And war-that, since, o'er ocean came,

And thundered loud from yonder hill, And wrapped its foot in sheets of flame, To blast that ark-its storm is still.

Chief, sachem, sage, bards, heroes, seers,
That live in story and in song,

Time, for the last two hundred years,
Has raised, and shown, and swept along.

'Tis like a dream when one awakes-
This vision of the scenes of old:
"Tis like the moon when morning breaks,
"Tis like a tale round watch-fires told.

Then what are we !-then what are we!
Yes, when two hundred years have rolled
O'er our green graves, our names shall be
A morning dream, a tale that's told.

God of our fathers,-in whose sight

The thousand years, that sweep away Man, and the traces of his might,

Are but the break and close of day,

Grant us that love of truth sublime,
That love of goodness and of thee,
Which makes thy children, in all time,
To share thine own eternity.

LESSON XCVII.

The Western World.-BRYANT.

LATE, from this western shore, that morning chased The deep and ancient night, that threw its shroud O'er the green land of groves, the beautiful waste, Nurse of full streams, and lifter up of proud,

Sky-mingling mountains, that o'erlook the cloud. Erewhile, where yon gay spires their brightness rear,

Trees waved, and the brown hunter's shouts were loud Amid the forest; and the bounding deer

Fled at the glancing plume, and the gaunt wolf yelled near.

And where his willing waves yon bright blue bay
Sends up, to kiss his decorated brim,

And cradles, in his soft embrace, the gay
Young group of grassy islands born of him,
And, crowding nigh, or in the distance dim,
Lifts the white throng of sails, that bear or bring
The commerce of the world;-with tawny limb,
And belt and beads in sunlight glistening,

The savage urged his skiff like wild bird on the wing.

Then, all this joyful paradise around,

And all the broad and boundless mainland, lay Cooled by the interminable wood, that frowned O'er mound and vale, where never summer ray Glanced, till the strong tornado broke his way Through the gray giants of the sylvan wild;

Yet many a sheltered glade, with blossoms gay, Beneath the showery sky and sunshine mild, Within the shaggy arms of that dark forest smiled.

There stood the Indian hamlet, there the lake

Spread its blue sheet, that flashed with many an oar, Where the brown otter plunged him from the brake, And the deer drank as the light gale flew o'er, The twinkling maize-field rustled on the shore; And while that spot, so wild, and lone, and fair, A look of glad and innocent beauty wore,

And peace was on the earth and in the air,

The warrior lit the pile, and bound his captive there

Not unavenged: the foeman, from the wood,
Beheld the deed, and, when the midnight shade
Was stillest, gorged his battle-axe with blood:

All died-the wailing babe-the shrieking maid-

And in the flood of fire, that scathed the glade, The roofs went down; but deep the silence grew,

When on the dewy woods the day-beam played: No more the cabin smokes rose wreathed and blue, And ever, by their lake, lay moored the light canoe.

Look now abroad: another race has filled

These populous borders; wide the wood recedes, And towns shoot up, and fertile realms are tilled; The land is full of harvests and green meads; Streams numberless, that many a fountain feeds, Shine, disembowered, and give to sun and breeze Their virgin waters; the full region leads

New colonies forth, that toward the western seas Spread, like a rapid flame, among the autumnal trees.

Here the free spirit of mankind, at length,
Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place
A limit to the giant's unchained strength,
Or curb his swiftness in the forward race.
Far, like the comet's way through infinite space,
Stretches the long untravelled path of light

Into the depths of ages: we may trace,
Afar, the brightening glory of its flight,
Till the receding rays are lost to human sight.

Europe is given a prey to sterner fates,

And writhes in shackles; strong the arms that chain

To earth her struggling multitude of states.

She, too, is strong, and might not chafe in vain
Against them, but shake off the vampyre train
That batten on her blood, and break their net.

Yes, she shall look on brighter days, and gain
The meed of worthier deeds; the moment set
To rescue, and raise up, draws near-but is not yet.

But thou, my country, thou shalt never, fall,

But with thy children: thy maternal care, Thy lavish love, thy blessings showered on all,These are thy fetters: seas and stormy air

Are the wide barrier of thy borders, where,
Among thy gallant sons, that guard thee well,

Thou laugh'st at enemies: who shall then declare
The date of thy deep-founded strength, or tell
How happy, in thy lap, the sons of men shall dwell?

LESSON XCVIII.

Effects of the Institutions and Example of the first Settlers of New England.-QUINCY.

If we cast our eyes on the cities and great towns of New England, with what wonder should we behold, did not familiarity render the phenomenon almost unnoticed, men, combined in great multitudes, possessing freedom and the consciousness of strength,-the comparative physical power of the ruler less than that of a cobweb across a lion's path, -yet orderly, obedient, and respectful to authority; a people, but no populace; every class in reality existing, which the general law of society acknowledges, except one, and this exception characterizing the whole country! The soil of New England is trodden by no slave. In our streets, in our assemblies, in the halls of election and legislation, men of every rank and condition meet, and unite or divide on other principles, and are actuated by other motives, than those growing out of such distinctions. The fears and jealousies, which, in other countries, separate classes of men, and make them hostile to each other, have here no influence, or a very limited one.

Each individual, of whatever condition, has the consciousness of living under known laws, which secure equal rights, and guaranty to each whatever portion of the goods of life, be it great or small, chance, or talent, or industry may have bestowed. All perceive that the honors and rewards of society, are open equally to the fair competition of all; that the distinctions of wealth, or of power, are not fixed in families; that whatever of this nature exists to-day, may be changed to-morrow, or, in a coming generation, be absolutely reversed.

Common principles, interests, hopes and affections, are the result of universal education. Such are the consequences of the equality of rights, and of the provisions for the general diffusion of knowledge and the distribution of intestate estates, established by the laws framed by the earliest emigrants to New England.

If, from our cities, we turn to survey the wide expanse of the interior, how do the effects of the institutions and example of our early ancestors appear, in all the local comfort and accommodation, which mark the general condition of the whole country;-unobtrusive, indeed, but substantial; in nothing splendid, but in every thing sufficient and satisfactory. Indications of active talent and practical energy, exist every where. With a soil comparatively little luxuriant, and in great proportion either rock, or hill, or sand, the skill and industry of man are seen triumphing over the obstacles of nature; making the rock the guardian of the field; moulding the granite, as though it were clay; leading cultivation to the hill-top, and spreading over the arid plain hitherto unknown and unanticipated harvests.

The lofty mansion of the prosperous adjoins the lowly dwelling of the husbandman; their respective inmates are in the daily interchange of civility, sympathy and respect. Enterprise and skill, which once held chief affinity with the ocean or the sea-board, now begin to delight the interior, haunting our rivers, where the music of the waterfall, with powers more attractive than those of the fabled harp of Orpheus, collects around it intellectual man and material nature. Towns and cities, civilized and happy communities, rise, like exhalations, on rocks and in forests, till the deep and far-resounding voice of the neighboring torrent is itself lost and unheard, amid the predominating noise of successful and rejoicing labor.

What lessons has New England, in every period of her history, given to the world! What lessons do her condition and example still give! How unprecedented, yet how practical! How simple, yet how powerful! She has proved, that all the variety of Christian sects may live together in harmony, under a government, which allows equal privileges to all,-exclusive preeminence to none She has proved,