Written for the Casket. ception to this universal fact. He, too, peradThe Triumph of Liberty and Re- venture, might have worn a diadem; and no publicanism. When we cast our eyes over the nations of the earth, and contrast them with our own happy land, every true American heart beats with exultation and joy. Three centuries have scarcely elapsed since this mighty continent which stretches from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and almost from pole to pole, was entirely unknown to the civilized world. Where joyous cities, with their busy population, now greet the eye, rivalling in extent, in arts, manufactures, and commerce, the most renowned cities of Europe, two centuries ago there was naught but a howling wilderness; where the wild beast had his den, and the murderous savage, more terrible than the wild beast, roamed the forest with his tomahawk and scalping-knife. How sudden the change! within this short period this western continent has been the theatre of the most splendid achievements, in the cause of philanthropy, that the world has ever witnessed. brow was ever more fit to be adorned with the "What name is found in history's page so bright, Our fathers fled from the ruthless hand of persecution, and found here a peaceful asylum; which by patient labour they soon converted into a happy home. They did not, however, long enjoy the repose of this quiet retreat. British oppression followed them thither; and would have riveted upon their necks for ever her iron yoke, had there not been a spirit within them which resisted her unjust aggressions; and called them to that contest which finally inally issued in blood of the American revolution-the most glorious era in the political history of the world-when the united voice of our fathers was heard, from But, to return from this digression, there is an utter and a palpable absurdity in a hereditar ry monarchy. The king's eldest son must succeed to the throne, though he be fool. Does not history show that this has often been the fact? And where the heir of the crown has not been characterized by a pitiable and disgraceful imbecility, how often has his reign been spent in idle projects of self aggrandizement, and the half the nation spilt to glut his insatiable ambition! Therefore, re, since we cannot have a theocracy, a government administered immediately by God, from whom alone all power and Maine to Georgia, like "the sound of many wa- all authority emanate; since the Ahnighty has ters," declaring themselves "free and indepen- not interposed, as in the case of his chosen peodent;" and pledging, in support of that declara-ple, but left us to choose for ourselves our own peculiar form of government, reason and common sense, and experience dictate, that republicanism is by far the most rational. These sentiments are beginning to be entertained, and to be freely and boldly expressed in England and France. Knowledge, universally diffused, is all that is necessary to spread these sentiments throughout all the nations of Europe. Let the people become thoroughly acquainted with their rights; let them be convinced that the right and the power to govern belong to themselves; and the thrones of tyrants will soon totter, and the crown fall from their heads. Already the sovereigns of Europe begin to betray their alarm, and to hold the sceptre with a trembling grasp. Alas, the reign of kings, we fear, is short! He, indeed, would not be thought a false prophet, by those observant of the signs of the times, who should venture to predict, that, at no very distant period, all the monarchies and all the aristocracies of Europe-I had almost said all the monarchies and aristocracies of earth-will have crumbled to atoms; and on their ruins will rise republics, splendid and glorious, after the model of the United States of America. tion, "their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor." Long and bloody was the strife. But the British lion was forced to cower beneath the American eagle; and, however reluctantly, was compelled to retreat to his own den with a sullen roar. After that memorable era, our conquering eagle, soaring aloft in triumph, and expanding far and wide his protecting wings over these United States, we have become great and powerful, commanding the admiration and respect, not only of England, our vanquished enemy, but of every nation on the globe. The most enlightened nations of Europe, beholding our prosperity and happiness under a free government, are beginning to long for the same blessings of liberty and republicanism. They are beginning to see that republicanism is the only rational form of government; the only government which is consistent with liberty, the equal rights and the happiness of the people. That although monarchy, considered in the abstract, may, in unity, simplicity, energy and despatch, be superior to a republic; yet that that man never lived who was qualified to wield a sceptre over his fellow men; such is the inherent lust of power in the heart of man. How seldom is that monarch or military hero recorded on the historian's page, who did not abuse the power he possessed. Our own illustrious Washington it is covered, we fail not, in the midst of our enstands out in bold