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he should live so long, such a mental likeness of the young one? If it be not drawn near the time, it can never be drawn with sufficient accuracy.*



The Results of Misdirected and Guilty Ambition. - ADAM SMITH.

1. To attain to this envied situation, the candidates for fortune too frequently abandon the paths of virtue; for, unhappily, the road which leads to the one, and that which leads to the other, lie sometimes in opposite directions.

2. But the ambitious man flatters himself that, in the splendid situation to which he advances, he will have so many means of commanding the respect and admiration of mankind and will be enabled to act with such superior propriety and grace, that the luster of his future conduct will entirely cover or efface the foulness of the steps by which he arrived at that ⚫elevation.

3. In many governments the candidates for the highest stations are above the law, and if they can attain the object of their ambition, they have no fear of being called to account for the means by which they acquired it. They often endeavor, therefore, not only by fraud and falsehood, the ordinary and vulgar arts of intrigue and cabal, but sometimes by the perpetration of the most enormous crimes, by murder and assassination, by rebellion and civil war, to supplant and destroy those who oppose or stand in the way of their greatness.

4. They more frequently miscarry than succeed, and commonly gain nothing but the disgraceful punishment which is due to their crimes. But though they should be so lucky as to attain that wished-for greatness, they are always most miserably disappointed in the happiness which they expect to enjoy in it.

5. It is not ease or pleasure, but always honor, of one kind or another, though frequently an honor very ill understood,

*How many of the faults and foibles of mankind would be avoided if we could realize the beautiful language of Burns:

"O wad some power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!

It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
And foolish notion."

that the ambitious man really pursues. But the honor of his exalted station appears, both in his own eyes and in those of other people, polluted and defiled by the baseness of the means through which he rose to it.

6. Though by the profusion of every liberal expense, though by excessive indulgence in every profligate pleasure, the wretched but usual resource of ruined characters, though by the hurry of public business, or by the prouder and more dazzling tumult of war, he may endeavor to efface, both from his own memory and from that of other people, the remembrance of what he has done, that remembrance never fails to pursue him.

7. He invokes in vain the dark and dismal powers of for getfulness and oblivion. He remembers himself what he has done, and that remembrance tells him that other people must likewise remember it.

8. Amidst all the gaudy pomp of the most ostentatious greatness, amidst the venal and vile adulation of the great and of the learned, amidst the more innocent though more foolish acclamations of the common people, amidst all the pride of conquest and the triumph of successful war, he is still secretly pursued by the avenging furies of shame and remorse; and while glory seems to surround him on all sides, he himself, in his own imagination, sees black and foul infamy fast pursuing him, and every moment ready to overtake him from behind.


The Druses.* HEBER.

1. FIERCE, hardy, proud, in conscious freedom bold,
Those stormy seats the warrior Druses hold;
From Norman blood their lofty line they trace,
Their lion-courage proves their generous race.
They, only they, while all around them kneel
In sudden homage to the Thracian steel,
Teach their pale despot's waning moon to fear
The patriot terrors of the mountain spear.

2. Yes, valorous chiefs, while yet your sabers shine,
The native guard of feeble Palestine,


* The Druses were a hardy mountain race in Syria, descended from the Crusaders.

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O, ever thus, by no vain boast dismayed,
Defend the birthright of the cedar shade!
What though no more for you the obedient gale
Swells the white bosom of the Tyrian sail;
Though now no more your glittering marts unfold
Sidonian* dyes and Lusitanian gold;
Though not for you the pale and sickly slave
Forgets the light in Ophir's † wealthy cave;
Yet yours the lot, in proud contentment blest,
Where cheerful labor leads to tranquil rest.

3. No robber-rage the ripening harvest knows;
And unrestrained the generous vintage flows:
Nor less your sons to manliest deeds aspire;
And Asia's mountains glow with Spartan fire.
So when, deep sinking in the rosy main,
The western sun forsakes the Syrian plain,
His watery rays refracted luster shed,

pour their latest light on Carmel's head. 4. Yet shines your praise, amid surrounding gloom, As the lone lamp that trembles in the tomb; For few the souls that spurn a tyrant's chain, And small the bounds of freedom's scanty reign.


