments were used to put him in possession of the wisdom stored in all countries where the intellect had been cultivated. The natural philosophy, metaphysics, ethics, history, theology, and political science of his own and former times, were familiar to him. Never was there a more unconfined mind; and we would cite Milton as a practical example of the benefits of that universal culture of intellect, which forms one distinction of our times, but which some dread as unfriendly to original thought.

7. Let such remember that mind is, in its own nature, diffusive. Its object is the universe, which is strictly one, or bound together by infinite connections and correspondencies; and, accordingly, its natural progress is from one field of thought to another, and wherever original power or creative genius exists, the mind, far from being distracted or oppressed by the variety of its acquisitions, will see more and more bearings, and hidden and beautiful analogies in all the objects of knowledge, will see mutual light shed from truth to truth, and will compel, as with a kingly power, whatever it understands to yield some tribute of proof, or illustration, or splendor, to whatever topic it would unfold.

Greece proper. Between two rocks on this mountain issues what poets call the Par nassian spring. a Metaphysics; the science of mind or intelligence.

LESSON CXXXII.

[Before reading this piece it would be well to consult the directions given on page 62.]

COL. WALSINGHAM-BARON HOHENDAHL

SHEE.

Impossible!

Hohendahl. I have it here in proof;
Rebellion wears his livery, and looks big
In promise of his aid: his followers
Are seen in midnight muster on our hills,
Rehearsing insurrection, and arrayed
In mimicry of war.

Wal. It cannot be !

Walsingham. Nay! my good lord! you carry this too far Alasco leader of a band of rebels !

ALASCO.

By heaven it cannot be ! your spies deceive you.
I know the madness of the time has reached him,

And when the fit is on, like other fools,

He raves of liberty and public rights;

But he would scorn to lead the low cabals

Of vassal discontent and vulgar turbulence.

Hoh. My good old friend! your loyal nature yields
Unwilling credence to such crimes as these;
But I have marked Alasco well, and found
Beneath the mask of specious seeming, still
The captious critic of authority;
Ready to clap sedition on the back,

And stir the very dregs and lees of life,
To foam upon its surface;
at I see

The subject moves you.

Wal.

His father was my friend and fellow-soldier ;
A braver spirit never laid his life
Upon his country's altar. At my side

He fell; his wife and son, with his last breath,

Yes, it does, indeed!

Bequeathing to my care; a sacred trust,
Of half its duties speedily curtailed;
For grief soon bowed the widow to her grave.
Sole guardian of Alasco, 't was my pride

To form him like his father; and indeed,

So apt in honor and all worth he grew,
My wishes scarce kept pace with his advancement.
While yet a boy, I led him to the field,
And there such gallant spirit he displayed,
That e'en the steady veteran in the breach
Was startled at his daring. To be brief,
I loved him as my son.
You were our theme, Alasco.

[Enter Alasco.]

Alasco. A subject, sir, unworthy of discussion,

If slander have not given it a zest.

Wal. Slander, Alasco!

Alas. Ay, sir, slander 's abroad,

And busy; few escape her; she can take

All shapes; and sometimes, froin the blistered lips
Of galled authority, will pour her slime

On all who dare dispute the claims of pride,

Or question the high privilege of oppression.

Hoh. Your words seem pointed, sir, and splenetic.
Alas. They are honest, my lord, and you well understand

them.

Wal. What means this heat, Alasco? Innocence
Can fear no slander, and suspects no foe.

Alas. He's on his guard who knows his enemy,
And innocence may safely trust her shield
Against an open foe; but who's so mailed
That slander shall not reach him? coward calumny
Stabs in the dark.

[Going.]

Alasco Count Alasco!

[Returning.]

'Tis now, methinks, some twenty years, or more, Since that brave man, your father, and my friend, While life scarce fluttered on his quivering lips, Consigned your youthful fortunes to my care.

Wal.

Alas.

Wal.

Sir, your pleasure?

Alas. And nobly, sir, your generous spirit stands

Acquitted of that trust.

Wal. 'Tis well! perhaps

I may assume I've been Alasco's friend.

Alas. My friend! my father! say, my more than

father!

And let me still, with love and reverence, pay
The duty of a son.

Wal. A son of mine

Must be the soul of loyalty and honor;
A scion worthy of the stock he grafts on;
No factious mouther of imagined wrongs,
To sting and goad the maddening multitude,
And set the monster loose for desolation.

Alas. Is this to me! has slander gone so far,
As dare to taint the honor of Alasco?

Wal.

How suits it with the honor of Alasco, To plot against his country's peace, and league With low confederates, for a lawless purpose? Maneuvering miscreants in the form of war, And methodizing tumult?

Alas.

Have I done this?

Wal. How must it soothe thy father's hovering shade, To hear his name, so long to glory dear, Profaned and sullied in sedition's mouth, The countersign of turbulence and treason

Alas. The proud repulse that suits a charge like this, Preferred by lips less reverenced, I forbear.

Wal. Are you not stained

With foul disloyalty; a blot indelible?

Have you not practised on the senseless rabble,
Till disaffection breeds in every breast
And spawns rebellion?

Alas. No! by heaven, not so!

With most unworthy patience have I borne
My country's ruin; seen an ancient state
Struck down by scepters, trampled on by kings,

And fraud and rapine registered in blood;
As Europe's public law, e'en on the authority
Of thrones; this have I seen; yes, like a slave,
A coward, have I seen what well might burst •
The patriot's heart, and from its scabbard force
The feeblest sword that ever slumbered at
A courtier's side; yet have I never stirred
My country; never roused her sons to vengeance:
But rather used the sway their love allowed me,
To calm the boiling tumult of their hearts,
Which else had chafed and foamed to desperation.
Hoh. The state is much beholden to Alasco;
And we, her humble instruments, must bow,
And to his interference owe our safety.

Alas. Tyrants, proud lord, are never safe, nor should be.
The ground is mined beneath them as they tread;
Haunted by plots, cabals, conspiracies,
Their lives are long convulsions, and they shake,
Surrounded by their guards and garrisons.

Hoh. Your patriot care, sir, would redress all wrongs
That spring from harsh restraints of law and justice.
Your virtue prompts you to make war on tyrants,
And like another Brutus free your country.

Alas. Why, if there were some slanderous tool of state,

Some taunting, dull, unmannered deputy,
Some district despot prompt to play the Tarquin,
By heaven! I well could act the Roman part,
And strike the brutal tyrant to the earth,
Although he wore the mask of Hohendahl.

[Draws.

Hoh. Ha! darest thou thus provoke me, insolent! Wal. [Advancing between them.] Rash boy, forbear! My lord, you are too hasty.

Alas. This reproof is your protection from my arm. Wal. Methinks, young man, a friend of mine might claim More reverence at your hands.

Alas. Thy friend! by heaven !

That sacred title might command my worship,