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NLY in broken gleams and partial light has the sun of Liberty yet beamed among men, yet all progress hath she called forth.

Liberty came to a race crouching under Egyptian whips, and led them forth from the House of Bondage She hardened them in the desert and made of them a race of conquerors. The free spirit

of the Mosaic law took their thinkers up to heights where they beheld the unity of God, and inspired their poets with strains that yet phrase the highest exaltations of thought.

Liberty dawned on thePhoenician coast and ships passed the Pillars of

Hercules to plow

the unknown seaso She broke in partial light on Greece, and marble grew to shapes of ideal beauty, words became the instru

that glorified the Elizabethan age. It was the spirit that brought a crowned tyrant to the block that planted here the seed of a mighty tree. It was the energy of ancient freedom that, the moment it had gained unity, made Spain the mightiest power of the world, only to fall to the lowest depths of weakness when tyranny succeeded liberty. See, in France, all intellectual vigor dying under the tyranny of the seventeenth century to revive in splendor as Liberty awoke in the eighteenth, and on the enfranchisement

Bright Star! would I were steadfast as

thou art

Not in lone splendor hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priest-like task Of pure ablution round earth's human


Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and the


No-yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

"Last Sonnet,” by John Keats

ments of subtlest thought, and against the scanty militia of all free cities the countless hosts of the Great King broke like surges against a rock. She cast her beams on the four-acre farms of Italian husbandmen, and born of her strength a power came forth that conquered the world! She glinted from shields of German warriors, and Augustus wept his legions. Out of the night that followed her eclipse, her slanting rays fell again on free cities, and a lost learning revived, modern civilization began, a new world was unveiled; and as Liberty grew so grew art, wealth, power, knowledge and refinement so do

In the history of every nation we may read the same truth. It was the strength born of Magna Charta that won Crecy and Agincourt. It was the revival of Liberty from the despotism of the Tudors

of the French peasants in the great revolution, basing strength that has the wonderful in our time laughed strength that has

What Liberty

at disaster.

shall do for the nation that fully accepts and loyally cherishes her, the wondrous inventions, which are the marked features of

this century, give us but a hint

A hundred years have passed since the fast friend of American liberty-the great Earl Chatham- -rose to make his last appeal for the preservation, on the basis of justice, of that English-speaking empire, in which he saw the grandest possibility of the future. Is it too soon to hope that the future may hold the realization of his vision in a nobler form than even he imagined, and that it may be the mission of this Republic to unite all the nations of English speech, whether they grow beneath the Northern Star or Southern Cross, in a league which by insuring justice, promoting peace, and liberating commerce, will be the forerunner of a world-wide federation that will make war the possibility of a past age, and turn to works of usefulness the enormous forcesnow dedicated to destruc

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dreamers? One brought to the world the
message that it might be reality. But
they crucified him between two thieves.

Is this the dream of IT has been thought a considerable

Not till it accepts that message can the world have peace. Lock over the history of the past. What is it but a record of the woes inflicted by man on man, of wrong producing wrong, and crime fresh crime? It must be so till justice is acknowledged and liberty is law 90

Who is Liberty that we should doubt
her; that we should set bounds to her,
and say,
"Thus far shalt thou come and
no farther!" Is she not peace? is she
not prosperity? is she not progress? nay,
is she not the goal towards which all
progress strives?

Not here; but yet she cometh! Saints
have seen her in their visions; seers have
seen her in their trance. To heroes has
she spoken, and their hearts were strong;
to martyrs, and the flames were cool!
She is not here, but yet she cometh.
Lo! her feet are on the mountains-the
call of her clarions ring on every breeze;
the banners of her dawning fret the sky!
Who will hear her as she calleth; who
will bid her come and welcome? Who will
turn to her? who will speak for her? who
will stand for her while she yet hath
need?-Henry George.


F a friend of mine.

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gave a feast, and did not invite me to it, I should not mind a bit. . . . Buf if. a friend of mine had a sorrow and refused to allow me to share it, I should feel it most bitterly. If he shut the doors of the house of mourning against me, I would move back again and again and beg to be admitted, so that I might share in what I was entitled to share. If he thought me unworthy, unfit to weep with him, I should feel it as the most poignant humiliation, as the most terrible mode for which disgrace could be inflicted on me... he who can look on the loveliness of the world and share its sorrow, and realize something of the wonder of both, is in immediate contact with divine things, and has got as near to God's secret as any one can get.-Oscar Wilde.

advance towards establishing the principles of freedom to say, that government is a compact between those who govern and those who are governed: but this can not be true, because it is putting the effect before the cause; for as man must have existed before governments existed, there necessarily was a time when governments did not exist, and consequently there could originally exist no governors to form such a compact with.

The fact therefore must be that the individuals themselves, each in his own personal and sovereign right, entered into a compact with each other to produce a government: and this is the only mode in which governments have a right to arise, and the only principle on which they have a right to exist.

-Thomas Paine.