The Wicked Man. RICHARD H. DANA. ‡

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1. He walks within the day's full glare
A darkened man. Where'er he comes,
All shun him. Children peep and stare;
Then, frightened, seek their homes.

Through all the crowd a thrilling horror ran.
They point, and say, - "There goes the wicked man!"
2. He turns and curses in his wrath
Both man and child; then hastes away

* Sidon was a city of ancient Phoenicia, celebrated for a beautiful purple dye. Purple is a compound color, composed of pink and blue. Lusitania is the ancient name of Portugal.

+ Ophir was a country or city to which the Hebrews made voyages in the time of David and Solomon. -[See 1 Kings, c. ix., v. 28.] It is not known what was its precise situation, but it is supposed to have been on the east coast of Africa, or in the East Indies.

Born 1787.

Shoreward, or takes some gloomy path;
But there he cannot stay:

Terror and madness drive him back to men ;
His hate of man to solitude again.

3. Time passes on, and he grows bold-
His eye is fierce, his oaths are loud;
None dare from him the hand withhold;
He rules and scoffs the crowd.

But still at heart there lies a secret fear;
For now the year's dread round is drawing near.
4. He swears, but he is sick at heart;

He laughs, but he turns deadly pale;
His restless eye and sudden start-
These tell the dreadful tale

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That will be told: it needs no words from thee,
Thou self-sold slave to fear and misery.


The Prayer Answered. - POLLOK.*

1. HAIL love, first love, thou word that sums all bliss!
The sparkling cream of all Time's blessedness,
The silken down of happiness complete!
Discerner of the ripest grapes of joy

She gathered and selected with her hand,
All finest relishes, all fairest sights,
All rarest odors, all divinest sounds,
All thoughts, all feelings, dearest to the soul:
And brought the holy mixture home, and filled
The heart with all superlatives of bliss.

2. But who would that expound, which words transcends,
Must talk in vain. Behold a meeting scene
Of early love, and thence infer its worth.
It was an eve of autumn's holiest mood;

The corn-fields, bathed in Cynthia's † silver light,
Stood ready for the reaper's gathering hand;
And all the winds slept soundly. Nature seemed
In silent contemplation to adore
Its Maker.

3. Now and then the aged leaf

Fell from its fellows, rustling to the ground;

*Born 1799; 1827.

i Cynthia, the moon.

And, as it fell, bade man think on his end.
On vale and lake, on wood and mountain high,
With pensive wing outspread, sat heavenly Thought,
Conversing with itself.

4. Vesper looked forth

From out her western hermitage and smiled;
And up the east, unclouded, rode the moon
With all her stars, gazing on earth intense,
As if she saw some wonder working there.

5. Such was the night, so lovely, still, serene,
When, by a hermit thorn that on the hill
Had seen a hundred flowery ages pass,
A damsel kneeled to offer
up her prayer-
Her prayer nightly offered, nightly heard.

6. This ancient thorn had been the meeting-place Of love, before his country's voice had called The ardent youth to fields of honor far Beyond the wave: and hither now repaired, Nightly, the maid, by God's all-seeing eye Seen only, while she sought this boon alone "Her lover's safety, and his quick return."

7. In holy, humble attitude she kneeled,
And to her bosom, fair as moonbeam, pressed
One hand, the other lifted up to heaven.
Her eye, upturned, bright as the star of morn,
As violet meek, excessive ardor streamed,
Wafting away her earnest heart to God.

8. Her voice, scarce uttered, soft as zephyr sighs
On morning's lily cheek, though soft and low,
Yet heard in heaven, heard at the mercy-seat.
A tear-drop wandered on her lovely face;
It was a tear of faith and holy fear,
Pure as the drops that hang at dawning-time
On yonder willows by the stream of life.

9. On her the moon looked steadfastly; the stars That circle nightly round the eternal throne Glanced down, well pleased; and everlasting Love Gave gracious audience to her prayer sincere.

10. O, had her lover seen her thus alone!
Thus holy, wrestling thus, and all for him!
Nor did he not for ofttimes Providence
With unexpected joy the fervent prayer
Of faith surprised. Returned from long delay,
With glory crowned of righteous actions won.

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