THE PURITAN. No. 49. Yet much remains To conquer still: Peace hath her victories Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains: Milton's Sonnet to Cromwell. ALREADY have I told my readers, that whatever might be my efforts, the cruel and ungrateful world always seemed to make it a point to leave me to obscurity and neglect. No deathless laurels bloomed for me. Votes bore not my name; and essays, epigrams, sermons, epic poems, though calculated for immortality, went to immediate oblivion. But once in my life my disastrous stars made a sudden revolution from the nadir to the zenith; and I was chosen to deliver an oration, on the 4th of July, to the whole assembled town of Bundleborough. Here was a great occasion. Much was expected; and I endeavored to arise to the height of the great argument set before me. As however the oration, though I thought it my master-piece, was not requested for the press, I shall publish it here. ORATION FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1820. BY JOHN Oldbug. Hail, natal day! Hail, happy country, where every sound is the echo of tranquillity, and every blossom the efflorescence of delight! Hail, Columbia, the glory of all lands, the home of the brave, and the paradise of the free! Hail, those noble heroes! who poured out their blood like water to purchase our liberties, though some of them had been so starved by oppression that they had scarcely any blood to shed! Hail, this blessed morn! when the blushing aurora, leading on the joyful hours from the golden gates of the east, and calling up every tuneful bird, reminds us, as she drives her airy chariot over the silver drops of dew, of the times, which tried men's souls. Hail, the fair sex! whose beauties incite the patriot and reward the conqueror, as he returns home on his triumphal car, to lay, in his sweet, domestic nest, the eggs of hope, and brood over them, with fond, parental care, until he hatches the chickens of innocent enjoyment. Hail, Washington! Hail, Green! Hail, Bunker Hill, and Lexington! or rather, (to speak without an anachronism,) Lexington and Bunker Hill! Hail, every thing that ought to be hailed on such a glorious day. as this! And now, fellow citizens, having got through this travelled paragraph, which it has almost exhausted my ingenuity to write, and my breath to speak, let me lay aside my sublimities and call you, through the rest of this oration, to hear a little plain common sense. It is certain, whatever may be the purposes of human nature, man was never made for solitude. His station is society; his passions, his wants, his desires and his aversions, all point him to the social scene; and mix him with the great ocean of which his own existence is a constituent drop. This consideration should urge us to take a deep interest in the welfare of our fellow creatures; to improve that community from which it is impossible for us to retreat. Though the solitary island, the silent grove, the peaceful cell, the lonely bed, and the tranquil stream, may occasionally amuse a romantic imagination, yet in these respects, truth and fancy are entirely opposite. No man can, probably, bear a perfect seclusion from his species. This remark is not confuted by the history of the ancient monks. It was eminently a social passion that drove them into retirement. They were sought out and admired in their cells; and the wilderness was often to them, a passage to the episcopal throne. Whatever storms may pass over the sea of life, whatever passions may rage, however vice may be exalted and virtue depressed, it is the duty of a good man to face the difficulties. As politicians have said, that the most tyrannical government, is better than anarchy; so it may be said, with equal truth, that the most corrupt society is better than solitude. The whole system of social virtue, is built on the divine command, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." This implies that we have a neighbor. It is social life alone that can give meaning to the law of God. It is not uncommon to find some men, whose intentions are the best, whose perceptions are the most clear, and whose morality is most refined, shuffled out their influence, because they could not bear the roughness of the contest-because they would not purchase popularity at the market-price-because when their motives were misunderstood, and their character torn, they shrunk in discouragement from an ungrateful world, and felt in evil times, that a private station was the post of honor. This, however, is a fatal mistake. Evil times are precisely the occasions when the influence of good men is most needed. The station that mortifies their pride, which they call their feelings, that taxes their modesty, is precisely the station which in duty they ought to keep. It is true, you will see the noisy and the bold run away with much of the influence. You will see the meanest abilities succeeding by arts, which you cannot use. You will see the grossest hypocrisy for a while pass undetected; and the crowd so completely deceived, that they will consider it almost as treason to show them their true interest. But what then? Let not the good man despair. The arts of deception are ex haustible. The influence of truth is eternal. Like a constant stream, never foaming and never dry—it wears away the obstacle by a ceaseless flow. The people, it is true, sometimes sleep over their interest; they not only sleep, but they dream. Yet however soft their slumbers, or wild their dreams, they must wake at last. It has been the fatal mistake of some good men, that they have not waited for the waking hour. They have been defeated by their own despair. In farther pursuing this subject, I solicit your patience while I shall discuss the following propositions. 1st. That most of the real good accomplished in the world, has been done by cool and impartial men—not the slaves of a party. 2d. That much more good would have been done, if such men had not too soon abandoned their cause. 3d. They ought to persevere and support each other. 1. That most of the real good accomplished in the world, has been done by cool and impartial men-not the slaves of a party. A moment's reflection must convince us that utility is a distant object; to be looked at only by a cool and considering mind. It is like the rainbow which bounds the prospect and is to be seen by him alone, who cast his sight forward and elevates his eye, to that heaven in which the beautiful arch is completed. Impartial discernment is necessary even to form a |