there felt and admired by intelligent worshippers? And what is this world, in the immensity which teems with them? and what are they who occupy it? The universe at large would suffer as little, in its splendor and variety, by the destruction of our planet, as the verdure and sublime magnitude of a forest, would suffer by the fall of a single leaf. The leaf quivers on the branch which supports it. It lies at the mercy of the slightest accident. A breath of wind tears it from its stem, and it lights on the stream of water which passes underneath. In a moment, the life, which, we know by the microscope, it teems with, is extinguished; and an occurrence so insignificant in the eye of man, and on the scale of his observation, carries in it, to the myriads which people this little leaf, an event as terrible and as decisive as the destruction of a world. Now, on the grand scale of the universe, we, the occupiers of this ball-which performs its little round, among the suns and the systems that astronomy has unfolded-we may feel the same littleness and the same insecurity. We differ from the leaf only in this circumstance, that it would require the operation of greater elements to destroy us. But these elements exist; and, if let loose upon us by the hand of the Almighty, they would spread solitude, and silence, and death, over the dominions of the world. Now, it is this littleness, and this insecurity, which make the protection of the Almighty so dear to us, and bring, with such emphasis, to every pious bosom, the holy lessons of humility and gratitude. The God who sits above, and presides in high authority over all worlds, is mindful of man; and though at this moment his energy is felt in the remotest provinces of creation, we may feel the same security in his providence, as if we were the objects of his undivided care. It is not for us to bring our minds up to this mysterious agency. But such is the incomprehensible fact, that the same Being, whose eye is abroad over the whole universe, gives vegetation to every blade of grass, and motion to every particle of blood which circulates through the veins of the minutest animal; that, though his mind takes into its comprehensive grasp, immensity and all its wonders, I am as much known to him as if I were the single object of his at tention; that he marks all my thoughts; that he gives birth to every feeling and every movement within me; and that, with an exercise of power which I can neither describe not comprehend, the same God, who sits in the highest heaven, and reigns over the glories of the firmament, is at my right hand, to give me every breath which I draw, and every comfort which I enjoy. LESSON CXLIV. Rome.-BYRON. O ROME! my country! city of the soul! What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. The Niobe of nations! there she stands, Of their heroic dwellers. Dost thou flow, Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress! The Goth, the Christian, Time, War, Flood and Fire, She saw her glories, star by star, expire, And up the steep barbarian monarchs ride, Where the car climbed the capitol; far and wide, Temple and tower went down, nor left a site : Chaos of ruins! who shall trace the void, O'er the dim fragments cast a lunar light, Alas! the lofty city! and alas! The trebly hundred triumphs! and the day Alas! for earth, for never shall we see That brightness in her eye, she bore when Rome was free! LESSON CXLV. Dialogue:-Rienzi and Angelo.-MISS MITFORD. Rienzi. FRIENDS, I come not here to talk. Ye know too well Strong in some hundred spearmen-only great In that strange spell, a name. Each hour, dark fraud, Cries out against them. But this very day, An honest man, my neighbor,-there he stands,- The badge of Ursini; because, forsooth, Full of all gentleness, of calmest hope, Of sweet and quiet joy; there was the look For vengeance.-Rouse, ye Romans! Rouse, ye slaves! Was greater than a king! And once, again,— Angelo. (Entering.) What be ye, Ang. Surely Thou art Cola di Rienzi? Rie. Ay, the voice The traitor voice. Ang. I know thee by the words. Who, save thyself, in this bad age, when man Rie. I shall teach The world to blend those words, as in the days Big tear-drops on thy cheeks, and thy young hand Ang. Hear me, Rienzi. Even now my spirit leaps up at the thought With the golden blaze of heaven, but past and gone, Rie. A dream! Dost see yon phalanx, still and stern? A hundred leaders, each with such a band, So armed, so resolute, so fixed in will, Wait with suppressed impatience till they hear The great bell of the capitol, to spring At once on their proud foes. Join them. Ang. My father! Rie. Already he hath quitted Rome. Rie. We are too strong for contest. Thou s From darkness into light. We talk too long. |