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of the modern world, but has far exceled the imperial republic of antiquity. We shall accomplish still more, in effecting all that an American people, citizens of a confederacy of republics, can perform, under the combined influence of the reformation and of our revolution. We shall be the Greece of the modern world, unrivaled by the literature of three thousand years. All, indeed, that the system of the reformers can bring to pass, our country, the only holy land of religious liberty, the only promised land of political freedom, shall assuredly accomplish. Then shall our country be—emphatically, pre-eminently—the empire of mind, the republic of letters.

59.

THE GOODNESS OF GOD.- .-Worcester.

For what purpose did the infinite Creator give existence to this majestic monument of his almighty power? For what purpose did he create the earth and the heavens, with all their unnumbered hosts ? Was it not evidently, that he might communicate happiness; and does not this design appear conspicuous on the open face of nature ? What is the plain and unequivocal indication of all those marks of infinite wisdom, and skilful contrivance, in the general dispositions, and in all parts of surrounding nature ? Is it not, that the Creator of all things is infinitely good? Is there not a display of infinite goodness, in the regular and harmonious disposition of the heavenly orbs ? Instead of this beautiful order, why was there not the most horrible confusion ? Instead of this benignant harmony of the spheres, why was there not a perpetual jar, and the most disastrous concussion ? Is there not a display of infinite goodness in the grandeur and beauty of the creation,--so favorably adapted to elevate, to inspire with admiration, and fill with the purest pleasure, the devout and contemplative mind ? Why was not the whole creation so formed as only to excite amazement, terror, and despair ? Is there not a display of infinite goodness in the beautiful scenery of our globe,—so agreeably diversified with continents and seas, islands and lakes, mountains and plains, hills and valleys, adapted to various beneficial purposes, and abounding with productions, in endless variety, for the convenience, the support, and the happiness of its diversified inhabitants ? Why was not the whole earth like the burning sands of Libya, or the rugged and frozen mountains of Zembla ? Why was it not one wide and dreary waste, producing only briers and thorns, and poisonous or bitter fruits ? Is there not a display of infinite goodness in the grateful vicis. situdes of the seasons, each bearing upon its bosom its peculiar delights ?—the spring arrayed in the most beautiful verdure, and decorated with flowers; the summer abounding with delightful prospects, and teeming with luxuriance ; autumn loaded with golden harvests, and the richest variety of fruits; and even winter supplying in social enjoyments, and the nobler pleasures of study and contemplation, what it lacks in external charms? Why was not the whole year one continued scene of dull uniformity, or so irregular in its changes as utterly to baffle all the calculations, and arrangements, and pursuits of life? Why was not every sight a spectacle of horror, every sound a shriek of distress, every sweet a most pungent bitter, every gale a blast of pestilence? Is it not because the Creator and Preserver of the world, is a being of infinite goodness? Is it not strange, that we do not constantly perceive the glory of God, which the heavens declare, and gratefully recognize his goodness, so richly spread abroad through all his works? Happy, happy were it for us, did nature constantly appear to us as it really is, animated and enlivened by its glorious Author! When the sun rises or sets in the heavens, when spring adorns the earth, when summer shines in its glory, when autumn pours forth its fruits, or when winter returns in its awful forms, happy were it for us, did we constantly view the great Creator and Preserver of all, continually manifesting himself in his various works! Happy, did we meet his presence in the smiling fields, feel his influence in the cheering beams, hear his voice even in the whispering breeze, and taste his goodness in every gift of nature and providence! Happy, did we feel ourselves every where surrounded with the glory of that universal Spirit, who fills, pervades and enlivens all; and did we live in the world, as in a great and august temple, where the presence of the Divinity who inhabits it, fills the mind with awe, and inspires the heart with devotion !

60.

BURR AND BLANNERHASSET.— Wirt.

Who is Blannerhasset? A native of Ireland, a man of letters, who fled from the storms of his own country to find quiet in ours. Possessing himself of a beautiful island in the Ohio, he rears upon it a palace, and decorates it with every romantic embellishment of fancy. A shrubbery, that Shenstone might have envied, blooms around him; music, which might have ·

!

charmed Calypso and her nymphs, is his; an extensive library spreads its treasures before him; a philosophical apparatus offers to him all the secrets and mysteries of nature: peace, tranquillity, and innocence, shed their mingled delights around him: and to crown the enchantment of the scene, a wife, who is said to be lovely even beyond her sex, and graced with every accomplishment that can render it irresistible, had blessed him with her love, and made him the father of her children. The evidence would convince you, sir, that this is only a faint picture of the real life. In the midst of all this peace, this innocence, and this tranquillity, this feast of the mind, this pure banquet of the heart—the destroyer comes; he comes to turn this paradise into a hell

