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Look, where the pious throng

In holy aisle for worship congregate;

And where the independent crowd, debate

A real or fancied wrong:

Or look, where judges sit, and statesmen stand,
Thou hoverest near, with dart-uplifted hand.

Gaze on the father's face,

When wife and children gather round the hearth;
While he instructs, she, partial, guides their mirth,---
How happy is the place!

Yet, in the moment of his pride or prayer,

Thou com'st unseen, and strik'st the dearest there.

Around my humble hearth,

A loving wife and prattling children smile,
Whose winning ways my weary cares beguile
With unrestricted mirth.

Destroyer Death! thy visit there delay-
spare the loved, till some far future day!

But soon the feeble hand

That vainly pens this ineffectual lay,
Shall passive sink beneath thy awful sway,
And join the spectre band.

Then, Heaven, on thee the father will rely,
To shield his orphans, and their wants supply!

Thou, who from pole to pole

Sustain'st with wond'rous skill earth's mighty round,
And guid'st through space, hast Death in limits bound---

And the immortal soul

Thy precious gift-he only comes to free,
But dares not touch---it soars unharmed to Thee.

When dawns the day of doom

At the dread trumpet's sound, and sun and skies
Dissolve, the good and guilty shall arise

To judgment from the tomb !

Then, to the King of Kings thou shalt restore
Thy sceptre, Death, and reign on earth no more!

J. L.

THE LATE THEODORE SEDGWICK.

OF STOCKBRIDGE, MASS.

write their epitaph. The particular opinions which they have defended, may perish like all error, or survive like all truth; but the result will not affect that which was the true element of their greatness-it will burn around their names and they shall be bright and illustrious forever.

We willingly give place to the following notice of Mr. Sedgwick, understood to be from the pen of that accomplished scholar and gentleman, G. A. Worth Esq. of the city of New York. The reputation of Mr. S. is abroad-of his opinions each one will judge for himself—his object, which was to 'do good,' none will fail to commend. We leave further remark to be made in the language of the extract below.]-Ed. Lit. Mess.

[From the New-York American.]

Few men have passed through life with more rectitude of mind and purpose, than the late THEODORE SEDGWICK. To a naturally mild and amiable temperament, he added a cultivated intellect, an unaffected benevolence, and great simplicity of manners. His mind was active and enquiring; his judgment just, his morality pure, and his principles well defined and well reflected.

He enjoyed the great and unspeakable advantage of having but little within his own breast to contend with. He had no latent or secret springs of evil in his nature, which his resolution was called upon to repress. He had none of those dark or violent passions, against which reason and virtue sometimes strive in vain. But, on the contrary, the genial spirit of mildness and of sociality reigned in his bosom. The liveliest sympathies, the warmest affections, the most unsophisticated feelings, were his. He carried their impress in his countenance; they were manifest in his voice, his air, his manner. Their influence ennobled his conduct, even while they concealed from the superficial observer the character of his talents.

I know of no instance in which integrity so vindicated the loftiness of its nature, as in him. The consciousness of rectitude, and the entire freedom from all malignity of thought or purpose, seemed to throw around him an air of ease, of self-respect, and even of dignity, which no rank or talent could confer.

His personal appearance was strikingly plain. He was not only free from the pride of appearance, but negligent in his dress; while his address was unpretending, simple, and familiar. Nor was there much of elegance or of polish ei

word gentleman was written, as it were, in letters of light all over him. No habit, no situation, no circumstance could conceal it. This living impress of character, was, I think, the natural offspring of the purity and manliness of his mind. I have no great faith in the doctrine of hereditary virtues. yet there is something in name-something perhaps in blood. The early annals of Massachusetts bear testimony to the character of his ancestors. His father, the Hon. Theodore Sedgwick, was distinguished in the Revolutionary war, by his activity and zeal in the cause of the country; the insurrectionary movements in his native state. He was, and subsequently by his courage and address in quelling however, better known, and more distinguished as a civilian, statesman and jurist, under the administrations of Washington and the elder Adams-having filled in succession the several stations of Speaker of the House of Representatives, President pro. tem, of the United States Senate, and

