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to the influence of truth. By slow but sure advances, education has extended itself through all ranks of female society. There is no longer any dread, lest the culture of science should foster that masculine boldness and restless independence, which alarms by its sallies, or wounds by its inconsistencies. We have seen that here, as every where else, knowledge is favorable to human virtue and human happiness; that the refinement of literature adds lustre to the devotion of piety; that true learning, like true taste, is modest and unostentatious; that grace of manners receives a higher polish from the discipline of the schools; that cultivated genius sheds a cheering light over domestic duties, and its very sparkles, like those of the diamond, attest at once its power and its purity. There is not a rank of female society, however high, which does not now pay homage to literature, or that would not blush even at the suspicion of that ignorance, which, a half century ago, was neither uncommon nor discreditable. There is not a parent, whose pride may not glow at the thought, that his daughter's happiness is in a great measure within her own command, whether she keeps the cool, sequestered vale of life, or visits the busy walks of fashion.

A new path is thus opened for female exertion, to alleviate the pressure of misfortune, without any supposed sacrifice of dignity or modesty. Man no longer aspires to an exclusive dominion in authorship. He has rivals or allies in almost every department of knowledge; and they are to be found among those whose elegance of manners and blamelessness of life command his respect, as much as their talents excite

his admiration. Who is there that does not contemplate with enthusiasm the precious fragments of Elizabeth Smith, the venerable learning of Elizabeth Carter, the elevated piety of Hannah More, the persuasive sense of Mrs. Barbauld, the elegant memoirs of her accomplished niece, the bewitching fiction of Madame D'Arblay, the vivid, picturesque and terrific imagery of Mrs. Radcliffe, the glowing poetry of Mrs. Hemans, the matchless wit, the inexhaustible conversations, the fine character painting, the practical instructions of Miss Edgeworth.



'Twas moonlight in Eden! Such moonlight, I ween,
As never again on this earth shall be seen,-
So soft fell the radiance, - so wondrously blue
Was the sky, with its star-enthroned angels in view!
How bright was the bower where the fair-fingered Eve,
The blossoming gårlands delighted to weave ;
While the rose caught its blush from her cheek's living dye.
And the violet its hue from her love-lighted eye.
There, lulled by the murmurs of musical streams,
And charmed by the rainbow-winged spirit of dreams, -
The eyes softly closed that so soon were to weep,-
Our parents reposed in a bliss-haunted sleep.
But other forms gazed on the grandeur of night,
And beings celestial grew glad at the sight;
All warm from the glow of their ainber-hued skies,
How strange seemed the shadows of earth to their eyes

There, azure-robed beauty, with rapture-lit smile,
Her golden wings folded, reclined for a while;
And the Seraph of Melody breathed but a word,
Then listened entranced at the echoes she heard.

From mountain and forest an organ-like tone,
From hill-top and valley a mellower one;
Stream, fountain, and fall, whispered low to the sod,
For the word that she spoke was the name of our God!

With blushes like Eden's own rose in its bloom,
Her censer slow wafting ambrosial perfume,
With soft-veiling tresses of sunny-hued hair,
The spirit of fragrance breathed sweet on the air.

Then first on the ears of the angels of light,
Rose the singing of birds that enchanted the night,
For the breezes are minstrels in Heaven, they say,
And the leaves and the flowers have a musical play

Each form of creation with joy was surveyed,
From the gentle gazelle to the kings of the glade;
And lily.crowned Innocence gazed in the eyes
Of the thunder-voiced lion, with smiling surprise
All night, as if stars were deserting their posts,
The heavens were bright with the swift-coming hosts.
While the sentinel mountains, in garments of green,
With glory-decked foreheads, like monarchs were seen
O Eden, fair Eden! where now is thy bloom?
And where are the pure ones that wept o'er thy doom }
Their plumes never lighten our shadowy skies,
Their voices no more on earth's breezes arise.
But joy for the faith that is strong in its powers, -
A fairer and better land yet shall be ours;
When Sin shall be vanquished, and Death yield his prey,
And earth with her nations Jehovah obey.

Then, nobler than Adam,-more charming than Eve,
The Son of the Highest his palace shall leave,
While the saints who adored Him arise from the tomb,
At the triumph-strain, telling “ His Kingdom is come !"



The quarry whence thy form majestic sprung

Has peopled earth with grace,
Heroes and gods that elder bards have sung,

A bright and peerless race;
But from its sleeping veins ne’er rose before

A shape of loftier name
Than his, who glory's name with meekness wore,

The noblest son of fame.
Sheathed is the sword that passion never stain'd,

His gaze around is cast,
As if the joys of freedom newly-gained

Before his vision pass'd ;
As if a nation's shout of love and pride

With music fill’d the air,
And his calm soul was lifted on the tide

Of deep and grateful prayer ;
As if the crystal mirror of his life

To fancy sweetly came,
With scenes of patient toil and noble strife,

Undimm’d by doubt or shame;
As if the lofty purpose of his soul

Expression would betray-
The high resolve ambition to control

And thrust her crown away?.
0, it was well in marble firm and white

To carve our hero's form,

Whose angel guidance was our strength in fight,

Our star amid the storm!
And it is well to place his image there,

Beneath the dome he blest;
Let meaner spirits who its councils share,

Revere that silent guest !
Let us go up with high and sacred love

To look on his pure brow,
And as with solemn grace he points above,

Renew the patriot's vow!

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As we drew near to the lofty fabric, I thought that no scene of such various beauty and magnificence, had ever met my eye. The temple itself is a work of unrivaled art. In size, it surpasses any other building of the same kind in Rome, and for the excellence of workmanship, and purity of design, although it may fall below the standard of Hadrian's age, yet for a certain air of grandeur, and luxuriance of invention, in its details, and lavish profusion of embellishment in gold and silver, no temple nor other edifice of any preceding age, ever perhaps resenibled it.

Its order is Corinthian, of the Roman form, and the entire building is surrounded by its slender columns, each composed of a single piece of marble. Upon the front is wrought Apollo surrounded by the Hours.

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