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Ex. CLXXV.-THE GAMBLER'S WIFE.

DR. COATS,

DARK is the night! how dark! no light! no fire!
Cold on the hearth the last faint sparks expire!
Shivering she watches by the cradle side,
For him who pledged her love-last year a bride!
"Hark! 'tis his footstep!-'tis past:
: 'tis gone;
Tick!-tick! how wearily the time crawls on!
Why should he leave me thus? he once was kind!
And I believed 't would last-how mad!-how blind.

"Rest thee, my babe!-rest on!-'tis hunger's cry!
Sleep!-for there is no food!-the fount is dry!
Famine and cold their wearying work have done,
My heart must break!—and thou!"-The clock strikes one.
"Hush! 'tis the dice box! Yes, he's there, he's there,
For this!-for this, he leaves me to despair!

Leaves love! leaves truth! his wife! his child! for what? The wanton's smile-the villain-and the sot!

"Yet I'll not curse him! no! 'tis all in vain! 'Tis long to wait, but sure he'll come again! And I could starve and bless him, but for you,

My child!—his child!—Oh, fiend!" The clock strikes two.

"Hark! how the sign board creaks! the blast howls by!
Moan! moan! a dirge swells through the cloudy sky!"
Ha! 'tis his knock! he comes!-he comes once more!"
'Tis but the lattice flaps! thy hope is o'er!

"Can he desert me thus? he knows I stay
Night after night in loneliness, to pray
For his return-and yet he sees no tear!
No! no! it can not be. He will be here.

"Nestle more closely, dear one, to my heart!

Thou'rt cold! thou 'rt freezing! but we will not part!
Husband!--I die!-father!-it is not he!

Oh God! protect my child!" The clock strikes three.

They're gone! they're gone! the glimmering spark hath sped! The wife and child are numbered with the dead!

On the cold hearth outstretched in solemn rest,
The babe lay frozen on its mother's breast!
The gambler came at last-but all was o'er-
Dead silence reigned around-the clock struck four!

349

Ex. CLXXVI-BLESSINGS OF EDUCATION.

PHILLIPS.

No doubt, you have all personally considered-no doubt, you have all personally experienced, that of all the blessings which it has pleased Providence to allow us to cultivate, there is not one which breathes a purer fragrance, or bears a heavenlier aspect than education. It is a companion which no misfortune can depress, no clime destroy, no enemy alienate, no despotism enslave; at home a friend, abroad an introduction, in solitude a solace, in society an ornament; it chastens vice, it guides virtue, it gives at once a grace and government to genius. Without it, what is man? A splendid slave! a reasoning savage, vacillating between the dignity of an intelligence derived from God, and the degradation of passions participated with brutes; and in the accident of their alternate ascendency, shuddering at the terrors of an hereafter, or embracing the horrid hope of annihilation. What is this wondrous world of his residence?

"A mighty maze, and all without a plan,"

a dark and desolate and dreary cavern, without wealth, or ornament, or order. But light up within it the torch of knowledge, and how wondrous the transition! The seasons change, the atmosphere breathes, the landscape lives, earth unfolds its fruits, ocean rolls in its magnificence, the heavens display their constellated canopy, and the grand animated spectacle of nature rises revealed before him, its varieties regulated, and its mysteries resolved! The phenomena which bewilder, the prejudices which debase, the superstitions which enslave, vanish before education. Like the holy symbol which blazed upon the cloud before the hesitating Constantine, if man follow but its precepts, purely, it will not only lead him to the victories of this world, but open the very portals of omnipotence for his admission. Cast your eye over the monuinental map of ancient grandeur, once studded with the stars of empire, and the splendors of philosophy. What

erected the little state of Athens into a powerful commonwealth, placing in her hand the scepter of legislation, and wreathing round her brow the imperishable chaplet of literary fame? What extended Rome, the haunt of banditti, into universal empire? What animated Sparta with that high, unbending, adamantine courage, which conquered nature herself, and has fixed her, in the sight of future ages, a model of public virtue, and a proverb of national independence? What but those wise public institutions which strengthened their minds with early application, informed their infancy with the principles of action, and sent them into the world, too vigilant to be deceived by its calms, and too vigorous to be shaken by its whirlwinds!

Ex. CLXXVII.-MR. PEPPERAGE'S PERORATION.

THE Union! Inspiring theme! How shall I find words to describe its momentous magnificence and its beatific luster? The Union!-it is the ark of our safety!-the palladium of our liberties!-the safeguard of our happiness!and the ægis of our virtues! In the Union we live, and move, and go ahead. It watches over us at our birth-it fans us in our cradles-it accompanies us to the district school-it gives us our victuals in due season-it selects our wives for us from "America's fair daughters," and it does a great many other things; to say nothing of putting us to sleep sometimes, and keeping the flies from our innocent

repose.