[Truly great men, belong exclusively to no sec-ther in his language or style of expression; and yet the tion of country-to no party. Talent and patriotism are not thus confined; they rise above the narrow limits of sectarism and the heated atmosphere of debate, into clearer and purer air, and become the admiration of all. However much men of this kind may err-liable as they are to the weaknesses of our common nature-you will always find in them the originators of powerful thought, the defenders of important truths, and they leave the achievements of their toil as a priceless inheritance to the race. While living, their peculiar opinions may expose them to attack from those who differ with them—still the hearts of the candid will always bestow upon them the tribute of respect; and when they die, they will take their places among the Judge of the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts. laurelled tombs of earth's mighty-one's who have Thus the family of Mr. Sedgwick may be considered as gone before them, and posterity will not fail to belonging to what would now be termed the Aristocracy of

the country; in other words, as ranking among the friends and framers of the Constitution, and among the enlightened advocates of order and of law. It would have been singular indeed, if Mr. Sedgwick, inheriting the high and gentlemanly qualities of family, had not also imbibed their political principles. I became personally acquainted with Mr. Sedgwick in the year 1806, and certain it is that he belonged not to the Democracy of that day-a democracy which, dimmed and adulterated as it was by the visionary theories of its illustrious founder, was yet pure and noble in comparison with the mongrel school that has subsequently usurped its

name.

At the period above referred to, Mr. Sedgwick had just commenced the practice of the law in the city of Albany, ranking high in his profession, and still higher in society. Had he been covetous of wealth, his industry alone would have secured it. Had he been ambitious of professional eminence, his talents placed the object within his reach. Had he aimed at political distinction, his personal popularity, the manliness of his mind, and the attractive urbanity of his manners, would have rendered his success certain. But it was not in his nature, I may say it was not in his power, to place his heart upon either of these.

The original foundations of his character were cast too deep-his desires were too moderate, his philosophy too just. Young as he then was, he seemed to have cast his eye over the landscape of life, of men and of things, and to have viewed the scene with doubt and distrust. The great objects of vulgar pursuit, he thought, were not worth the struggle.

Satisfied with a simple competency, which he had slowly and honorably acquired, he retired from his profession while yet in the prime of life, and, with unremitting diligence, devoted himself to doing good.

I may be mistaken, but I cannot conceive of a higher or nobler object. The path is a noiseless one to be sure--but the pleasure it must afford is measureless. No reputation of learning-no renown of science-no military glory, can reach it. It is, in truth, realizing the promise and illustrating the precepts of Christianity. I would give more for the exalted sentiments that must fill the breast of him whose rule of life is to do good to others, than for all the glory that ever was acquired by a subserviency to chiefs, civil or military.

In his efforts to promote the interests of others, Mr. Sedgwick did not confine himself to any particular class, occupation or walk in life. Encouraged, perhaps, by the example of his universally admired and highly gifted sister, he employed his pen upon several subjects, and with ability and success. He gave a portion of his time to the public in the Legislature of his native State, and devoted still more to the agricultural interests of the country in which he resided. Horticulture, literature, and even politics, occupied his leisure hours.

SONGS.

'TIS SWEET WHEN DAILY LABOR O'ER.

"Tis sweet when daily labor o'er,
And all is calm and free,
To tread old Ocean's sounding shore,
And list the murmuring sea:

To catch the low wind's funeral sigh
Above where thousands sleep---
And hear the sea-bird's lonely cry
Upon the far-off deep!

And when on Death's dim, shadowy shore,
At Life's faint twilight driven...
Calm let us view the waters o'er,

And boldly launch for Heaven!

'TIS SWEET AT EVENING'S TRANQUIL HOUR.
"Tis sweet at Evening's tranquil hour,
When all is hushed and still,

To seek some favorite haunt or bower,
And muse at silent will.

No doubts distract, no fears annoy,

To vex the peaceful breast;
But all is pure and quiet joy,

'Mid slumbering Nature's rest!
And oh, when earthly cares shall cease,
At Life's still evening-close---

How sweet to leave Earth's bower in peace,
For Heaven's secure repose!

No more to sigh 'neath Grief's control---
From friends no more to sever---
While the celestial ages roll

For ever, and for ever!

North Carolina, Dec. 1839.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

C. W. E.

Mr. White :-While the present Sovereign of Great Britain is occupying so much of the world's attention, the following account of one of her predecessors may not prove uninteresting to your readers. Yours,

BY EDMUND BOHUN, ESQ.,

UDOCH.

As published in "Nichols's Progresses and Processions."

