12. For, sore dismayed, through storm and shade, His child he did discover,

One lovely hand she stretched for aid,

And one was round her lover.

13. "Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, "Across this stormy water,

And I'll forgive your Highland chief; Othelly

My daughter! oh, my daughter!

14. 'Twas vain: the loud waves lashed the shore,
Return, or aid preventing:

The waters wild went o'er his child,
And he was left lamenting.

LESSON LIX.

EULOGY ON HAMILTON.

MASON.

1. He was born to be great. Whoever was second, Hamilton must be first. To his stupendous and versatile mind no investigation was difficult-no subject presented which he did not illuminate. Superiority in some particular, belongs to thousands. Preeminence, in whatever he chose to undertake, was the prerogative of Hamilton. No fixed criterion could be applied to his talents. Often has their display been supposed to have reached the limit of human effort; and the judg. ment stood firm till set aside by himself.

2. When a cause of new magnitude required new exertions, he rose, he towered, he soared; surpassing himself as he surpassed others. Then was nature tributary to his eloquence! Then was felt his despotism over the heart! Touching, at his pleasure, every string of pity or terror, of indignation or grief,

he melted, he soothed, he roused, he agitated; alternately gentle as the dews, and awful as the thunder.

3. Yet,great as he was in the eyes of the world, he was greater in the eyes of those with whom he was most conversant. The greatness of most men, like objects seen through a mist, diminishes with the distance; but Hamilton, like a tower seen afar off under a clear sky, rose in grandeur and sublimity with every step of approach. Familiarity with him was the parent of veneration.

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3. Over these matchless talents, probity threw her brightest luster. Frankness, suavity, tenderness, benevolence, breathed through their exercise. And to his family — but he is gonethat noble heart beats no more: that eye of fire is dimmed; and sealed are those oracular lips. Americans, the serenest beam of your glory is extinguished in the tomb?

4. The death of Hamilton is no common affliction. The loss of distinguished men is, at all times, a calamity; but the loss of such a man, at such a time, and in the very meridian of his usefulness, is singularly portentous. When Washington was taken, Hamilton was left-but Hamilton is taken, and we have no Washington. We have not such another man to die! Washington and Hamilton in five years! Bereaved America!

LESSON LX.

BATTLE OF WARSAW.

CAMPBELL.

1. OH! sacred truth, thy triumph ceased awhile,
And hope, thy sister, ceased with thee to smile,
When leagued oppression poured to northern wars
Her whiskered panders, and her fierce hussars,

Wav'd her dread standard to the breeze of morn,

Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet horn! Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van,

Presaging wrath to Poland and to man.

2. Warsaw's last champion from her height surveyed, Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid;

Oh, Heaven! he cried, my bleeding country save!
Is there no hand on high to shield the brave?
Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains,
Rise, fellow-men! our country yet remains!
By that dread name, we wave the sword on high,
And swear for her to live, with her to die!

3. He said, and on the rampart heights arrayed,
His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed;
Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form,
Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm;
Low, murmuring sounds along their banners fly,
Revenge or death! — the watchword and reply;
Then pealed the notes omnipotent to charm,
And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm.

4. In vain, alas! in vain, ye gallant few!

From rank to rank your volleyed thunder flew;
Oh, bloodiest picture in the "book of time!"
Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime!
Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe,

Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe!

Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear,
Closed her bright eye, and curbed her high career;
Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell,
And freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell!

5. The sun went down, nor ceased the carnage there, Tumultuous murder shook the midnight air!

On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow;
His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below;
The storm prevails, the rampart yields away,
Bursts the wild cry of horror and dismay !
Hark! as the smouldering piles with thunder fall,
A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call;
Earth shook-red meteors flashed along the sky,
And conscious nature shuddered at the cry.

LESSON LXI.

EMMET'S LAST SPEECH.

1. MY LORDS: - Let no man dare, when I am dead, to charge me with dishonor! let no man attaint my memory, by believing that I could have engaged in any cause but that of my country's liberty and independence; or, that I could have become the pliant minion of power, in the oppression or the miseries of my countrymen.

2. The proclamation of the provisional government speaks for our views; no inference can be tortured from it, to countenance barbarity or debasement at home, or subjection, humiliation, or treachery, from abroad; I would not have submitted to a foreign oppressor, for the same reason that I would resist the domestic tyrant; in the dignity of freedom, I would have fought upon the threshold of my country, and its enemy should enter only by passing over my lifeless corpse.

3. Am I, who lived but for my country, and who have subjected myself to the dangers of the jealous and watchful oppressor, and the bondage of the grave, only to give my countrymen their rights, and my country her independence, am I to be loaded with calumny, and not suffered to resent it or re pel it-no, God forbid !

4. If the spirits of the illustrious dead participate in the concerns and cares of those who are dear to them, in this transitory life, O ever dear and venerated shade of my departed father, look down with scrutiny upon the conduct of your suffering son; and see if I have, even for a moment, deviated from those principles of morality and patriotism, which it was your care to instil into my youthful mind, and for which I am now to offer up my life.

5. My lords, you are impatient for the sacrifice. The blood which you seek, is not congealed by the artificial terrors which surround your victim; it circulates, warmly and unruffled, through the channels which God created for noble purposes, but which you are bent to destroy, for purposes so grievous that they cry to heaven.

6. Be yet patient; I have but a few more words to say. I am going to my cold and silent grave; my lamp of life is nearly extinguished; my race is run; the grave opens to receive me, and I sink into its bosom! I have but one request to ask at my departure from this world-it is the charity of its silence. Let no man write my epitaph: for, as no man, who knows my motives, dare now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them and me repose in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain uninscribed, until other times and other men can do justice to my character: when my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written. I have done.