relief as almost the only ex-thusiasm and joy, to recognize the deep shade While we thus exult in the glorious picture which our happy country presents, and gaze with rapture on the light and glory with which ODE TO SPURZHEIM. with which error and infirmity are ever wont to mar the best productions of man. Although every true American's heart beats with exultation and joy, when he contrasts his own happy land with the nations of the earth, crushed beneath the iron sceptre of some haughty monarch, or bowing to the insolence of some proud aristocracy; yet it cannot be concealed, that one foul blot has always stained the fair page of American glory. How does it comport with consistency, for a nation who struggled eight long years in a bloody contest for liberty and independence. and who has proclaimed in the audience of all the nations of the earth, that she "holds these truths to be self-evident:-that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it." How does it comport with consistency for such a nation to hold in slavery, the most abject and degrading, more than two millions of their fellow men? If the heroes of the revolution had so keen a sense of justice, that they would not suffer the least infringement of their rights; if they would not permit even a few light taxes to be unjustly imposed upon them, nor be forced into the degraded condition of colonies taxed and yet unrepresented, but demanded all the rights and privileges rivileges of free born British citizens; what would have been their feelings had any people or any nation attempted to impose upon them the yoke of African servitude? Their indignation would have been roused into fury; and with the strength of Samson, they would have burst the bands with which they were bound, and laid prostrate the pillars of so corrupt a government, though they themselves had fallen beneath the ruins. We have publicly and solemnly declared, that we believe "all men are created equal." And does not "all men" include the sable sons of Africa, as well as the pale sons of Europe? Or is the negro destitute of the noble faculties of the human soul? and therefore not to be ranked among men, but to be treated like the brutes. We grant the mighty inferiority. But why is the intellect of the African so debased and grovelling? It is because the sun of liberty has never been permitted to shine upon his benighted soul. As well might we expect that the fruits of the earth should ripen beneath the shade, as that the intellect of man should come to perfection under the chilling influence of slavery. The African must be transplanted to a soil and climate congenial to his constitution, where the sun of liberty may irradiate his mind; and then, and not till then, will his intellect grow and expand, and put on the attributes of dignified man. We, therefore, hail the American Colonization Society as the grand instrument, in the hand of Providence, of raising this degraded population to their just rank in the scale of humanity. When every African shall be transported to his own native shores, and these United States freed from a population, at once a disgrace and a curse, then 77 may we expect the blessings of the Almighty to "Say, ye supernal Powers who deeply scan Peace to the slave, and vengeace on the free." May the time soon come, when we shall loose the bonds of wickedness, undo the heavy burdens, break every yoke, and let the oppressed go free." "Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise, The queen of the world, and the child of the skies! To conquest and slaughter let Europe aspire: AMERICUS. The following beautiful ode, written for the oссаsion by the Rev. Mr. Pierpoint, was sung by the Handel and Hayden Society, at the obsequies of Dr. Spurzheim, at Boston. ODE. Stranger, there is bending o'er thee, Autumn's leaves shall fall and wither, To thy mourning Mother's breast. All whose creatures and whore laws Written for the Casket. THE GRAVE. The grave, the grave! within its scope How many a heart has there been broken O'er love's fond, fickle, faithless token! one example, which is sufficient. All the catterpillar tribe undergo a change which points plainly to the resurrection of man. Take the silkworm, for example. It has its infancy, and begins its labors so soon it arrives at maturity. It spins its thread of existence, and at the end is silent in its tomb. More wise than man, its whole life is spent in preparing for its grave. In the course of ten or fifteen days the change takes place, and the resurrection is at hand. It then breaks the barriers of the grave, and comes forth in the form of a fly, and far more beautiful and happy. It eats not now, but makes pleasure its sole object, constantly jumping and flying about. Unlike its former self, it no longer eats, or works, or is sick. It would seem as if the Diety had made these things as proofs to man of his own surrection. There is nothing in life so well calculated to humble the haughty, and bow down the stiff knee of pride, as to follow the remains of some young and gifted person-to stand by the solemn, the mournful grave, and to see the earth close over him for ever. How many melancholy emotions crowd upon the heart, while we stand for a few moments around