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When Law never dreamed it was good to relent,
Or thought it less wisdom to kill than prevent;
When Justice herself, taking Law for her guide,
Was never appeased till a victim had died;
And the stealer of sheep and the slayer of men
Were strung up together, again and again.

They were days when the Crowd had no freedom of speech,
And reading and writing were out of its reach;
When Ignorance, stolid and dense, was its doom,
And Bigotry swathed it from cradle to tomb;
When the Few thought the Many mere workers for them,
To use them, and when they had used, to contemn;
And the Many, poor fools! thought the treatment their due
And crawled in the dust at the feet of the Few!

No! The Present, though clouds o'er her countenance roll,
Has a light in her eyes, and a hope in her soul;
And we are too wise like the Bigots to mourn
For the darkness of days that shall never return.
Worn out and extinct, may their history serve
As a beacon to warn us, whenever we swerve,
To shun the Oppression, the Folly and Crime,
That blacken the page of that Record of Time.
Their chivalry lightened the gloom, it is true,
And Honor and Loyalty dwelt with the Few;
But small was the light, and of little avail,
Compared with the blaze of our Press and our Rail;
Success to that blaze! May it shine over all,
Till Ignorance learn with what grace she may fall,
And fly from the world with the sorrow she wrought,
And leave it to Virtue and Freedom of Thought.

81. THE WORK-SHOP AND THE CAMP. -For a Mechanic Celebration

THE Camp has had its day of song:

The sword, the bayonet, the plume,
Have crowded out of rhyme too long

The plough, the anvil, and the loom!
O, not upon our tented fields

Are Freedom's heroes bred alone;
The training of the Work-shop yields

More heroes true than War has known'

Who drives the bolt, who shapes the steel,
May, with a heart as valiant, smite,
As he who sees a foeman reel

In blood before his blow of might!

The skill that conquers space and time,
That graces life, that lightens toil,
May spring from courage more sublime
Than that which makes a realm its spoil.

Let Labor, then, look up and see

His craft no pith of honor lacks ;
The soldier's rifle yet shall be

Less honored than the woodman's axe!
Let Art his own appointment prize;

Nor deem that gold or outward height
Can compensate the worth that lies

In tastes that breed their own delight.

And may the time draw nearer still,

When men this sacred truth shall heed. -
That from the thought and from the will
Must all that raises man proceed!
Though Pride should hold our calling low,
For us shall duty make it good;
And we from truth to truth shall go,
Till life and death are understood.

82. THE WISE MAN'S PRAYER.-Dr. Samuel Johnson.

INQUIRER, cease! petitions yet remain

Which Heaven may hear; -nor deem religion vain.
Still raise for good the supplicating voice,
But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice
Safe in His power, whose eyes discern afar
The secret ambush of a specious pray'r;
Implore His aid, in His decisions rest,
Secure, whate'er He gives, He gives the best.
Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires,
And strong devotion to the skies aspires,
Pour forth thy fervors for a healthful mind,
Obedient passions, and a will resigned;
For love, which scarce collective man can fill;
For patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill;
For faith, that, panting for a happier seat,
Counts death kind Nature's signal for retreat:
These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain ;
These goods He grants who grants the power to gain
With these, celestial Wisdom calms the mind,

And makes the happiness she does not find.



1. SCIPIO TO HIS ARMY. - Abridgment from Livy.

Before the battle of Ticinus, B. C. 218, in which the Carthaginians, under Hannibal, were victorious. The speech of the latter, on the same occasion, follows.

NOT because of their courage, O soldiers, but because an engagement is now inevitable, do the enemy prepare for battle. Two-thirds of their infantry and cavalry have been lost in the passage of the Alps. Those who survive hardly equal in number those who have perished. Should any one say, "Though few, they are stout and irresistible," I reply, Not so! They are the veriest shadows of men; wretches, emaciated with hunger, and benumbed with cold; bruised and enfeebled among the rocks and crags; their joints frost-bitten, their sinews stiffened with the snow, their armor battered and shivered, their horses lame and powerless. Such is the cavalry, such the infantry, against which you have to contend; - not enemies, but shreds and remnants of enemies! And I fear nothing more, than that when you have fought Hannibal, the Alps may seem to have been beforehand, and to have robbed you of the renown of a victory. But perhaps it was fitting that the Gods themselves, irrespective of human aid, should commence and carry forward a war against a leader and a people who violate the faith of treaties; and that we, who next to the Gods have been most injured, should complete the contest thus commenced, and nearly finished.