While the Union lasts, we have the most reasonable prospect of plenty of fodder, with occasional drinks. By its beneficent energies, however, should the present supply give out, we shall rise superior to the calculations of an ordinary and narrow prudence, and take in Cuba, Hayti, and Mexico, and such parts of all contiguous islands as may offer prospects for an advantageous investment.

Palsied be the arm, then, and blistered the tongue, and humped the back, and broken the legs, and eviscerated the stomach, of every person who dares to think, or even dream of harming it! May the heaviest curses of time fall upon his scoundrely soul! May his juleps curdle in his mouth! May he smoke none but New Orleans tobacco! May his family be perpetually ascending the Mississippi in a steam

boat! May his own grandmother disown him! And may the suffrages of his fellow-citizens pursue him like avenging furies, till he is driven howling into Congress. For oh! my dear, dear friends-my beloved fellow-citizens,-who can foretell the agonies, or the sorrows, or the blights, and the anguish, and the despair, and the black eyes, and the bloody noses, that would follow, upon the dispersion of our too happy, happy family.

The accursed myrmidons of despotism, with gnashing teeth and blood-stained eyes, would rush at large over this planet. They would lap the crimson gore of the most wealthy and respectable citizens. The sobs of females, and the screams of children, would mingle with the bark of dogs and the crash of falling columns. A universal and horrid night would mantle the skies, and one by one, the strong pillars of the universe go crumbling into ruin, amid the gleam of bowie-knives and the lurid glare of exploding steamboats!

Ex. CLXXVIII-CULTIVATION OF ORATORY.

ORVILLE DEWEY.

THE labors requisite to form the public speaker, are by no means duly appreciated. An absurd idea prevails among our scholars, that the finest productions of the mind are the fruits of hasty impulse, the unfoldings of a sudden thought, the brief visitations of a fortunate hour or evening, the flashings of intuition, or the gleamings of fancy. Genius is often compared to lightning from the cloud, or the sudden bursting out of a secret fountain. And eloquence is regarded as if it were a kind of inspiration. When a man has made a happy effort, he is next possessed with an absurd ambition to have it thought that it cost him nothing. He will say, perhaps, that it was a three hours' work. Now it is not enough to maintain that nothing could be more injurious to our youth than this way of thinking; for the truth is, that nothing can be more false. The mistake lies, in confounding, with the mere arrangement of thoughts, or the manual labor of putting them on paper, the long previous preparation of mind, the settled habits of thought. It has taken but three hours, perhaps, to compose an admirable piece of poetry, or a fine speech; but teh reflections of three years, or of thirty, may have been tending to that result.

To give the noblest thoughts the noblest expression; to stand up in the pure light of reason, or to create a new atmosphere, as it were, for intellectual vision; to put on all the glories of imagination, as a garment; to penetrate the soul, and to make men feel as if they were themselves new creatures, to make them conscious of new powers and a new being; to exercise in the loftiest measure, the only glorious and godlike sway,-that over willing minds; to fill the ear, the eye, the inmost soul, with sounds, and images, and holy visions of beauty and grandeur; to make truth and justice, to make wisdom and virtue and religion more lovely and majestic things than men had ever thought them before; to delight as well as to convince; to charm, to fascinate, to win, to arouse, to calm, to terrify, to overwhelm,-this is the work of eloquence; and it is a glorious work.

The great object of all the liberal arts is to exhibit the mind; to exhibit character, thought, feeling, in their various aspects. In this consists all their power and sublimity. For this, the painter spreads upon the dull canvas the breathing forms of life; the sculptor causes the marble to speak; the architect models the fair and majestic structure, with sublimity enthroned in its dome, with beauty shaped in its columns, and glory written upon its walls; and the poet builds his lofty rhyme; and the eloquent in music, orders his movement and combination of sweet sounds. But, of this mind, the human frame is the appointed instrument. It was designed for this end. For it could have answered all the purposes of physical existence, without any of its present grace and beauty. It was made with no more obvious intent, than to be the expression of mind, the organ of the soul, the vehicle of thought. And when all its powers are put in requisition for this purpose, the voice with all its thrilling tones; the eye, "through which, as a window, the soul darts forth its light" the lips, on which "grace is poured;" the whole glowing countenance, the whole breathing frame, which, in their ordinary forms, can express more than the majesty of an Apollo, more than the agony of an Laocoon;-when every motion speaks, every lineament is more than the written line of genius, every muscle swells with the inspiration of high thoughts, every nerve is swayed to the movings of some mighty theme; what instrument of music, what glories of the canvas, can equal it? Eloquence is the combination of all arts, and it excels them all in their separate powers. Nor is it confined to the mere gratification of taste. The great

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