the last dwelling place of man. A wise God has given to the grave, for a good immortality. It is a complete picture of the re But does the soul leave the body at the moment of dissolution, and does it fly to some far off star, to some place of happiness or does it linger among us? Is it true, as Milton observes, "Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth, purpose, the power of exciting the most tender, To meditate among the tombs, to me is a melancholy pleasure. There every guilty thought is suppressed-there every unholy passion subsides there ambition, vanity, and pride, are swallowed up in reflection, and the mind abstracted from the world becomes calm as the summer lake, while the sublime current of contemplation leads it in pleasing though sad thought from life to the grave, and from the grave to immortality. I have stood at the death-bed and at the grave of the gay, the young, the beautiful, and the gifted. And while I have stood there these thoughts have rushed upon my mind. Is man immortal? And if so, where and when does the spirit go? That the soul of man is immortal is proven by his longing after immortality, and as Cato observes, his fear of falling into annihilation. If the soul of man is not immortal, why should it have been given the power of progressing in knowledge and virtue. The acquirement of the mind is infinite, and it would seem strange to suppose that its duration were finite. I know not whether other men have the same consciousness, but for myself, I know that I have a soul, I can feel the distinction perceptibly between it and the body; yes, I can feel feel it as distinctly as I can see the yolk contained in the eggshell. That my soul is immortal is proven by analogy in both the vegetable and animal kingdoms. The lofty oak is felled, to the earth, and in the course of time another tall towering oak springs from its root. The/rose tree "bears its blushing honors thick upon, it," and they die; yet in the next year others of the same form bloom forth in their places. But the animal kingdom proves more precisely the immortality of the soul. I wilgive Dr. Priestly, and the sect called Materialists, taught the doctrine that the mind of man is not spiritual, but the mere result of the movement of the fibres of the brain. They believed that when man dies the mind ceases with the cessation of the brain's movement. They also as a consequence believed, that the mind is extinct or quiescent in the grave until the resurrection, when it would again come into existence at the same moment that the brain would more. In sleep, though alive, we have a very imperfect consciousness of the lapse of time, and say they, in the grave, where there can be no consciousness of the flight of time, the soul might slumber on for millions of years, and wake with the supposition that only a moment had elapsed. But this is all conjecture, for all is hid in impenetrable darkness. It is enough for us to know that man is immortal. Oh the grave-the grave-it covers all human hopes and all human affections! But a short time since I followed to the grave the lifeless form of an infant child of my sister. While I stood with each foot on a grave, looking down in the dark home of the infant, I asked myself the question, what is life and what its securities? Before me lies an infant whose life has extended to but a few short weeks, and the graves on which I stand are but short. What is life, that death should be so terrific and how strange is it, that, though we dread his approach, we think so little of that change, and make so little preparation for that hour which must irrevocably come. It is true that life, to the youthful mind, is ind, is bright, and fraught with future hopes and happiness; and it is so because his heart is pure, and he knows not the hollow-heartedness of the worid and the imperfections of human nature. The vista opens before him, and he sees not the endflowers and sunshine charm his eye, and he thinks not of the darkness that will ere long enshroud them. Fancy is a foe to solemn reflection, and hence it is that the youthful mind thinks not of death. The heart has not the indepen- | in marriage, on account of the inequality of their dence and fearlessness of the mind, or we should fortunes. She loved him with a devotion seldom never reflect on a subject so humiliating and equalled, and it was not until she saw the union I terrible. There are but two sources of real pleasure in life, knowledge and virtue; by virtue, mean religion in the widest acceptation of the word. Knowledge and virtue are progressive, and not perishable like that which the world sanctioned by her lover's parents, that she yielded to his entreaties. They were married, and time passed smoothly and rapidly away. For a year he knew no happiness out of the presence of his Emily, and she richly repaid his attention calls pleasure. Some of the Grecian philoso- by her smiles and caresses. Every night when phers taught the doctrine that virtue and vice his daily business was done, he flew to his home were only nominal, and there was no distinction and fireside, where the bright-eyed Emily awaitonly in the names. But there as great dis-ed his approach with a smile. Through tinction as there