Time to me is so precious that with great difficulty can I steal one hour in eight days, either to satisfy myself or to gratify my friends.-John Knox.

HEY that love beyond the world can not be separated by it. Death can not kill what never dies.

Nor can spirits ever be divided, that love and live in the same divine principle, the root and record, of their friendship

Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still...

This is the comfort of friends, that though they may be said to die, yet their friendship and society are, in the best sense, ever present because immortal.-William Penn.

Man can not degrade woman without himself falling into degradation; he can not elevate her without at the same time elevating himself.

-Alexander Walker.

However dull a woman may be, she will understand all there is in love; however intelligent a man may be, he will never know but half of it.-Madame Fée.

HAT Nature is always right, is an assertion, artistically, as untrue, as it is one whose truth is universally taken for granted. Nature is very rarely right, to such an extent even, that it might almost be said that Nature is usually wrong: that is to say, the condition of things that shall bring about the perfection of harmony worthy a picture is rare, and not common at all.

This would seem, to even the most intelligent, a doctrine almost blasphemous. So incorporated with our education has the supposed aphorism become, that its belief is held to be part of our moral being, and the words themselves have, in our ear, the ring of religion.

Still, seldom does Nature succeed in producing a picture Ꮽ Ꮽ

** * How little this is understood, and how dutifully the casual in Nature is accepted as sublime, may be gath

ered from the unlimited admiration daily produced by a very foolish sunset.

working man and the cultured one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her masterher son in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.

In the dark womb where I began
My mother's life made me a man.
Through all the months of human birth
Her beauty fed my common earth,
I can not see, nor breathe, nor stir,
But through the death of some of her.
Down in the darkness of the grave,
She can not see the life she gave.
For all her love, she can not tell
Whether I use it ill or well,
Nor knock at dusty doors to find
Her beauty dusty in the mind.

If the grave's gates could be undone,
She would not know her little son,
I am so grown. If we should meet,
She would pass by me in the street,
Unless my soul's face let her see
My sense of what she did for me.

What have I done to keep in mind
My debt to her and womankind?
What woman's happier life repays
Her for those months of wretched days?
For all my mouthless body leeched
Ere Birth's releasing hell was reached?

What have I done, or tried, or said
In thanks to that dear woman, dead?
Men triumph over woman still,
And man's lust roves the world untamed.
Men trample woman's rights at will,
O grave, keep shut lest. I be shamed.
"C. L. M.," by John Masefield.

And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses are palaces in the night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairy-land is before usthen the wayfarer hastens home; the

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Through his brain, as through the last alembic, is distilled the refined essence of that thought which began with the Gods, and which they left him to carry out. Set apart by them to complete their works, he produces that wondrous thing called the masterpiece, which surpasses in perfection all that they have contrived in what is called Nature; and the Gods stand by and marvel, and perceive how far away more beautiful is the Venus of Melos than was their own Eve.-Whistler.


sort of fever in the mind, which

ever leaves us weaker than it found us.
It, more than any thing, deprives us
of the use of our judgment; for it raises
a dust very hard to see through.

It may not unfitly be termed the mob of the man, that commits a riot upon his reason. -William Penn.

A man is an animal that writes.-Homer.


E is fallen! We may now pause before that splendid prodigy, which towered among us like some ancient ruin, whose frown terrified the glance its magnificence attracted

Grand, gloomy, and peculiar, he sat upon the throne, a sceptered hermit, wrapped in the solitude of his own originality o

A mind, bold, independent, and decisive -a will, despotic in its dictates-an energy that distanced expedition, and a conscience pliable to every touch of interest, marked the outline of this extraordinary character-the most extraordinary, perhaps, that, in the annals of this world, ever rose, or reigned, or fell

Flung into life, in the midst of a revolution that quickened every energy of a people who acknowledged no superior, he commenced his course, a stranger by birth, and a scholar by charity! With no friend but his sword, and no fortune but his talents, he rushed into the lists where rank, and wealth, and genius had arrayed themselves, and competition fled from him as from the glance of destiny. He knew no motive but interesthe acknowledged no criterion but success-he worshiped no God but ambition, and with an Eastern devotion he knelt at the shrine of his idolatry. Subsidiary to this, there was no opinion that he did not promulgate: in the hope of a dynasty, he upheld the crescent; for the sake of a divorce, he bowed before the Cross: the orphan of St. Louis, he became the adopted child of the Republic; and with a paricidal ingratitude, on the ruins both of the throne and the tribune, he reared the throne of despotism.

A professed Catholic, he imprisoned the pope; a pretended patriot, he impoverished the country; and in the name of Brutus, he grasped without remorse, and wore without shame, the diadem of the Cæsars!

Through this pantomime of his policy, fortune played the clown to his caprices. At his touch, crowns crumbled, beggars reigned, systems vanished, the wildest theories took the color of his whim, and all that was venerable, and all that was

novel, changed places with the rapidity of a drama. Even apparent defeat assumed the appearance of victory-his flight from Egypt confirmed his destinyruin itself only elevated him to empire.

