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but far inferior posterity; and well has he a right to

linger on the spot where he achieved one of the greatest 35 laurels that ever brightened in the wreath of fame: a

laurel better than that of the hero, as it is not stained with blood or tears: better even than that of the statesman who improves the civilisation of his country, inas

much as to create, is better than to improve. And the 40 man whose labours abolished the Slave Trade, at one

blow struck away the barbarism of a hundred nations, and elevated myriads of human beings, degraded to the brute, into all the dignified capacities of civilized man.

To have done this is the most noble, as it is the most 45 useful work, which any individual could accomplish.



Exercise 98. Eulogium on Mr. Fox.-SHERIDAN. Upon the one great subject, which, at this moment, I am confident has possession of the whole feelings of every man, whom I address—the loss, the irreparable loss,

of the great, the illustrious character, whom we all de 5 plore-1 shall, I can say but little.

He died in the spirit of peace; tranquil in his own expiring heart, and cherishing to the last, with a parental solicitude, the consoling hope that he should be able to give

established tranquillity to harassed, contending nations. 10 Let us trust, that the stroke of death which has borne him

from us, may not have left the peace of the world, and the civilized charities of man, as orphans upon the earth. With such a man, to have battled in the cause of genu

ine liberty- with such a man, to have struggled against 15 the inroads of oppression and corruption — with such

an example before me, to have to boast that I never in my life gave one vote in parliament that was not on the side of freedom, is the congratulation that attends the

retrospect of my public life. His friendship was the 20 pride and honor of my days. I never, for one moment,

regretted to share with him the difficulties, the calumnies, and sometimes even the dangers, that attended his honorable life. And now, reviewing my past political

conduct, were the option possible that I should retread 25 the path, I solemnly and deliberately declare, that I

would pursue the same course_bear up under the same pressure-abide by the same principles—and remain by his side, an exile from power, distinction, and emolument!

If I have missed the opportunity, of obtaining all the 30 support, I might, perhaps, have had, on the present oc

casion, from a very scrupulous delicacy, which I think became, and was incumbent upon me—I cannot repent it. In so doing, I acted on the feelings upon which I am

sensible all those would have acted who loved Mr. Fox 35 as I did. I felt within myself, that while the slightest

aspirations might still quiver on those lips, that were the copious channels of eloquence, wisdom, and benevolence — that while one drop of life's blood might still

warm that heart, which throbbed only for the good of 40 mankind—I should not, I could not have acted otherwise.

Gentlemen; the hour is not far distant, when an awful knell shall tell you, that the unburied remains of your re

vered patriot are passing through your streets, to that 45 sepulchral home where your kings—your heroes--your

sages—and your poets, will be honored by an association with his mortal remains. At that hour when the sad solemnity shall take place, in a private way, as more suited

to the simple dignity of his character, than the splendid 50 gaudiness of public pageantry; when you, all of you,

shall be self marshalled in reverential sorrow—mute, and reflecting on your mighty loss—at that moment shall the disgusting contest of an election-wrangle break the so

lemnity of such a scene? Is it fitting that any man 55 should overlook the crisis, and risk the monstrous and

disgusting contest? Is it fitting that I should be that man?


Death of Sheridan.-BYRON.
The flash of wit—the bright intelligence,
The beam of song—the blaze of eloquence,
Set with their sun-but still have left behind

The enduring produce of immortal mind;
5 Fruits of a genial morn, and glorious noon,

A deathless part of him who died too soon.

But small that portion of the wondrous whole,
These sparkling segments of that circling soul,

Which all embraced--and lightened over all, 10 To cheer-to pierce-to please-or to appal:

From the charmed council to the festive board,
Of human feelings the unbounded lord;
In whose acclaim the loftiest voices vied,

The praised—the proudwho made his praise their pride. 15 When the loud cry of trampled Hindostan

Arose to Heaven in her appeal from man,
His was the thunder-his the avenging rod,
The wrath—the delegated voice of God!

Which shook the nations through his lips-and blazed, 20 Till vanquished senates trembled as they praised.

And here, oh! here, where yet all young and warm,
The gay creations of his spirit charm,
The matchless dialogue—the deathless wit,

Which knew not what it was to intermit;
25 The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring

Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring;
These wondrous beings of his fancy, wrought
To fulness by the fiat of his thought,

Here in their first abode, you still may meet 30 Bright with the hues of his Promethan heat;

A halo of the light of other days,
Which still the splendour of its orb betrays.

