scendants. Brought up, as I have been, in republican habits. and principles, I can feel nothing of the servile reverence for titled rank, merely because it is titled. But I trust I am neither churl nor bigot in my creed. I do see and feel how hereditary distinction, when it falls to the lot of a generous mind, may clevate that mind into true nobility. 7. It is one of the effects of hereditary rank, when it falls thus happily, that it multiplies the duties, and, as it were, extends the existence of the possessor. He does not feel himself a merc individual link in creation, responsible only for his own brief term of being. He carries back his existence in proud recollection, and he extends it forward in honorable anticipation. He lives with his ancestry, and he lives with his posterity. To both does he consider himself involved in deep responsibilities. As he has received much from those that have gone before, so he feels bound to transmit much to those who are to come after him. 8. His domestic undertakings seem to imply a longer existence than those of ordinary men. None are so apt to build and plant for future centuries, as noble-spirited men who have received their heritages from foregoing ages. I can easily imagine, therefore, the fondness and pride with which I have noticed. English gentlemen, of generous temperaments, but high aristocratic feelings, contemplating those magnificent trees, which rise like towers and pyramids from the midst of their paternal lands. There is an affinity between all natures, animate and inanimate. The oak, in the pride and lustihood of its growth, seems to me to take its range with the lion and the eagle, and to assimilate, in the grandeur of its attributes, to heroic and intellectual man. 9. With its mighty pillar rising straight and direct toward heaven, bearing up its leafy honors from the impurities of earth, and supporting them aloft in free air and glorious sunshine, it is an emblem of what a true nobleman should be; a refuge for the weak,—a shelter for the oppressed,-a defence for the defenceless; warding off from them the peltings of the storm, or the scorching rays of arbitrary power. He who is this, is an ornament and a blessing to his native land. He who is otherwise, abuses his eminent advantages;-abuses the grandeur and prosperity which he has drawn from the bosom of his country. Should tempests arise, and he be laid prostrate by the storm, who would mourn over his fall? Should he be borne down by the oppressive hand of power, who would murmur at his fate?"WHY CUMBERETH HE THE GROUND?" IRVING' 1. 2. 140. GOD'S FIRST TEMPLES. THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learn’d To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,❜ And spread the roof3 above them,-ere he framed The sound of anthems,-in the darkling wood, Only among the crowd, and under roofs That our frail hands have raised? Let me, at least, Here, in the shadow of this agèd wood, Offer one hymn; thrice happy, if it find Father, thy hand Hath rear'd these venerable columns: thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees. They in thy sun See Biographical Sketch, p. 114.- Architrave (årk' i tråv), in architecture, one of the parts of an order above the column which lies immediately upon it.—3 Roof. 3. Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, Here are seen No traces of man's pomp or pride; no silks 4. Here is continual worship; nature, here, In the tranquillity that thou dost love, Passes; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs, Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left Thyself without a witness, in these shades, Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace, In all the proud old world beyond the deep, Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower With scented breath, and look so like a smile, 6. My heart is awed within me, when I think 7. Lo! all grow old and die but see, again, Oh there is not lost One of earth's charms: upon her bosom yět, The freshness of her far beginning lies, Makes his own noŭrishment. For he came fōrth 8. There have been holy men, who hid themselves Less agèd than the hoary trees and rocks Around them; and there have been holy men, But let me often to these solitudes Retire, and, in thy presence, reassure My feeble virtue. Here, its enemies, 9. The passions, at thy plainer footsteps, shrink, O God! when thou The swift, dark whirlwind, that uproots' the woods, BRYANT. 1. 141. TRUST IN GOD. HOW beautiful this dome of sky! And the vast hills, in fluctuation fix'd At Thy command, how awful! Shall the soul, Even less than these? Be mute who will, who can, My lips, that may forget Thee in the crowd, 2. Me didst Thou constitute a priest of Thine, Rear'd for Thy presence; therefore am I bound 'Up root'.- Wråth 'See Biographical Sketch, p. 118. |