degrade to a lower point their estimation of virtue, and their standard of action? It would not merely demoralize mankind. It tends to break all the ligaments of society, to dissolve that mysterious charm which attracts individuals to the nation, and to inspire in its stead a repulsive sense of shame and disgust. What is patriotism? Is it narrow affection for the spot where a man was born? Are the very clods where we tread, entitled to this ardent preference because they are greener? No! this is not the character of the virtue. It soars higher for its object. It is an extended self-love, mingling with all the enjoyments of life, and twisting itself Iwith the minutest filaments of the heart. It is thus that we obey the laws of society, because they are the laws of virtue. In their authority we see, not the array of force and terror, but the venerable image of our country's honor. Every good citizen makes that honor his own, and cherishes it, not only as precious, but as sacred. He is willing to risk his life in its defense, and is conscious that he gains protection while he gives it. For, what rights of a citizen will be deemed inviolable, when a state renounces the principles that constitute their security? Or, if his life should not be invaded, what would its enjoyments be in a country, odious in the eyes of strangers, and dishonored in his own? Could he look with affection and veneration to such a country as his parent? The sense of having one would die within him. He would blush for his patriotism, if he retained any, and justly, for it would be a vice. He would be a banished man in his native land. I see no exception to the respect that is paid among nations to the law of good faith. It is observed by barbarians. A whiff of tobacco-smoke, or a string of beads gives not merely binding force, but sanctity to treaties. Even in Algiers a truce may be bought for money; but when ratified, even Algiers is too wise or too just to disown and annul its obligation. If there could be a resurrection from the foot of the gallows, if the victims of justice could live again, and form a society, they would soon find themselves obliged to make justice, that justice under which they fell, the fundamental law of their state. They would perceive it was their interest to make others respect, and they would therefore soon pay some respect themselves, to the obligations of good faith. Let me not even imagine, that a republican government, whose origin is right, and whose daily discipline is duty, can, upon solemn debate, make its option to be faithless: can dare to act what despots dare not avow. FROM FISHER AMES. CLVIII.-PUBLIC VIRTUE. THERE is a sort of courage, which, I frankly confess, I do not possess; a boldness to which I dare not aspire, a valor which I can not covet. I can not lay myself down in the way of the welfare and happiness of my country. That I have not the courage to do. I can not interpose the power with which I may be invested; a power conferred, not for my personal benefit, nor for my aggrandizement, but for my country's good; to check her onward march to greatness and glory. I have not courage enough. I am too cowardly for that. I would not, I dare not, in the exercise of such a threat, lie down, and place my body across the path that leads my country to prosperity and happiness. This is a sort of courage widely different from that, which a man may display in his private conduct and personal relations. Personal or private courage is totally distinct from that higher and nobler courage, which prompts the patriot to offer himself a voluntary sacrifice to his country's good. Apprehensions of the imputation of the want of firmness, sometimes impel us to perform rash and inconsiderate acts. It is the greatest courage to be able to bear the imputation of the want of courage. But pride, vanity, egotism, so unamiable and offensive in private life, are vices which partake of the character of crimes, in the conduct of public affairs. The unfortunate victim of these passions can not see beyond the little, petty, contemptible circle of his own personal interests. All his thoughts are withdrawn from his country, and concentrated on his consistency, his firmness, himself! The high, the exalted, the sublime emotions of a patriotism which, soaring toward Heaven, rises far above all mean, low, or selfish things, and is absorbed by one soul-transporting thought of the good and the glory of one's country, are never felt in his impenetrable bosom. That patriotism which, catching its inspirations from the immortal God, and, leaving at an immeasurable distance all lesser, groveling, personal interests and feelings, animates and prompts to deeds of self-sacrifice, of valor, of devotion, and of death itself, that is public virtue; that is the noblest, the sublimest of all public virtues ! FROM HENRY CLAY. are. CLIX.-DUTY OF A CHIEF MAGISTRATE. WE live under a constitution. It has made us what we What has carried the American flag all over the world? What is it now that represents us so respectably all over Europe, and all over the world? What is it but the result of those commercial regulations which bound us all together, and made our commerce the same commerce; which made all the States,-New York, Massachusetts, South Carolina,-in the aspect of our foreign relations, the same country, without division, distraction, or separation? Now, this was the original design of the constitution. We, in our day, must see that this spirit is made to pervade the whole administration of the government. The constitution of the United States, to keep us united, to keep flowing in our hearts a fraternal feeling, must be administered in the spirit of it. And, if I wish to have the spirit of the constitution, in its living, speaking, animated form, I would refer always, always, to the administration of the first president, George Washington. If I were now to form the ideal of a patriot President, I would draw his master strokes, and copy his design. I would present this picture before me as a constant study for life. I would present his policy, alike liberal, just, narrowed down to no sectional interests, bound down to no personal objects, held to no locality, but broad, and generous, and open; as expansive as the air which is wafted by the winds of heaven from one part of the country to another. I would draw a picture of his foreign policy; just, steady, stately, but, withal, proud, and lovely, and glorious. No man could say, in his day, that the broad escutchion of the honor of the Union could receive either injury or damage, or even contumely or disrespect. His own character gave character to the foreign relations of the country. He upheld every interest of his country, in even the proudest nations of Europe; and, while resolutely just, he was resolutely determined that no plume of her renown should ever be defaced. A wise and prudent shipmaster makes it his first duty to preserve the vessel that carries him and his merchandise; to keep her afloat, to conduct her to her destined port with entire security of property and life. That is his first object; and that should be the object, and is, of every chief magistrate of the United States who has a proper appreciation of his duty. It is to preserve the constitution which bears him, which sustains the government, without which every thing goes to the bottom. It is to preserve that, and keep it, to the utmost of his ability, off the rocks and shoals, and away from the quicksands. To preserve that, he exercises the caution of the experienced shipmaster; he suffers nothing to betray his watchfulness, to draw him aside from the joint interests committed to his care, and the great object in view. "Though pleased to see the dolphins play, He minds his compass and his way; At helm he makes his reason sit; CLX.-TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO. WAKE your harp's music! louder, higher, And smite again each quivering wire Shout like those godlike men of old, Who, daring storm and foe, On this blessed soil their anthem rolled, From native shores by tempests driven, And found, beneath a milder heaven, An altar rose, and prayers; a ray TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! They knelt them on the desert sand, They stood upon the red man's sod, The warrior's red right arm was bared, The dark chiefs yelled alarm and swore And his hewn bones should bleach their shore, |