Ye orators! whom yet our councils yield,

Mourn for the veteran hero of your field! 35 The worthy rival of the wondrous three! *

Whose words were sparks of immortality!
Ye Bards! to whom the Drama's Muse is dear,
He was your master-emulate him here!

Ye men of wit and social eloquence!
40 He was your brother-bear his ashes hence!

While powers of mind almost of boundless range,
Complete in kind—as various in their change;
While eloquence-wit-poesy—and mirth,

(That humbler harmonist of care on earth,)
15 Survive within our souls—while lives our sense

Of pride in merit's proud pre-eminence,

* Pitt, Fox, and Burke.

Long shall we seek his likeness—long in vain,
And turn to all of him which may remain,

Sighing that Nature formed but one such man, 50 And broke the die—in moulding SHERIDAN!

EXERCISE 100. The last family of Eastern Greenland.-MONTGOMERY In the cold sunshine of yon narrow dell, Affection lingers; there two lovers dwell, Greenland's whole family; nor long forlorn,

There comes a visitant; a babe is born. 5 O'er his meek helplessness the parents smiled;

'Twas hope;—for hope is every mother's child.

Then seemed they, in that world of solitude,
The Eve and Adam of a race renewed.

Brief happiness! too perilous to last; 10 The moon hath waxed and waned, and all is past.

Behold the end!-one morn athwart the wall,
They marked the shadow of a reindeer fall,
Bounding in tameless freedom o'er the snow;

The father tracked him, and with fatal bow 15 Smote down the victim; but, before his eyes,

A rabid she-bear pounced upon the prize;
A shaft into the spoiler's flank he sent,
She turned in wrath, and limb from limb had rent

The hunter; but his dagger's plunging steel, 20 With riven bosom, made the monster reel;

Unvanquished, both to closer combat flew,
Assailants each, till each the other slew;
Mingling their blood from mutual wounds, they lay,

Stretched on the carcass of their antlered prey. 25 Meanwhile his partner waits, her heart at rest,

No burden but her infant on her breast;
With him she slumbers, or with him she plays,
And tells him all her dreams of future days,

Asks him a thousand questions, feigns replies, 30 And reads whate'er she wishes in his eyes.

-Red evening comes; no husband's shadow falls, Where fell the reindeer's, o’er the latticed walls; 'Tis night! no footstep sounds towards her door;

The day returns, -but he returns no more. 35 In frenzy forth she sallies, and with cries,

To which no voice except her own replies,
In frightful echoes, starting all around,
Where human voice again shall never sound,

She seeks him, finds him not; some angel guide 40 In mercy turns her from the corpse aside;

Perhaps his own freed spirit, lingering near,
Who waits to waft her to a happier sphere,
But leads her first, at evening to their cot,

Where lies the little one, all day forgot; 45 Imparadised in sleep, she finds him there,

Kisses his cheek, and breathes a mother's prayer
Three days she languishes, nor can she shed
One tear between the living and the dead;

When her lost spouse comes o’er the widow's thought, 50 The pangs of memory are to madness wrought;

But, when her suckling's eager lips are felt,
Her heart would fain-but Oh! it cannot melt;
At length it breaks, while on her lap he lies,

With baby wonder gazing in her eyes.
55 Poor orphan! mine is not a hand to trace

Thy little story, last of all thy race!
Not long thy sufferings; cold and colder grown,
The arms that clasp thee, chill thy limbs to stone.

-'Tis done:-- from Greenland's coast the latest sigh 60 Bore infant innocence beyond the sky.

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The City and the Country.--M DONNOUGH.

The arrival of the two mountaineers was not long in 1 being known to the whole household in May Fair. Lit

tle Mary had hoisted the tartan in less time than the

ordinary tribe of lady's maids could easily comprehend, 5 and having hoisted that, she descended the stairs with

more rapidity than is customary with even that lightfooted tribe. The shakings by the hand, the "good graciouses! and are you there?" the uninterrupted in

quiries, the questions answered by a look, and the ques10 tions so rapid as not to admit of that brief response, pas

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