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Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon him :
Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest,
May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.
Rise, fathers, rise! 'Tis Rome demands your help;
Rise, and revenge her slaughtered citizens,
Or share their fate! The corpse
Manure the fields of Thessaly, while we
Sit here deliberating in cold debates,

of half her senate

If we should sacrifice our lives to honor,
Or wear them out in servitude and chains..
Rouse up, for shame! our brothers of Pharsalia
Point at their wounds, and cry aloud—to battle!
Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow,
And Scipio's ghost walks unrevenged amongst us!




1. MR. PRESIDENT :— -It is natural for man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that syren, till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those, who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.

2. I have but one lamp, by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future, but by the past. And, judging by the past, I wish

to know what there has been, in the conduct of the British ministry, for the last ten years, to justify those hopes, with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves, and the house? Is it that insidious smile, with which our petition has been lately received?

3. Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suf fer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves, how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations, which cover our waters, and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love, and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love?

4. Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation-the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains, which the British ministry have been so long forging.

5. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find, which have not been already exhausted?

6. Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition,

to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have pro duced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded, and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne.

7. In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free; if we mean to preserve, inviolate, those inestimable privileges, for which we have been so long contending; if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle, in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, we must fight! I repeat it! sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms, and to the God of hosts, is all that is left us.

8. They tell us, sir, that we are weak, unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance, by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot?

9. Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible, by any force which our enemy can send against us.

10. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God, who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were

base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable, and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come!

11. It is vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, peace, peace-but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north, will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it

that gentlemen wish? what would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God. I know not what course others may take, but, as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!"



8. F. SMITH.

1. YES, my native land, I love thee-
All thy scenes, I love them well;
Friends, connections, happy country
Can I bid you all farewell?

Can I leave you,

Far in heathen lands to dwell?

2. Home! thy joys are passing lovely—
Joys no stranger-heart can tell;
Happy home! indeed I love thee!
Can I, can I say, farewell?

Can I leave thee,

Far in heathen lands to dwell?

3. Scenes of sacred peace and pleasure,
Holy days and Sabbath bell,

Richest, brightest, sweetest treasure!
Can I say a last farewell?

Can I leave you,

Far in heathen lands to dwell?

4. Yes, I hasten from you gladly,

From the scenes I loved so well;
Far away, ye billows, bear me;
Lovely, native land, farewell!
Pleased I leave thee,

Far in heathen lands to dwell.
5. In the deserts let me labor,

On the mountains let me tell
How He died-the blessed Savior-
To redeem a world from hell!

Let me hasten,

Far in heathen lands to dwell.

6. Bear me on, thou restless ocean,

Let the winds the canvas swell;
Heaves my heart with warm emotion,
While I go far hence to dwell;

Glad I bid thee,
Native land, farewell, farewell!




1. In slumbers of midnight, the sailor boy lay;

His hammock swung loose, at the sport of the wind; But, watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away, And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind.

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