THE PERFECT SPEAKER.

Imagine to yourselves a Demosthenes addressing the most ill.u.s.trious a.s.sembly in the world, upon a point whereon the fate of the most ill.u.s.trious of nations depended.--How awful such a meeting! How vast the subject! Is man possessed of talents adequate to the great occasion?

Adequate--yes, superior. By the power of his eloquence; the augustness of the a.s.sembly is lost in the dignity of the orator; and the importance of the subject for a while superceded by the admiration of his talents.

With what strength of argument, with what powers of the fancy, with what emotions of the heart, does he a.s.sault and subjugate the whole man, and, at once, captivate his reason, his imagination, and his pa.s.sions!--To effect this, must be the utmost effort of the most improved state of human nature. Not a faculty that he possesses, is here unemployed: not a faculty that he possesses, but is here exerted to its highest pitch. All his internal powers are at work: all his external testify their energies. Within, the memory, the fancy, the judgment, the pa.s.sions are all busy: without, every muscle, every nerve is exerted; not a feature, not a limb, but speaks. The organs of the body attuned to the exertions of the mind, through the kindred organs of the hearers, instantaneously, and, as it were, with an electrical spirit, vibrate those energies from soul to soul. Notwithstanding the diversity of minds in such a mult.i.tude, by the lightning of eloquence, they are melted into one ma.s.s--the whole a.s.sembly actuated in one and the same way, become, as it were, but one man, and have but one voice. The universal cry is--LET US MARCH AGAINST PHILIP--LET US FIGHT FOR OUR LIBERTIES--LET US CONQUER--OR DIE!

_On the duties of School-Boys, from the pious and judicious_

ROLLIN.

Quintillian says, that he has included almost all the duty of scholars in this one piece of advice which he gives them, to love those who teach them, as they love the science which they learn of them; and to look upon them as fathers, from whom they derive not the life of the body, but that instruction which is in a manner the life of the soul. Indeed this sentiment of affection, and respect suffices to make them apt to learn during the time of their studies, and full of grat.i.tude all the rest of their lives. It seems to me to include a great part of what is to be expected from them.

Docility, which consists in submitting to directions, in readily receiving the instructions of their masters; and reducing them to practice, is properly the virtue of scholars, as that of masters is to teach well. The one can do nothing without the other; and as it is not sufficient for a labourer to sow the seed, unless the earth, after having opened its bosom to receive it, in a manner hatches, warms, and moistens it; so likewise the whole fruit of instruction depends upon a good correspondence between the masters and the scholars.

Grat.i.tude for those who have laboured in our education, is the character of an honest man, and the mark of a good heart. Who is there among us, says Cicero, that has been instructed with any care, that is not highly delighted with the sight, or even the bare remembrance of his preceptors, masters, and the place where he was taught and brought up?

Seneca exhorts young men to preserve always a great respect for their masters, to whose care they are indebted for the amendment of their faults, and for having imbibed sentiments of honour and probity. Their exactness and severity displease sometimes, at an age when we are not in a condition to judge of the obligations we owe to them; but when years have ripened our understanding and judgment, we then discern that what made us dislike them, I mean admonitions, reprimands, and a severe exactness in restraining the pa.s.sions of an imprudent and inconsiderate age, is expressly the very thing which should make us esteem and love them. Thus we see that Marcus Aurelius, one of the wisest and most ill.u.s.trious emperors that Rome ever had, thanked the G.o.ds for two things especially--for his having had excellent tutors himself, and that he had found the like for his children.