. A stranger presents himself. It is Aaron Burr ! Introduced to their civilities by the high rank which he had lately held in his country, he soon finds his way to their hearts by the dignity and elegance of his demeanor, the light and beauty of his conversation, and the seductive and fascinating power of his address. The conquest was not a difficult one. Innocence is ever simple and credulous; conscious of no designs of itself, it suspects none in others; it wears no guards before its breast; every door, and portal, and avenue of the neart is thrown open, and all who choose it enter. Such was the state of Eden, when the serpent entered its bowers. The prisoner in a more engaging form, winding himself into the open and unpractised heart of the unfortunate Blannerhasset, found but little difficulty in changing the native character of that heart and the objects of its affection. By degrees he infuses into it the poison of his own ambition; he breathes into it the fire of his own courage; a daring and desperate thirst for glory; ani ardor panting for all the storms, and bustle, and hurricane of life In a short time the whole man is changed, and every object of his former delight relinquished. No more he enjoys the tran quil scene; it has become flat and insipid to his taste; his books are abandoned; his retort and crucible are thrown aside ; his shrubbery blooms and breathes its fragrance upon the air in vain ; he likes it not; his ear no longer drinks the rich meiody of music; it longs for the trumpet's clangor and the cannon's roar: even the prattle of his babes, once so sweet, no longer affects him; and the angel smile of his wife, which hitherto touched his bosom with ecstacy so unspeakable, is now unseen and unfelt. Greater objects have taken possession of his soul-. his imagination has been dazzled by visions of diadems, and stars and garters, and titles of nobility; he has been taught to burn with restless emulation at the names of Cromwell, Cesar, and Bonaparte. His enchanted island is destined soon to relapso into a desert; and in a few months we find the tender and beautiful partner of his bosom, whom he lately “permitted not the winds of summer to visit too roughly,"—we find her shivering, at midnight, on the winter banks of the Ohio, and mingling her tears with the torrents that froze as they fell. Yet this unfortunate man, thus deluded from his interest and his happinessthus seduced from the paths of innocence and peace—thus confounded in the toils which were deliberately spread for him, and overwhelmed by the mastering spirit and genius of another ;this man, thus ruined and undone, and made to play a subordi- nate part in this grand drama of guilt and treason, this man is to be called the principal offender; while he, by whom he was thus plunged and steeped in misery, is comparatively innocent -a mere accessary. Sir, neither the human heart, nor the human understanding, will bear a perversion so monstrous and absurd ; so shocking to the soul; so revolting to reason.

61.

ELOQUENT APPEAL IN BEHALF OF GREECE.- -Clæg.

Mr. Chairman,—There is reason to apprehend that a tremendous storm is ready to burst upon our happy country-one which may call into action all our vigor, courage, and resources. Is it wise or prudent, then, sir, in preparing to breast the storm, if it must come, to talk to this nation of its incompetency to repel European aggression, to lower its spirit, to weaken its moral

energy, and to qualify it for easy conquest and base submission! If there be any reality in the dangers which are supposed to encompass us, should we not animate the people, and adjure them to believe, as I do, that our resources are ample; and that we can bring into the field a million of freemen ready to exhaust their last drop of blood, and to spend their last cent in the defense of the country, its liberty and its institutions? Sir, are we, if united, to be conquered by all Europe combined ? No, sir, no united nation that resolves to be free, can be conquered. And has it come to this? Are we so humble, so low, so debased, that we dare not express our sympathy for suffering Greece; that we dare not articulate our detestation of the brutal excesses of which she has been the bleeding victim, lest we might offend one or more of their imperial and royal majesties ? Are we so mean, so base, so despicable, that we may not attempt to express our horror, utter our indignation, at the most brutal and atrocious war that ever stained earth or

shocked high heaven; at the ferocious deeds of a savage and infuriated soldiery, stimulated and urged on by the clergy of a fanatical and inimical religion, and rioting in all the excesses of blood and butchery, at the mere details of which the heart sickens and recoils ?

But, sir, it is not for Greece alone that I desire to see the measure adopted. It will give her but little support, and that purely of a moral kind. It is principally for America, for the credit and character of our common country, for our own unsullied name, that I hope to see it pass.

What

appearance, Mr. Chairman, or the page of history, would a record like this exhibit ? “ In the month of January, in the year of our Lord and Savior 1824, while all European Christendom beheld with cold and unfeeling indifierence, the unexampled wrongs and inexpressible misery of Christian Greece, a proposition was made in the

congress of the United States, almost the sole, the last, the greatest depository of human hope and freedom, the representatives of a gallant nation, containing a million of freemen ready to fly to arms, while the people of that nation were spontaneously expressing its deep-toned feeling, and the whole continent, by one simultaneous emotion, was rising and solemnly and anxiously supplicating and invoking high heaven to spare and succor Greece, and to invigorate her arms, in her glorious cause, while temples and senate-houses were alike resounding with one burst of generous and holy sympathy,—in the year

of our Lord and Savior, tlaat Savior of Greece and of ns--a proposition was offered in the American congress to send a messenger to Greece, to inquire into her state and condition, with a kind expression of our good wishes and our sympathies—and it was rejected !” Go home, if you can; go home, if you dare, to your constituents, and tell them that you voted it down. Meet, if you can, the appalling countenance of those who sent you here, and tell them that you shrunk from the declaration of your own sentiments :—that you cannot tell how, but that some unknown dread, some indescribable apprehension, some indefinable danger, drove you from your purpose :—that the spectres of scimitars, and crowns, and crescents, gleamed before you, and alarmed you :-and that you suppressed all the noble feel ings prompted by religion, by liberty, by national independence, and by humanity. I cannot, sir, bring myself to believe that such will be the feelings of a majority of this committee. But, for myself, though every friend of the cause should desert it, and I be left to stand alone with the gentleman from Massachusetts, I will give to his resolution the poor sanction of my unqualified approbation

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