But if this fortune was great, his genius was transcendent; decision flashed upon his counsels; and it was the same to decide and to perform. To inferior intellects, his combinations appeared perfectly impossible, his plans perfectly impracticable; but, in his hands, simplicity marked their development, and success vindicated their adoption.

His person partook the character of his mind-if the one never yielded in the cabinet, the other never bent in the field.

Nature had no obstacles that he did not surmount-space no opposition that he did not spurn; and whether amid Alpine rocks, Arabian sands, or polar snows, he seemed proof against peril, and empowered with ubiquity! The whole continent of Europe trembled at beholding the audacity of his designs, and the miracle of their execution. Skepticism bowed to the prodigies of his performance; romance assumed the air of history; nor was there aught too incredible for belief, or too fanciful for expectation, when the world saw a subaltern of Corsica waving his imperial flag over her most ancient capitals. All the visions of antiquity became common places in his contemplation; kings were his people -nations were his outposts; and he disposed of courts, and crowns, and camps, and churches, and cabinets, as if they were the titular dignitaries of the chessboard!

Amid all these changes he stood immutable as adamant. It mattered little whether in the field or the drawing-room -with the mob or the levee-wearing the jacobin bonnet or the iron crownbanishing a Braganza, or espousing a Hapsburg-dictating peace on a raft to the Czar of Russia, or contemplating defeat at the gallows of Leipsic-he was still the same military despot! Cradled in the camp, he was to the last hour the darling of the army; and whether in the camp or the cabinet, he never forsook a friend or forgot a favor.

Of all his soldiers, not one abandoned him, till affection was useless; and their first stipulation was for the safety of their favorites

and a Tyrant-a Christian and an Infidel -he was, through all his vicissitudes, the same stern, impatient, inflexible original -the same mysterious, incomprehensible self-the man without a model, and without a shadow.

His fall, like his life, baffled all specula

I write. He sits beside my chair,

And scribbles, too, in hushed delight,
He dips his pen, in charmed air:

What is it he pretends to write?

He toils and toils; the paper gives

tion. In short, his whole history was like a dream to the world, and no man can tell how or why he was awakened from the reverie.

They knew well, if he was lavish of them,
he was prodigal of himself; and that if he
exposed them to peril, he repaid them
with plunder. For
the soldier, he sub-
sidized every peo-
ple; to the people
he made even pride
pay tribute The
victorious veteran
glittered with his
gains; and the capi-
tal, gorgeous with
the spoils of art,
became the minia-
ture metropolis of
the universe. In this
wonderful combi-
nation, his affecta-
tion of literature
must not be omit-
ted. The jailer of
the Press, he affect-
ed the patronage
of letters-the pro-
scriber of books, he
encouraged philos-
ophy-the perse-
cutor of authors,
and the murderer
of printers, he yet
pretended to the
protection of learn-
ing the assassin
of Palm, the silen-
cer of De Stael, and
the denouncer of
Kotzebue, he was
the friend of David,
the benefactor of
De Lille, and sent

No clue to aught he thinks. What then? Such is a faint

His little heart is glad; he lives

The poems that he can not pen.

Strange fancies throng that baby brain,
What grave, sweet looks! What earnest

He stops-reflects—and now again
His unrecording pen he plies.

It seems a satire on myself,—

These dreamy nothings scrawled in air,
This thought, this work! Oh, tricksy elf,
Wouldst drive the father to despair?

Despair! Ah, no; the heart, the mind

Presists in hoping-schemes and strives
That there may linger with our kind
Some memory of our little lives.

Beneath his rock in the early world

Smiling the naked hunter lay,
And sketched on horn the spear he hurled
The urus which he made his prey.

Like him I strive in hope my rhymes

May keep my name a little while-
O child, who knows how many times
We two have made the angels smile!
"A New Poet," by William Canton

his academic prize to the philosopher of England se se

Such a medley of contradictions, and at the same time such an individual consistency, were never united in the same character. A Royalist-a Republican and an Emperor-a Mohammedan-a Catholic and a Patron of the Synagogue-a Subaltern and a Sovereign-a Traitor

and feeble picture of Napoleon Bonaparte, the first (and it is to be hoped the last) emperor of the French. That he has done much evil there is little doubt; that he has been the origin of much good there is just as little. Through his means, intentional or not, Spain, Portugal, and France

have arisen to the blessings of a free constitution; superstition has found her grave in the ruins of the Inquisition and the feudal system, with its whole train of tyrannic satellites, has fled forever Kings may learn from him that their safest study, as well as their noblest, is the interest of the people; the people are taught by him that there is no despotism, so stupendous against which they have not a resource; and to those who would rise upon the ruins of both, he is a living lesson, that if ambition can raise them from the lowest station, it can also prostrate them from the highest.-Charles Phillips.

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