Quintillian, after having noted the different characters of the mind in children, draws, in a few words, the image of what he judged to be a perfect scholar; and certainly it is a very amiable one: "For my part,"

says he, "I like a child who is encouraged by commendation, is animated by a sense of glory, and weeps when he is outdone. A n.o.ble emulation will always keep him in exercise, a reprimand will touch him to the quick, and honour will serve instead of a spur. We need not fear that such a scholar will ever give himself up to sullenness." _Mihi ille detur puer, quem laus excitet, quem gloria juvet, qui virtus fleut. Hic erit alendus ambitu: hunc mordebit objurgetio; hunc honor excitabit; in hoc desidium nunquam verebor._

How great a value soever Quintillian sets upon the talents of the mind, he esteems those of the heart far beyond them, and looks upon the others as of no value without them. In the same chapter from whence I took the preceding words, he declares, he should never have a good opinion of a child, who placed his study in occasioning laughter, by mimicking the behaviour, mien, and faults of others; and he presently gives an admirable reason for it: "A child," says he, "cannot be truly ingenuous, in my opinion, unless he be good and virtuous; otherwise, I should rather choose to have him dull and heavy, than of a bad disposition."

_Non dubit spem bonoe indolis, qui hoc initandi studio pet.i.t, ut rideatur. Nam probus quoque imprimus erit ille vere ingeniosus: alioquinon pejus duxerim tardi esse ingenii, quam mali._

He displays to us all these talents in the eldest of his two children, whose character he draws, and whose death he laments in so eloquent and pathetic a strain, in the beautiful preface to his sixth book. I shall beg leave to insert here a small extract of it, which will not be useless to the boys, as they will find it a model which suits well with their age and condition.

Alter having mentioned his younger son, who died at five years old, and described the graces and beauties of his countenance, the prettiness of his expression, the vivacity of his understanding, which began to shine through the veil of childhood: "I had still left me," says he, "my son Quintillian, in whom I placed all my pleasure and all my hopes, and comfort enough I might have found in him; for, having now entered into his tenth year, he did not produce only blossoms like his younger brother, but fruits already formed, and beyond the power of disappointment.--I have much experience; but I never saw in any child, I do not say only so many excellent dispositions for the sciences, nor so much taste, as his masters know, but so much probity, sweetness, good nature, gentleness, and inclination to please and oblige, as I discerned in him."

"Besides this, he had all the advantages of nature, a charming voice, a pleasing countenance, and a surprising facility in p.r.o.nouncing well the two languages, as if he had been equally born for both of them.

"But all this was no more than hopes. I set a greater value upon his admirable virtues, his equality of temper, his resolution, the courage with which he bore up against fear and pain; for, how were his physicians astonished at his patience under a distemper of eight months continuance, when at the point of death he comforted me himself, and bade me not to weep for him! and delirious as he sometimes was at his last moments, his tongue ran on nothing else but learning and the sciences: O vain and deceitful hopes!" &c.

Are there many boys amongst us, of whom we can truly say so much to their advantage, as Quintillian says here of his son? What a shame would it be for them, if born and brought up in a Christian country, they had not even the virtues of Pagan children! I make no scruple to repeat them here again--docility, obedience, respect for their masters, or rather a degree of affection, and the source of an eternal grat.i.tude; zeal for study, and a wonderful thirst after the sciences, joined to an abhorrence of vice and irregularity; an admirable fund of probity, goodness, gentleness, civility, and liberality; as also patience, courage, and greatness of soul in the course of a long sickness.--What then was wanting to all these virtues?--That which alone could render them truly worthy the name, and must be in a manner the soul of them, and const.i.tute their whole value, the precious gift of faith and piety; the saving knowledge of a Mediator; a sincere desire of pleasing G.o.d, and referring all our actions to him.

_COLUMBIA._

_BY THE REVEREND DR. DWIGHT._

Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise, The queen of the world, and child of the skies!

Thy genius commands thee; with rapture behold, While ages on ages thy splendors unfold.

Thy reign is the last, and the n.o.blest of time, Most fruitful thy soil, most inviting thy clime; Let the crimes of the east ne'er encrimson thy name, Be Freedom, and Science, and Virtue, thy fame.

To conquest, and slaughter, let Europe aspire; Whelm nations in blood, and wrap cities in fire; Thy heroes the rights of mankind shall defend, And triumph pursue them, and glory attend.

A world is thy realm: for a world be thy laws, Enlarg'd as thine empire, and just as thy cause; On Freedom's broad basis, that empire shall rise; Extend with the main and dissolve with the skies.

