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cious blood, let us devote ourselves to the sacred cause of constitutional liberty. Let us abjure the interests and passions, which divide the great family of American freemen. Let the rage of party spirit sleep to-day. Let us resolve that our children shall have cause to bless the memory of their fathers, as we have cause to bless the memory of ours.

SPEECH OF ONIAS, DISSUADING THE JEWS FROM REVOLT. Croly.

Go to war with Rome! you might as well go to war with the ocean, for her power is as wide; you might as well fight the storm, for her vengeance is as rapid; you might as well call up the armies of Judea against the pestilence, for her sword is as sweeping, as sudden, and as sure.

Who but madmen would go to war without allies? and where are yours to be looked for? Rome is the mistress of all nations. Would you make a war of fortresses? Rome has in her possession all your walled towns. Every tower from Dan to Beersheba has a Roman banner on its battlements. Would you meet her in the plain? Where are your horsemen ! The Roman cavalry would be upon before you could draw your swords; and would trample your boldest into the sand. Would you make the campaign in the mountains? Where are your magazines?

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The Roman generals would disdain to waste a drop of blood upon you; they would only have to block up the passes, and leave famine to do the rest. Harvest is not come; and if it were, you dare not descend to the plains to gather it. You are told to rely upon the strength of the country. Have the fiery sands of the desert, or the marshes of Germany, or the snows of Scythia, or the stormy waters of Britain, defended them?

Does Egypt, within your sight, give you no example? A land of inexhaustible fertility, crowded with seven millions and a half of men passionately devoted to their country, opulent, brave, and sustained by the countless millions of Africa, with a country defended on both flanks by the wilderness, in the rear inaccessible to the Roman, exposing the narrowest and most defensible front of any nation on earth yet Egypt, in spite of the Lybian valour, and the Greek genius, is garrisoned at this hour by a single Roman

legion! The Roman bird, grasping the thunder in its talons, and touching with one wing the sunrise and with the other the sunset, throws its shadow over the world. Shall we call it to stoop upon us? Must we spread for it the new banquet of the blood of Israel?

SPEECH OF SALATHIEL IN FAVOUR OF RESISTING THE ROMAN

POWER.-Croly.

WHAT! must we first mingle in the cabals of Jerusalem, and rouse the frigid debaters and disputers of the Sanhedrim into action? Are we first to conciliate the irreconcileable, to soften the furious, to purify the corrupt? If the Romans are to be our tyrants till we can teach patriotism to faction; we may as well build the dungeon at once, for, to the dungeon we are consigned for the longest life among us.

Death or glory for me. There is no alternative between, not merely the half-slavery that we now live in and independence, but between the most condign suffering and the most illustrious security. If the people would rise, through the pressure of public injury, they must have risen long since; if from private violence, what town, what district, what family, has not its claims of deadly retribution! Yet here the people stand, after a hundred years of those continued stimulants to resistance, as unresisting as in the day when Pompey marched over the threshold of the Temple.

I know your generous friendship, Eleazar, and fear that your anxiety to save me from the chances of the struggle, may bias your better judgment. But here 1 pledge myself, by all that constitutes the honour of man, to strike at all risks a blow upon the Roman crest, that shall echo through the land.

What! commit our holy cause into the nursing of those pampered hypocrites, whose utter baseness of heart you know still more deeply than I do? Linger, till those pestilent profligates raise their price with Florus by betraying a design, that will be the glory of every man who draws a

for human feelings? As well ask the serpent itself to rise from the original curse.

It is the irrevocable nature of faction to be base till it can be mischievous; to lick the dust until it can sting; to creep on its belly until it can twist its folds round the victim. No! let the old pensionaries, the bloated hangers-on in the train of every governor, the open sellers of their country for filthy lucre, betray me when I leave it in their power. To the field, I say; once and for all, to the field.

ANSWER OF LEWIS, DAUPHIN OF FRANCE, TO THE POPE'S
LEGATE.-Shakspeare.

