For freedom if thy Hampden fought, for peace if Falkland fell,-
For and love if Bentham wrote, and Burns sang wildly well,
peace
Let Knowledge, strongest of the strong, bid hate and discord cease
Be this the burden of her song, Love, Liberty, and Peace!

Then, Father, will the Nations all, as with the sound of seas,
In universal festival, sing words of joy, like these:

Let each love all, and all be free, receiving as they give;

Lord! Jesus died for Love and Thee! So let Thy children live!

67 WHAT'S HALLOWED GROUND?-Thomas Campbell. Born, 1777; died, 1844. WHAT 's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod

Its Maker meant not should be trod

By man, the image of his God,
Erect and free,

Unscourged by Superstition's rod

To bow the knee?

What hallows ground where heroes sleep?
"T is not the sculptured piles you heap:
In dews that Heavens far distant weep,
Their turf may bloom;

Or Genii twine beneath the deep
Their coral tomb.

But strew his ashes to the wind,

Whose sword or voice has saved mankind,

And is he dead, whose glorious mind

Lifts thine on high?

To live in hearts we leave behind,

Give that; and welcome War to brace
Her drums! and rend Heaven's welkin space

The colors planted face to face,

The charging cheer,

Though Death's pale horse lead on the chase,
Shall still be dear!

And place our trophies where men kneel
To Heaven! - But Heaven rebukes my zeal

68. NATURE PROCLAIMS A DEITY.-Chateaubriand. Born, 1769; died, 1848

THERE is a God! The herbs of the valley, the cedars of the mountain, bless Him; the insect sports in His beam; the bird sings Him in the foliage; the thunder proclaims Him in the Heavens; the ocean declares His immensity; man alone has said, there is no God! Unite in thought at the same instant the most beautiful objects in nature. Suppose that you see, at once, all the hours of the day, and all the seasons of the year: a morning of spring, and a morning of autumn; a night bespangled with stars, and a night darkened by clouds; meadows enamelled with flowers; forests hoary with snow; fields gilded by the tints of autumn, then alone you will have a just conception of the universe! While you are

gazing on that sun which is plunging into the vault of the West, another observer admires him emerging from the gilded gates of the East. By what inconceivable power does that aged star, which is sinking fatigued and burning in the shades of the evening, reäppear at the same instant fresh and humid with the rosy dew of the morning? At every hour of the day, the glorious orb is at once rising, resplendent as noon-day, and setting in the west; or, rather, our senses deceive us, and there is, properly speaking, no East or West, no North or South, in the world.

69. WHAT WE OWE TO THE SWORD.-T. S. Grimké. Born, 1778; died, 1834.

To the question, "what have the People ever gained but by Revolution," I answer, boldly, If by Revolution be understood the law of the Sword, Liberty has lost far more than she has ever gained by it. The Sword was the destroyer of the Lycian Confederacy and the Achæan league. The Sword alternately enslaved and disenthralled Thebes and Athens, Sparta, Syracuse and Corinth. The Sword of Rome conquered every other free State, and finished the murder of

liberty in the ancient world, by destroying herself. What but the Sword, in modern times, annihilated the Republics of Italy, the Hanse. atic towns, and the primitive independence of Ireland, Wales and Scotland? What but the Sword partitioned Poland, assassinated the rising liberty of Spain, banished the Huguenots from France, and made Cromwell the master, not the servant, of the People? And what but the Sword of Republican France destroyed the Independence of half of Europe, deluged the continent with tears, devoured its millions upon millions, and closed the long catalogue of guilt, by founding and defending to the last the most powerful, selfish, and insatiable of military despotisms?