Fair Science her gates to thy sons shall unbar, And the east see thy morn hide the beams of her star, New bards, and new sages, unrival'd shall soar To fame, unextinguish'd, when time is no more; To thee, the last refuge of virtue design'd, Shall fly from all nations, the best of mankind; Here, grateful to Heaven, with transports shall bring Their incense, more fragrant than odours of spring.

Nor less, shall thy fair ones to glory ascend, And Genius and Beauty in harmony blend; The graces of form shall awake pure desire, And the charms of the soul ever cherish the fire; Their sweetness unmingled, their manners refin'd, And virtue's bright image, instamp'd on the mind, With peace, and soft rapture, shall teach life to glow, And light up a smile in the aspect of woe.

Thy fleets to all regions thy pow'r shall display, The nations admire, and the ocean obey; Each sh.o.r.e to thy glory its tribute unfold, And the east and the south yield their spices and gold.

As the day-spring unbounded, thy splendor shall flow, And earth's little kingdoms before thee shall bow; While the ensigns of union, in triumph unfurl'd, Hush the tumult of war, and give peace to the world.

Thus, as down a lone valley, with cedars o'erspread, From war's dread confusion, I pensively stray'd-- The gloom from the face of fair heav'n retir'd; The winds ceas'd to murmur; the thunders expir'd; Perfumes, as of Eden, flow'd sweetly along, And a voice, as of angels, enchantingly sung: "Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise, The queen of the world, and the child of the skies"

THE CHOICE OF A RURAL LIFE.

_A POEM_,

Written by W.L. Esq. Gov. of N.J.

_THE ARGUMENT_.

_The subject proposed. Situation of the author's house. His frugality in his furniture. The beauties of the country. His love of retirement, and choice of his friends. A description of the morning. Hymn to the sun.

Contemplation of the Heavens. The existence of G.o.d inferred from a view of the beauty and harmony of the creation. Morning and evening devotion.

The vanity of riches and grandeur. The choice of his books. Praise of the marriage state. A knot of modern ladies described. The author's exit._

PHILOSOPHIC SOLITUDE, &c.

Let ardent heroes seek renown in arms, Pant after fame, and rush to war's alarms; To shining palaces let fools resort, And dunces cringe to be esteem'd at court: Mine be the pleasure of a _rural_ life, From noise remote, and ignorant of strife; Far from the painted belle, and white-glov'd beau, The lawless masquerade and midnight show; From ladies, lap-dogs, courtiers, garters, stars, Fops, fiddlers, tyrants, emperors, and czars.

Full in the centre of some shady grove, By nature form'd for solitude and love; On banks array'd with ever-blooming flow'rs, Near beaut'ous landscapes, or by roseate bow'rs, My neat, but simple mansion I would raise, Unlike the sumptuous domes of modern days; Devoid of pomp, with rural plainness form'd, With savage game, and glossy sh.e.l.ls adorn'd.

No costly furniture should grace my hall; But curling vines ascend against the wall, Whose pliant branches shou'd luxuriant twine, While purple cl.u.s.ters swell'd with future wine To slake my thirst a liquid lapse distill, From craggy rocks, and spread a limpid rill.

Along my mansion spiry firs should grow, And gloomy yews extend the shady row;

The cedars flourish, and the poplars rise Sublimely tall, and shoot into the skies: Among the leaves refreshing zephyrs play, And crouding trees exclude the noon-tide ray; Whereon the birds their downy nests should form, Securely shelter'd from the batt'ring storm; And to melodious notes their choir apply, Soon as Aurora blush'd along the sky: While all around the enchanting music rings, And every vocal grove reponsive sings.

Me to sequester'd scenes, ye muses guide, Where nature wanton's in her virgin pride, To mossy banks, edg'd round with op'ning flow'rs, Elysian fields and amaranthian bow'rs; T' ambrosial founts, and sleep-inspiring rills, To herbag'd vales, gay lawns, and funny hills.

Welcome ye shades! all hail, ye vernal blooms Ye bow'ry thickets, and prophetic glooms!

Ye forests hail! ye solitary woods!

Love-whispering groves and silver-streaming floods!

Ye meads, that aromatic sweets exhale!