YOUR grace will pardon me, I will not back;
I am too high born to be propertied,
To be a secondary at control,

Or useful serving-man, and instrument,
To any sovereign state throughout the world.
Your breath first kindled the dead coal of, wars,
Between this chastised kingdom and myself,
And brought in matter that should feed this fire;
And now 't is far too huge to be own out
With that same weak wind which enkindled it.
You taught me how to know the face of right,
Acquainted me with interest in this land,
Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart;
And come you now to tell me, John hath made
His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me?
I, by the honour of my marriage-bed,

After young Arthur, claim this land for mine:

And, now it is half conquered, must I back,

Because that John hath made his peace with Rome?

Am I Rome's slave? What penury hath Rome borne,
What men provided, what munition sent,

To underprop this action? Is it not I,
That undergo this charge? Who else but I,
And such, as to my claim are liable,

Sweat in this business, and maintain this war?
Have I not heard these Islanders shout out,

Vive le Roy!

I have banked their towns?

Have I not here the best cards for the game,
To win this ea match played for a crown?

And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?
No, on my soul, it never shall be said.
I will not return,

Till my attempt be so much glorified
As to my ample hope was promised,
Before I drew this gallant head of war,
And culled these fiery spirits from the world,
To outlook conquest, and to win renown,
Even in the jaws of danger and of death.

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THE AMERICAN FOREST GIRL.-Mrs Hemans.

WILDLY and mournfully the Indian drum

On the deep hush of moonlight forests broke;—
Sing us a death-song, for thine hour is come.'-
So the red warriours to their captive spoke.
Still, and amidst those dusky forms alone,

A youth, a fair-haired youth of England stood,
Like a king's son; though from his cheek had flown
The mantling crimson of the island-blood,
And his pressed lips looked marble.-Fiercely bright
And high around him blazed the fires of night,
Rocking beneath the cedars to and fro,

As the wind passed, and with a fitful glow
Lighting the victim's face :-thick cypress boughs
Full of strange sound, waved o'er him, darkly red
In the broad stormy firelight;-savage brows,

With tall plumes crested and wild hues o'erspread, Girt him like feverish phantoms; and pale stars Looked through the branches as through dungeon bars, Shedding no hope.-He knew, he felt his doomOh! what a tale to shadow with its gloom

That happy hall in England!—Idle fear!

Would the winds tell it?-Who might dream or hear
The secret of the forests ?-To the stake

They bound him; and that proud young soldier strove,, His father's spirit in his breast, to wake,

Trusting to die in silence! He, the love
Of many hearts-the fondly reared-the fair,
Gladdening all eyes to see!-And fettered there
He stood beside his death-pyre, and the brand
Flamed up to light it in the chieftain's hand.

He thought upon his God.-Hush! hark!—a cry
Breaks on the stern and dread solemnity :-
A step hath pierced the ring!-Who dares intrude
On the dark hunters in their vengeful mood?—
A girl-a young slight girl—a fawn-like child
Of green Savannas and the leafy wild,

Springing unmarked till then, as some lone flower,
Happy because the sunshine is its dower;

Yet one that knew how early tears are shed,—
For hers had mourned a playmate brother dead.

She had sat gazing on the victim long,
Until the pity of her soul grew strong;
And, by its passion's deepening fervour swayed,
Even to the stake she rushed, and gently laid
His bright head on her bosom, and around
His form her slender arms to shield it wound
Like close Liannes; then raised her glittering eye
And clear-toned voice, that said, 'He shall not die!'

'He shall not die!'-the gloomy forest thrilled

To that sweet sound.

A sudden wonder fell

On the fierce throng; and heart and hand were stilled,
Struck down, as by the whisper of a spell.

They gazed, their dark souls bowed before the maid,
She of the dancing step in wood and glade!
And, as her cheek flushed through its olive hue,
As her black tresses to the night-wind flew,

Something o'ermastered them from that young mien-
Something of heaven, in silence felt and seen;
And seeming, to their child-like faith, a token
That the Great Spirit by her voice had spoken.

They loosed the bonds that held their captive's breath;
From his pale lips they took the cup of death;
They quenched the brand beneath the cypress tree;
"Away,' they cried, "young stranger, thou art free!"

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