The Sword, indeed, delivered Greece from the Persian invaders, expelled the Tarquins from Rome, emancipated Switzerland and Holland, restored the Bruce to his Throne, and brought Charles to the scaffold. And the Sword redeemed the pledge of the Congress of 76, when they plighted to each other "their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor." And yet, what would the redemption of that pledge have availed towards the establishment of our present Government, if the spirit of American institutions had not been both the birthright and the birth-blessing of the Colonies? The Indians, the French, the Spaniards, and even England herself, warred in vain against a People, born and bred in the household, at the domestic altar, of Liberty herself. They had never been slaves, for they were born free. The Sword was a herald to proclaim their freedom, but it neither created nor preserved it. A century and a half had already beheld them free in infancy, free in youth, free in early manhood. Theirs was already the spirit of American institutions; the spirit of Christian freedom, of a temperate, regulated freedom, of a rational civil obedience. For such a People, the Sword, the law of violence, did and could do nothing, but sever the bonds which bound her colonial wards to their unnatural guardian. They redeemed their pledge, Sword in hand; but the Sword left them as it found them, unchanged in character, freemen in thought and in deed, instinct with the immortal spirit of American institutions!

70. ABOU BEN ADHEM.-Leigh Hunt.

ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw within the moonlight of his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold.
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And, to the presence in the room, he said,

"What writest thou?" The vision raised its head,
And, with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, The names of those who love the Lord!"

And is mine one?" asked Abou. 66
- Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spake more low,
But cheerly still; and said "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."
The angel wrote and vanished. The next night

It came again, with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blest;
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest!

71. POLONIUS TO LAERTES. William Shakspeare. Born, 1564; died, 1616. My blessing with you!

And these few precepts in thy memory

Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar :
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in,
Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice;

Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy:
For the apparel oft proclaims the man;

And they in France, of the best rank and station,
Are most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be;

For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all, to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.

72. WHERE IS HE?- Henry Neele. Born, 1798; died, 1823.
"Man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?"

"AND where is he?" Not by the side
Of her whose wants he loved to tend;
Not o'er those valleys wandering wide,
Where, sweetly lost, he oft would wend.
That form beloved he marks no more;
Those scenes admired no more shall see;
Those scenes are lovely as before,

And she as fair, but where is he?

No, no! the radiance is not dim,
That used to gild his favorite hill;
The pleasures that were dear to him
Are dear to life and nature still;
But, ah! his home is not as fair;
Neglected must his garden be;
The lilies droop and wither there,

And seem to whisper, Where is he?

His was the pomp, the crowded hall!
But where is now his proud display?
His riches, honors, pleasures, - all,

Desire could frame; but where are they?
And he, as some tall rock that stands,
Protected by the circling sea,
Surrounded by admiring bands,
Seemed proudly strong,

and where is he?

The church-yard bears an added stone;
The fire-side shows a vacant chair;
Here Sadness dwells, and weeps alone;

And Death displays his banner there!
The life has gone; the breath has fled;
And what has been no more shall be ;
The well-known form, the welcome tread,

O! where are they? And where is he?

73. GROWTH OF INTERNATIONAL SYMPATHIES. - President Wayland.

In many respects, the Nations of Christendom collectively are becoming somewhat analogous to our own Federal Republic. Antiquated distinctions are breaking away, and local animosities are subsiding. The common people of different countries are knowing each other better, esteeming each other more, and attaching themselves to each other by various manifestations of reciprocal good will. It is true, every nation has still its separate boundaries and its individual interests; but the freedom of commercial intercourse is allowing those interests to adjust themselves to each other, and thus rendering the causes of collision of vastly less frequent occurrence. Local questions are becoming of less, and general questions of greater importance. Thanks be to God, men have at last begun to understand the rights and feel for the wrongs of each other! Mountains interposed do not so much make enemies of nations. Let the trumpet of alarm be sounded, and its notes are now heard by every nation, whether of Europe or America. Let a voice borne on the feeblest breeze tell that the rights of man are in danger, and it floats over valley and mountain, across continent and ocean, until it has vibrated on the ear of the remotest dweller in Christendom. Let the arm of Oppression