Standing, as I do, almost within view of the green slopes of Monticello, and, as it were, within reach of the tomb of Washington, with all the cherished memories of the past gathering around me, like so many eloquent voices of exhortation from Heaven, I can express no better hope for my country, than that the kind Providence which smiled upon our fathers may enable their children to preserve the blessings they have inherited.

LESSON XLIX.

1. FROM CICERO'S ORATION AGAINST VERRES.

Will you

I ask now, Verres, what have you to advance against this charge? Will you pretend to deny it? pretend that any thing false, that even any thing aggravated is alleged against you? Had any prince, or any state, committed the same outrage against the privilege of Roman citizens, should we not think we had sufficient reason for declaring immediate war against them ? What punishment ought then to be inflicted on a tyrannical and wicked prætor, who dared, at no greater distance than Sicily, within sight of the Italian coast, to put to the infamous death of crucifixion that unfortunate and innocent citizen, Publius Gavius Cosanus, only for his having asserted his privilege of citizenship, and declared his intention of appealing to the justice of his country against a cruel oppressor, who had unjustly confined him in prison at Syracuse, whence he

had just made his escape? The unhappy man, arrested as he was going to embark for his native country, is brought before the wicked prætor. With eyes darting fury, and a countenance distorted with cruelty, he orders the helpless victim of his rage to be stripped, and rods to be brought; accusing him, but without the least shadow of evidence, or even of suspicion, of having come to Sicily as a spy. It was in vain that the unhappy man cried out, "I am a Roman citizen, I have served under Lucius Pretius, who is now at Panormus, and will attest my innocence." The bloodthirsty prætor, deaf to all he could urge in his own defence, ordered the infamous punishment to be inflicted. Thus, fathers, was an innocent Roman citizen publicly mangled with scourging; while the only words he uttered amidst his cruel sufferings were, "I am a Roman citizen!" With these he hoped to defend himself from violence and infamy. But of so little service was this privilege to him, that while he was asserting his citizenship, the order was given for his execution-for his execution upon the

cross!

O liberty! O sound once delightful to every Roman ear! O sacred privilege of Roman citizenship! Once sacred, now trampled upon! But what then is it come to this? Shall an inferior magistrate, a governor, who holds his power of the Roman people, in a Roman province, within sight of Italy, bind, scourge, torture with fire and red hot plates of iron, and at last put to the infamous death of the cross, a Roman citizen? Shall neither the cries of innocence expiring in agony, nor the tears of pitying spectators, nor the majesty of

the Roman commonwealth, nor the fear of the justice of his country, restrain the licentious and wanton cruelty of a monster, who, in confidence of his riches, strikes at the root of liberty, and sets mankind at defiance?

2. REPLY TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.-Lord Thurlow. B. 1732; d. 1806.

I am amazed has made on me. Yes, my Lords, I am amazed at his Grace's speech. The noble Duke cannot look before him, behind him, or on either side of him, without seeing some noble Peer who owes his seat in this House to his successful exertions in the profession to which I belong. Does he not feel that it is as honorable to owe it to these, as to being the accident of an accident? To all these noble Lords the language of the noble Duke is as applicable, and as insulting as it is to myself. But I do not fear to meet it single and alone.

at the attack which the noble Duke

No one venerates the Peerage more than I do; but, my Lords, I must say that the Peerage solicited me,not I the Peerage. Nay, more,-I can say, and will say, that, as a Peer of Parliament, as Speaker of this right honorable House, as keeper of the great seal, as guardian of his Majesty's conscience, as Lord High Chancellor of England,-nay, even in that character alone in which the noble Duke would think it an affront to be considered, but which character none can deny me, as a man,-I am, at this moment, as respectable, -I beg leave to add, I am as much respected,—as the proudest Peer I now look down upon.

3. THE OLD MAN'S FUNERAL.-W. C. Bryant.

I saw an aged man upon his bier,

His hair was thin and white, and on his brow

A record of the cares of many a year ;—
Cares that were ended and forgotten nów.

And there was sadness round, and faces bowed,
And woman's tears fell fast, and children wailed aloud.

Then rose another hoary man and said,

In faltering accents, to that weeping train,
"Why mourn ye that our aged friend is dead?
Ye are not sad to see the gathered grain,

Nor when their mellow fruit the orchards cast,
Nor when the yellow woods let fall the ripened mast.
"Ye sigh not when the sun, his course fulfilled,
His glorious course, rejoicing earth and sky,

In the soft evening, when the winds are stilled,
Sinks where his islands of refreshment lie,
And leaves the smile of his departure, spread
O'er the warm-colored heaven and ruddy mountain head.
"Why weep ye then for him, who, having won
The bound of man's appointed years, at last,
Life's blessings all enjoyed, life's labors done,
Serenely to his final rest has passed;

While the soft memory of his virtues, yet,

Lingers like twilight hues, when the bright sun is set?

"His youth was innocent; his riper age

Marked with some act of goodness every day;

And watched by eyes that loved him, calm and sage, Faded his late declining years away.

Cheerful he gave his being up, and went

To share the holy rest that waits a life well spent.
"That life was happy; every day he gave
Thanks for the fair existence that was his;
For a sick fancy made him not her slàve
To mock him with her phantom míseries.
No chronic tortures racked his aged limb,
For luxury and sloth had nourished none for him.
"And I am glad that he has lived thus long,
And glad that he has gone to his reward;
Nor can I deem that nature did him wrong,
Softly to disengage the vital chord..

When his weak hand grew palsied, and his eye
Dark with the mists of age, it was his time to die."

4. ROBERT OF LINCOLN.-Wm. C. Bryant.

(A good example of the Dactylic and Trochaic verse. See p. 94.)

1. Merrily swinging on briar and weed,

Near to the nest of his little dame,

Over the mountain-side or mead,
Robert of Lincoln is telling his name;
Bob-o'-link, Bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink;

Snug and safe is that nest of oúrs,
Hidden among the summer flowers,
Chee, chee, chee!

2. Robert of Lincoln is gaily drest,

Wearing a bright black wedding coat ;
White are his shoulders, and white his crest-
Hear him call in his merry note,