is between light and darkness. evening, he read or conversed while she plied He who commits a good action is richly repaid by the pleasing consciousness which follows it, and he who commits a bad one is as surely punished by the pain which follows it. What oceans of tears have been shed at the grave, and how many a heart has pined and sickened at the thought of separation. It is a melancholy truth that no less than ninety thousand of the human race are laid in the grave in one day. And how does the heart shrink when we look around us, and think that of all the active beings we see in the full pursuit of happiness, not one perhaps will be living one hundred the needle, and this he called true happiness. And I would ask, if a man cannot be happy at home with the wife he loves, where and with whom could he be happy? If a married man flies to the society of other persons, he plainly tells his wife that it is more agreeable than her own company. How agonizing must it be to a woman of sensibility who sees others enjoy the presence of the man that she most loves. It is cruel in the extreme, and nothing can excuse it. James was always with his wife when not engaged in business; but alas, the time came when he sometimes was absent from the evening fire years hence-that the child now in its mother's side. Emily noticed it, but from a delicacy, said 80 lap will then have been laid in the grave a gray headed man, the father of several generations. How short is the period of sixty years to pass from generous hearted youth to avaricious old age, and how humiliating is the fact, that the older we grow the more hardened the heart becomes, and the less fit for heaven. The youth who will welcome to his door the aged mendicant will, in future life while grasping after wealth, deny him the pittance of a farthing. Money, money runs through every thing. It supplies the place of talent, wisdom, greatness, and almost of virtue. But alas, to how many has it proved worse than the fire to Prometheus, or the water to Tantalus! If we could have a chronicle of the scenes and agonies the grave occasions, how full of instruction might it not be, and how many a moral lesson might it not inculcate. I have witnessed many sorrowful scenes at the grave, one of which 1 shall relate. James W- was the son of respectable parents, a youth of fine acquirements and no ordinary intellect. He grew up in every indulgence, and his friends carefully removed every supposed obstacle to his march in the path of knowledge. He grew up a young man much respected for his virtues and talents, and chose the profession most agreeable to his inclination. At the age of twenty-three he became acquainted with an amiable and beautiful girl. Emily C- was the daughter of a man who had by his bounty placed the the father of young W- in the road to wealth. Her parents become insolvent, were both dead, and through gratitude she was made an inmate in James's family. He saw her beauty, and admired her; he tested her worth, and loved her. Being an only son, the hope and stay of their declining years, his parents saw the growing attachment, but would not thwart his inclinations. Emily was alone in the world, and of course was inclined to love the man who should sympathize in her sorrows. But she did not so easily yield to his solicitations of her hand nothing. The evenings of his absence became more frequent, and she became alarmed and sorrowful. On his return one evening, she asked him, in a pleasant tone, if his evenings were not as agreeable as formerly. "They are," said W-, " and you, my Emily, are as dear as ever." "Then why," said Emily, with a smile, "do you not, as formerly, enliven our hearth at evening with your conversation? Oh James, you know not how much pleasure it gave me-I was indeed happy?" " And are you not happy now?" inquired W. "The only reason of my occasional absence has been business, and sometimes the toil of the day occasions ennui at night." "You once said," returned Emily, "that I could charm away your every care, and-" "No more, my dear Emily, for God's sake," said James. "Do you forgive me?" "With all my heart," answered the fond young wife, "there is nothing in you I would not forgive." One long fond embrace ended the matter, and the fond fond, faithful and gentle Emily was clad in smiles, as though her husband had never neglecfed her. They were called the happy couple. For a while James was happy by the evening fireside. One evening in November, she missed him, for the charm of her home was gone. The amiable Emily was sitting by the cradle of her child plying her needle, when the clock tolled ten, and the beloved of her heart had not yet returned. He had never staid out so late. She sat with an aching heart, listening breathlessly for the sound of his footsteps; but nothing was heard save the hollow sound of the blast as it moaned mournfully round the turrets of the building. Her fancy had worked up her mind to a state bordering on agony, when the clock struck eleven, and yet James came not. There, still sleepless sat the devoted Emily, her heart sickening with protracted suspense. She leaned I GO TO THE DARK AND SILENT TOMB. over the cradle, where slept her innocent babe, | acute feelings. It is