I would, therefore, have you fight, O soldiers, not only with that spirit with which you are wont to encounter other enemies, but with a certain indignation and resentment, such as you might experience if you should see your slaves suddenly taking up arms against you. We might have slain these Carthaginians, when they were shut up in Eryx, by hunger, the most dreadful of human tortures. We might have carried over our victorious fleet to Africa, and, in a few days, have destroyed Carthage, without opposition. We yielded to their prayers for pardon; we released them from the blockade; we made peace with them when conquered; and we afterwards held them under our protection, when they were borne down by the African war. In return for these benefits, they come, under the leadership of a hotbrained youth, to lay waste our country. Ah! would that the contest on your side were now for glory, and not for safety! It is not

for the possession of Sicily and Sardinia, but for Italy, that you must fight: nor is there another army behind, which, should we fail to conquer, can resist the enemy: nor are there other Alps, during the passage of which, fresh forces may be procured. Here, soldiers, here we must make our stand. Here we must fight, as if we fought before the walls of Rome! Let every man bear in mind, it is not only his own person, but his wife and children, he must now defend. Nor let the thought of them alone possess his mind. Let him remember that the Roman Senate-the Roman People are looking, with anxious eyes, to our exertions; and that, as our valor and our strength shall this day be, such will be the fortune of Rome - such the welfare-nay, the very existence, of our country!

2. HANNIBAL TO HIS ARMY. - Abridgment from Livy.

HERE, soldiers, you must either conquer or die. On the right and left two seas enclose you; and you have no ship to fly to for escape. The river Po around you, the Po, larger and more impetuous than the Rhone, the Alps behind, scarcely passed by you when fresh and vigorous, hem you in. Here Fortune has granted you the termination of your labors; here she will bestow a reward worthy of the service you have undergone. All the spoils that Rome has amassed by so many triumphs will be yours. Think not that, in proportion as this war is great in name, the victory will be difficult. From the Pillars of Hercules, from the ocean, from the remotest limits of the world, over mountains and rivers, you have advanced victorious through the fiercest Nations of Gaul and Spain. And with whom are you now to fight? With a raw army, which this very summer was beaten, conquered, and surrounded; an army unknown to their leader, and he to them! Shall I compare myself, almost born, and certainly bred, in the tent of my father, that illustrious commander, myself, the conqueror, not only of the Alpine Nations, but of the Alps themselves, myself, who was the pupil of you all, before I became your commander, to this six months' general? or shall I compare his army with mine?

On what side soever I turn my eyes, I behold all full of courage and strength:-a veteran infantry; a most gallant cavalry; you, our allies, most faithful and valiant; you, Carthaginians, whom not only your country's cause, but the justest anger, impels to battle. The valor, the confidence of invaders, are ever greater than those of the defensive party. As the assailants in this war, we pour down, with hostile standards, upon Italy. We bring the war. Suffering, injury and indignity, fire our minds. First they demanded me, your leader, for punishment; and then all of you, who had laid siege to Saguntum. And, had we been given up, they would have visited us with the severest tortures. Cruel and haughty Nation! Everything must be yours, and at your disposal! You are to prescribe to us with

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whom we shall have war, with whom peace! You are to snut us up by the boundaries of mountains and rivers, which we must not pass! But you-you are not to observe the limits yourselves have appointed! "Pass not the Ibērus!"- What next? Saguntum is on the Ibērus. You must not move a step in any direction!"- Is it a small thing that you have deprived us of our most ancient provinces, Sicily and Sardinia? Will you take Spain also? Should we yield Spain, you will cross over into Africa. Will cross, did I say? They have sent the two Consuls of this year, one to Africa, the other to Spain !

Soldiers, there is nothing left to us, in any quarter, but what we can vindicate with our swords. Let those be cowards who have something to look back upon; whom, flying through safe and unmolested roads, their own country will receive. There is a necessity for us to be brave. There is no alternative but victory or death; and, if it must be death, who would not rather encounter it in battle than in flight? The immortal Gods could give no stronger incentive to victory. Let but these truths be fixed in your minds, and once again I proclaim, you are conquerors!

ILL does it become me, O Senators of Rome! - ill does it become Regulus, after having so often stood in this venerable Assembly clothed with the supreme dignity of the Republic, to stand before you a captive the captive of Carthage! Though outwardly I am free, though no fetters encumber the limbs, or gall the flesh,— yet the heaviest of chains, the pledge of a Roman Consul, — makes me the bondsman of the Carthaginians. They have my promise to return to them, in the event of the failure of this their embassy. My life is at their mercy. My honor is my own; a possession which no reverse of fortune can jeopard; a flame which imprisonment cannot stifle, time cannot dim, death cannot extinguish.

Of the train of disasters which followed close on the unexampled successes of our arms, - of the bitter fate which swept off the flower of our soldiery, and consigned me, your General, wounded and senseless, to Carthaginian keeping, I will not speak. For five years, a rigorous captivity has been my portion. For five years, the society of family and friends, the dear amenities of home, the sense of freedom and the sight of country, have been to me a recollection and a dream,

no more! But during that period Rome has retrieved her defeats. She has recovered under Metellus what under Regulus she lost. She has routed armies. She has taken unnumbered prisoners. She has struck terror to the hearts of the Carthaginians; who have now sent me hither with their Ambassadors, to sue for peace, and to propose that, in exchange for me, your former Consul, a thousand common prisoners of war shall be given up. You have heard the Ambassa


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