THE GLORY OF GREAT BRITAIN.

Even so doth God protect us if we be
Virtuous and wisę. Winds blow and waters roll,
Strength to the brave, and Power and Deity;
Yet in themselves are nothing! One decree
Spake laws to them, and said that by the soul
Only the Nations shall be great and free.

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WORDS WORTH.

XXII. THE GLORY OF GREAT BRITAIN.

"THE objects of the patriot are, that his countrymen should, as far as circumstances permit, enjoy what the Creator designed for the enjoyment of animals endowed with reason, and of course that they should have it in their power to develope those faculties which were given them to be developed. He would do his best that every one of his countrymen should possess whatever all men may and should possess, and that a sufficient number should be enabled and encouraged to acquire those excellences which, though not necessary or possible for all men, are yet to all men useful and honourable. He knows that patriotism itself is a necessary link in the golden chain of our affections and virtues, and turns away with indignant scorn from the false philosophy or mistaken religion which would persuade him that cosmopolitism is nobler than nationality, the human race a sublimer object of love than a people; and that Plato, Luther, Newton, and their equals, formed themselves neither in the market nor the senate, but in the world, and for all men of all ages. True! But where, and among whom are these giant exceptions produced? In the wide empires of Asia, where millions of human beings acknowledge no other bond but that of a common slavery, and are distinguished on the map but by a name which themselves perhaps never heard, or hearing, abhor? No! in a circle defined by human affections, the first firm sod within which becomes sacred beneath the quickened step of the returning citizen;--here, where the powers and interests of men spread without confusion through a common sphere, like the vibrations propagated in the air by a single voice, distinct, yet coherent, and all uniting to express one thought and the same feeling;-here, where even the common soldier dares to force a passage for his comrades by gathering up the bayonets of the enemy into his own breast, because his country expected every man to do his duty,' and this not after he has been hardened by habit, but as probably in his first battle; not reckless or hopeless, but braving death from a keenest sensibility to those blessings which make life dear, to those qualities which render himself worthy to enjoy them;-here, where the royal crown is loved and worshipped as a glory around the sainted head of freedom;where the rustic at his plough whistles with equal enthusiasm, God save the king,' and 'Britons never shall be slaves,' or, perhaps, leaves one thistle unweeded in his garden, because it is the symbol of his dear native land;-here, from within this circle defined, as light by shade, or rather as light within light, by its intensity, here alone, and only within these magic circles, rise up the awful spirits, whose

words are oracles for mankind, whose love embraces all countries, and whose voice sounds through all ages! Here, and here only, may we confidently expect those mighty minds to be reared and ripened, whose names are naturalized in foreign lands, the sure fellow-travellers of civilization, and yet render their own countrymen dearer and more proudly dear to their own country. This is indeed cosmopolitism, at once the nurseling and the nurse of patriotic affection. This, and this alone is genuine philanthropy, which, like the olive tree, sacred to concord and to wisdom, fattens, not exhausts, the soil from which it sprang, and in which it remains rooted. It is feebleness only which cannot be generous without injustice, or just without ceasing to be generous." -Coleridge.

HAPPY Britannia! where the Queen of Arts'
Inspiring vigour, Liberty, abroad

Walks, unconfin'd even to thy farthest cots,
And scatters plenty with unsparing hand.

Rich is thy soil, and merciful thy clime;
Thy streams unfailing in the summer's drought;
Unmatch'd thy guardian oaks ; thy valleys float
With golden waves ;3 and on thy mountains, flocks
Bleat numberless; while, roving round their sides,
Bellow the blackening herds in lusty droves.
Beneath, thy meadows glow, and rise unequall'd
Against the mower's scythe. On every hand
Thy villas shine. Thy country teems with wealth;
And property assures it to the swain,
Pleas'd, and unwearied in his guarded toil.

Full are thy cities with the sons of art;
And trade and joy, in every busy street,
Mingling are heard: even Drudgery himself,
As at the car he sweats, or dusty hews

The palace stone, looks gay. Thy crowded ports,
Where rising masts an endless prospect yield,
With labour burn, and echo to the shouts
Of hurried sailor, as he hearty waves
His last adieu, and loosening every sheet,
Resigns the spreading vessel to the wind.

Bold, firm, and graceful, are thy generous youth,
By hardship sinew'd, and by danger fir'd,
Scattering the nations where they go; and first
Or on the listed plain, or stormy seas.
Mild are thy glories too, as o'er the plains
Of thriving peace thy thoughtful sires preside;
In genius, and substantial learning, high;
For every virtue, every worth, renown'd;

THE GLORY OF GREAT BRITAIN.