lamentable that the most and when she thought of the change in its fa- talented, most generous and amiable men should ther, she wept long and bitterly. Her passion be most liable to contract habits of intemperof grief had not entirely subsided when a stum- ance. Their minds are excited and imagina bling was heard at the door, and in the next moment a thundering knock. With a palpitating heart she flew to open it, and the very horrors her fancy had depicted stared her in the face. tion pictures, under the influence of stimulus, a heaven of pleasure, and hence the liability. James became more dissipated, and plunged into the very depth of evil to drown the whisper He was deeply intoxicated, and in his counte-ings of conscience. But alas, when he awoke nance were written the lines of despair and agony. "For God's sake, what is the matter, my dear James?" she inquired with a tremulous voice. "I am a wretch," he replied, in a stentorian voice, "villains have tempted me to drink, and then to follow to the gaming table. I played, and this night have lost all, even to the gold watch in my pocket. Oh, Emily, I have reduced you and my child to common beggars." Woman, in trying occasions seems to gather strength from despair. Though his language blanched her cheek and made her heart sick, she attempted to soothe his agony and even hoped that his misfortune would recal him back to virtue. The truth was, that from the moment James had given up the pure society of his wife, he gradually formed a liking for the company of dissipated young men. Indulgence made liquor agreeable, and habit riveted the chain of necessity. He was led to the hateful gaming table, and had indulged in it for a long time, from small his misery was a thousand times more acute. Two or three years of this life presented to him his poor child clad in rags and crying for bread, and his amiable, gentle, uncomplaining Emily, gradually pining away under the weight of accumulating misery. This agonized his his soul, s and made him still more desperate. Emily soon sunk under her misery, and in her dying moments spoke to him of forgiveness, and exhorted him to take care of her child. No sooner had he seen the breath out of her than he took a pistol, retired to his chamber, and put a period to his existence. Both were interred together, and the scene at the grave was touching in the extreme. The gray headed and heart broken parents were there, and a numerous throng of relatives and friends, lamenting the fate of a man who had set out in the journey of life with brilliant hopes and glorious anticipations. How many have made shipwreck on the same rock! How many have brought an amiable wife to misery, degradation, and the grave!-Alas! too many. Parents, re sums rising to greater. On the night spoken of flect. Gentle reader, reflect and be wise. some sharpers, who played into each other's hands, stripped him of every thing he possessed, and then discarded him as a beggar. In this MILFORD BARD. From the Saturday Evening Post. situation the unhappy husband stood before his I GO TO THE DARK AND SILENT TOMB. fond and gentle wife. When he looked upon his wife and child it was like a dagger to his heart, but despair instead of arresting his career hurried him on to desperation. All that night he raved like a madman, while the gentle Emily reproved him only with her tears. "My dear James," said Emily, the next day, looking in his wan and haggard face, " if you will only leave off now, I will not mind the loss of fortune, and will be content with bread and water." "But you will upbraid me-oh yes, you will curse me," he cried, burying his face in her bo som. Emily wept bitterly, and could not reply. Misfortune and sin seemed to devote her gentle spirit to him more than ever, and her conjugal af fection had always been proverbial. For a time James appeared serious, and half determined, for the sake of his wife and child, whom he loved dearly, to begin the world again; for he had by his own exertions amassed considerable, independently of that given by his parents. A few weeks elapsed, when his creditors came and swept all that had not been swallowed by the gaming table. Emily's heart melted when she saw the very presents sold which her husband had given her in happier days. Yes, even the cradle of her infant was taken to satisfy the passion for gaming. When he saw this he for the first time burst into tears, for he remembered what he had told Emily when he gave it to her. From this period he gave up to despair, for he was a man of refined mind, and of course of I go to the dark and silent tomb, To a rest in the deep blue sky Long, long have I pined for that happy home, Ere yon sun that is glittering still in the west, My spirit shall soar to the realms of the blest, As the slumbering waves of the beautiful sea, I blessed thee in hope, ere the shadows of woe When my visions were bright as the rivulet's flow, JULIA. There is no such thing as perfect secrecy to encourage a rational mind to the perpetration of any base action; for a man must first extinguish and put out the great light within-his conscience; he must get away from himself, and shake off the thousand witnesses which he carries about him, before he can be alone.-South. |