can enter into no rivalry. To obtain copies of the inscriptions, scarcely legible, and as yet undeciphered, which are found on the sites of ancient ruins, formerly required hours and days of learned labor; they may now be prepared at once by the method of Daguerre. SCHUBERT CLXXVII. THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 1. On the second of July, 1776, the resolution of Independ ence was adopted by the old Congress; and, on the ever-memorable Fourth of July of that year, the Declaration reported by the Committee, with some slight alterations, was agreed to and promulgated. It is now a nation's creed. Let it not be supposed that the measure was carried without opposition. Assaults it did encounter, resistance it did suffer; not from the ene mies only of our country, but from her most sincere friends. The timid were alarmed. The minds of men of ordinary constancy were possessed with doubts and hesitation at this final, this irretrievable step. Heroic courage and patriotism were what the occasion demanded, and what - let us be thankful for it!the occasion found. 2. It was, indeed, a fearful question. At the last moment, when it was about to be put, a celebrated member of the Congress, a gentleman of undoubted patriotism, rose and spoke against the proposed measure. He stated the consequences of it in alarming colors. Silence and doubt ensued. It was then that John Adams, the "pillar of its support," as Mr. Jefferson has styled him, rose in reply. His fervid eloquence silenced every doubt. The question was settled, and the vote of the States was unanimous. In what language he made this last and powerful appeal, we may judge from the triumphant burst of patriotic exultation and pious emotion with which he wrote to a friend on the following day. 3. "Yesterday the greatest question was decided that was ever debated in America; and greater, perhaps, never was or will be decided by men. A resolution was passed, without one dissenting colony, that these United States are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States.' The day is passed. The Fourth of July, 1776, will be a memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance by solemn acts of devotion to Almighty God. 4. "It ought to be solemnized with pomp, shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward forever. You will think me transported with enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the toil, and blood, and treasure, that it will cost to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States; yet, through all the gloom, I can see the rays of light and glory. I can see that the end is worth more than all the means; and that posterity will triumph, although you and I may which, I hope, we shall not." rue, JOHN SERGEANT. CLXXVIII. -- THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS AMONG THEMSELVES. 1. HOPING to reach the camp of the rangers before nightfall, we pushed on until twilight, when we were obliged to halt on the borders of a ravine. The rangers bivouacked under trees, at the bottom of the dell, while we pitched our tent on a rocky knōll near a running stream. The night came on dark and overcast, with flying clouds, and much appearance of rain. The fires of the rangers burnt brightly in the dell, and threw strong masses of light upon the robber-looking groups that were cooking, eating, and drinking, around them. men. 2. To add to the wildness of the scene, several Osage Indians, visitors from the village we had passed, were mingled among the Three of them came and seated themselves by our fire. They watched everything that was going on round them, in silence, and looked like figures of monumental bronze. We gave them food, and, what they most relished, coffee; for the Indians partake in the universal fondness for this beverage, which pervades the West. When they had made their supper, they stretched themselves, side by side, before the fire, and began a low nasal chant, drumming with their hands upon their breasts by way of accompaniment. 3. Their chant seemed to consist of regular staves, every one terminating, not in a melodious cadence, but in the abrupt interjection, huh! uttered almost like a hiccup. The chant related to ourselves, our appearance, our treatment of them, and all that they knew of our plans. This mode of improvising is common throughout the savage tribes; and in this way, with a few simple inflections of the voice, they chant all their exploits in war and hunting, and occasionally indulge in a vein of comic humor and dry satire, to which the Indians appear to me much more prone than is generally imagined. 4. In fact, the Indians that I have had an opportunity of seeing in real life are quite different from those described in poetry. They are by no means the stoics that they are represented; taciturn, unbending, without a tear or a smile. Taciturn they are, it is true, when in company with white men, whose good will they distrust, and whose language they do not understand; but the white man is equally taciturn under like circumstances. When the Indians are among themselves, however, there cannot be greater gossips. Half their time is taken up in talking over their adventures in war and hunting, and in telling whimsical stories. 5. They are great mimics and buffoons, also, and entertain themselves excessively at the expense of the whites with whom they have associated, and who have supposed them impressed with profound respect for their grandeur and dignity. They are curious observers, noting everything in silence, but with a keen and watchful eye; occasionally exchanging a glance or a grunt with each other, when anything particularly strikes them, but reserving all comments until they are alone. Then it is that they give full scope to criticism, satire, mimicry, and mirth. 6. In the course of my journey along the frontier, I have had repeated opportunities of noticing their excitability and boisterous merriment at their games; and have occasionally noticed a group of Osages sitting round a fire until a late hour of the night, engaged in the most animated conversation, and at times making the woods resound with peals of laughter. As to tears, they have them in abundance, both real and affected; at times they make a merit of them. No one weeps more bitterly or profusely at the death of a relative or friend; and they have stated times when they repair to howl and lament at their graves. As far as I can judge, the Indian of poetical fiction is like the shepherd of pastoral romance, a mere personification of imaginary attributes. IRVING. That pierced their bosoms; and each man would turn, That with the like dumb wonder answered him : Then some would weep, some shout, some, deeper touched, The evening came, yet there the people stood, The beating of your pulses while he spoke. 2. SOLILOQUY OF VAN ARTEVELDE. - Henry Taylor. Say that I fall not in this enterprise, Still must my life be full of hazardous turns, Make fast the doors; heap wood upon the fire; But what is this? Do I not see, or do I dream I see, I know it- there The dweller in the mountains, on whose ear Of armed men must be himself in arms. - And leave myself no choice of vantage-ground, 3. INNOCENCE. Whence learned she this? O, she was innocent! 4. TITUS BEFORE JERUSALEM. - Rev. H. H. Milman It must be And yet it moves me, Romans! it confounds The counsel of my firm philosophy, That Ruin's merciless ploughshare must pass o'er, As on this olive-crowned hill we stand, To the blue heavens! There bright and sumptuous palaces, With cool and verdant gardens interspersed ; There towers of war that frown in massy strength; As conscious of its being her last farewell Of light and glory to that fated city. And, as our clouds of battle, dust, and smoke, Finding itself a solemn sanctuary In the profound of heaven! It stands before us And down the long and branching porticos! 5. THE DUKE ARANZA TO JULIANA.-John Tobin. I'll have no glittering gewgaws stuck about you, To wave as streamers to your vanity; Nor cumbrous silk, that, with its rustling sound, Can see her beauty in! Thus modestly attired, A half-blown rose stuck in thy braided hair, With no more diamonds than those eyes are made of, |