Sincere, plain hearted, hospitable, kind;
Yet, like the mustering thunder, when provok'd,
The dread of tyrants, and the sole resource
Of those that under grim oppression groan.
Thy sons of glory many! Alfred thine,
In whom the splendour of heroic war,
And more heroic peace, when govern'd well,
Combine; whose hallow'd name the virtuous saint,
And his own muses love; the best of kings!
With him thy Edwards and thy Henrys shine,
Names dear to fame; the first who deep impressed
On haughty Gaul the terror of thy arms,
That awes her genius still. In Statesmen thou,
And patriots, fertile. Thine a steady More,
Who, with a generous though mistaken zeal,
Withstood a brutal tyrant's useful rage,
Like Cato firm, like Aristides just,
Like rigid Cincinnatus nobly poor,

A dauntless soul erect, who smiled on death.
Frugal, and wise, a Walsingham is thine;
A Drake, who made thee mistress of the deep,
And bore thy name in thunder round the world.
Then flam'd thy spirit high; but who can speak
The numerous worthies of the maiden reign ?7
In Raleigh, mark their ev'ry glory mix'd;
Raleigh the scourge of Spain! whose breast with all
The sage, the patriot, and the hero burn'd,
Nor sunk his vigour when a coward reign
The warrior fetter'd, and at last resigned,
To glut the vengeance of a vanquished foe.
Then, active still and unrestrain'd, his mind
Explored the vast extent of ages past,
And with his prison hours enrich'd the world;
Yet found no times, in all the long research,
So glorious, or so base, as those he proved,
In which he conquer'd and in which he bled.
Nor can the Muse the gallant Sidney pass,
The plume of war! with early laurels crown'd,
The lover's myrtle and the poet's bay.
A Hampden too is thine, illustrious land!
Wise, strenuous, firm, of unsubmitting soul.
Bring every sweetest flower, and let me strew
The grave where Russell lies; whose temper'd blood,
With calmest cheerfulness for thee resign'd,

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Stain'd the sad annals of a giddy reign ;10
Aiming at lawless power, though meanly sunk
In loose inglorious luxury. With him
His friend the British Cassius," fearless bled;
Of high determin'd spirit, roughly brave,
By ancient learning to th' enlighten'd love
Of ancient freedom warm'd. Fair thy renown
In awful sages and in noble bards;

Soon as the light of dawning Science spread
Her orient ray, and wak'd the Muses' song.
Thine is a Bacon; him for studious shade
Kind Nature form'd, deep, comprehensive, clear,
Exact, and elegant, in one rich soul,
Plato, the Stagyrite, and Tully join'd.
The great deliverer he! who from the gloom
Of cloister'd monks, and jargon-teaching schools,
Led forth the true Philosophy, there long
Held in the magic chain of words and forms,
And definitions void: he led her forth,
Daughter of heaven! that slow-ascending still,
Investigating sure the chain of things,

With radiant finger points to heaven again.
Why need I name thy Boyle, whose pious search,
Amid the dark recesses of his works,

The great Creator sought? And why thy Locke,
Who made the whole internal world his own?
Let Newton, pure intelligence, whom God
To mortals lent to trace his boundless works
From laws sublimely simple, speak thy fame
In all philosophy. For lofty sense,
Creative fancy, and inspection keen

Through the deep windings of the human heart,
Is not wild Shakspeare thine and Nature's boast?
Is not each great, each amiable Muse

Of classic ages in thy Milton met?
A genius universal as his theme;
Astonishing as chaos, as the bloom

Of blowing Eden fair, as heaven sublime.
Nor shall my verse that elder bard forget,
The gentle Spenser, Fancy's pleasing son:
Who, like a copious river, pour'd his song
O'er all the mazes of enchanted ground:
Nor thee, his ancient master, laughing sage,
Chaucer, whose native manners-painting verse,

THE GERMAN RHINE.

Well moraliz'd, shines through the gothic cloud
Of time and language o'er thy genius thrown.

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THOMSON.

1. What Queen of Arts? Justify the ness, and cleanliness, that eminently epithet.

2. Why guardian?

3. Float with golden waves, what is the meaning of this, and is the expres sion a happy one?

4. "A peculiar feature in the physiognomy of England is the number and magnificence of the seats of the nobility and gentry. These superh mansions, many of which are venerable for their antiquity, and all of which are surrounded with fine woods and grounds, give to the country an appearance of age, security, and wealth, that we should in vain look for any where else. The farm houses and cottages have mostly also a substantial, comfortable look; and evince that taste for rural beauty, neat

distinguishes their occupiers."-M'Culloch's Geographical Dictionary.

5. What part of speech is saint here? and why his own muses in the succeeding line?

6. What historical facts are here referred to? and, in particular, show that the brutal tyrant's rage was useful?

7. What is meant by the maiden reign? 8. What foe?

9. In what sense is proved here used?

10. Whose reign is here referred to? and justify the epithet giddy.

11. By the British Cassius is meant Algernon Sydney.

12. Explain fully the meaning of the last three lines.

XXIII. THE GERMAN RHINE.

"ONCE during the morning a band of apprentices, with knapsacks, passed by, singing The Rhine! the Rhine! a blessing on the Rhine! O, the pride of the German heart in this noble river! And right it is, for of all the rivers of this beautiful earth there is none so beautiful as this. There is hardly a league of its whole course, from its cradle in the snowy Alps to its grave in the sands of Holland, which boasts not its peculiar charms. If I were a German I would be proud of it too; and of the clustering grapes that hang about its temples, as it reels onward through vineyards, in a triumphal march, like Bacchus, crowned and drunken."-Longfellow's Hyperion.

THEY shall not-shall not have it,
Our free-born German Rhine,
Though hoarse as famished ravens
They round it croak and whine.
So long its winding current
Shall wear its dark green vest;
So long as plashing boat-oar
Shall cleave its rippling breast.

They shall not—shall not have it,
Our free-born German Rhine,
So long as hearts are gladden'd by
Its spirit-stirring wine;

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