I have already alluded to his early political opinions; that A CHARACTER OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. they underwent some change, and partook, in some degree, of the miscalled reformations of the day, I have reason to believe. But whatever they were, in him they were honest, sincere and perfectly disinterested. Few men are capable of Before day, every morning, she heard the petiresisting the pressure of opinions that are continually bear- tions of those that had any business with her; and, ing upon them; and zeal, however honest in periods of ex- calling her Secretaries of State, and Masters of citement, becomes, in some measure, a disease. His politi- Requests, she caused the order of council, proclacal associations in the latter part of his life, were certainly the reverse of those with which he commenced it; and it mations, patents, and all other papers relating to is possible that the reiterated pretensions to the greatest the public, to be read, which were then depending; philanthropy, the purest benevolence, the largest liberty, and gave such order in each affair as she thought &c. &c., may have been considered as sincere, and hence fit, which was set down in short notes, either by may have produced some influence upon his mind. But a herself, or her secretaries. As often as any thing truer patriot, a sincerer friend, a more upright and conscientious man, never lived. An acquaintance of more than happened that was difficult, she called her great thirty years, authorizes me to bear this testimony to his vir- and wise men to her; and proposing the diversity W. of opinions, she very attentively considered and

tues and his memory.

weighed on which side the strongest reason lay- with learned men, that had travelled, in the pre

ever preferring that way which seemed most to promote the public welfare and safety. When she was thus wearied with her morning work, she would take a walk, if the sun shined, into her garden; or otherwise in her galleries, especially in windy or rainy weather. She would then cause Stanhope, or Sir Henry Saville, or some other learned man, to be called to walk with her, and entertain her with some learned subject; the rest of the day she spent in private, reading history or some other learning, with great care and attention; not out of ostentation, and a vain ambition of being always learning something, but out of a diligent care to enable herself thereby to live the better, and to avoid sin; and she would commonly have some learned man with her, or near her, to assist her, whose labor and industry she would well reward. Thus she spent her winter.

sence of many, and ask them many questions concerning the government, customs, and discipline, used abroad. She loved a natural jester, that would tell a story pleasantly, and humor it with his countenance, and gesture and voice; but she hated all those praters who made bold with other men's reputations, or defamed them. She detested, as ominous and unfortunate, all dwarfs and monstrous births. She loved little dogs, singing birds, parrots and apes; and when she was in private, she would recreate herself with various discourses-a game at chess, dancing, or singing. Then she would retire into her bed-chamber, where she was attended by married ladies of the nobility, the Marchioness of Winchester, (then a widow,) the Countess of Warwick, and the Lord Scroop's Lady, whose husband was governor of the West Marshes. She would seldom suffer any one to wait upon her In the summer time, when she was hungry, she there, except Leicester, Hatton, Essex, Nottingwould eat something that was of light and easy ham, and Sir Walter Rawleigh, who were more digestion, in her chamber, with the windows open intimately conversant with her than any other of to admit the gentle breezes of wind from the gar- the Courtiers. She frequently mixed serious things dens or pleasant hills. Sometimes she would do with her jests and her mirth; and upon festival this alone, but more commonly she would have her days, and especially in Christmas time, she would friends with her then. When she had thus satis- play at cards and tables, which was one of her fied her hunger and thirst with a moderate repast, usual pastimes; and if at any time she happened she would rest awhile upon an Indian couch, cu- to win, she would be sure to demand the money. riously and richly covered. In the winter time she When she found herself sleepy, she would take her observed the same order, but omitted her noon sleep. leave of them that were present with much kindWhen her day was thus spent, she went late to ness and gravity, and so betake her to her rest— supper, which was ever sparing, and very mode- some lady of good quality, and of her intimate rate. At supper she would divert herself with her acquaintance, always lying in the same chamber. friends and attendants; and if they made her no And besides her guards, that were always upon answer, she would put them upon mirth and plea-duty, there was a gentleman of good quality and sant discourse with great civility. She would also then admit Tarleton, a famous comedian, and a pleasant talker, and other such like men, to divert Though she was endowed with all the goods of her with stories of the town, and the common jests nature and fortune, and adorned with all those or accidents; but so that they kept within the things which are valuable and to be desired, yet bounds of modesty and chastity. In the winter there were some things in her that were capable of time, after supper, she would sometimes hear a amendment; nor was there ever any mortal, whose song, or a lesson or two, played upon a lute; but virtues were not eclipsed by the neighborhood of she would be much offended if there was any rude- some vices and imperfections. She was subject to ness to any person-any reproach or licentious re- be vehemently transported with anger; and when flection used. Tarleton, who was then the best she was so, she would show it by her voice, her comedian in England, had made a pleasant play; countenance, and her hands. She would chide her and when it was acted before the Queen, he pointed familiar servants so loud, that they that stood afar at Sir Walter Rawleigh and said-'See, the knave off might sometimes hear her voice. And it was commands the Queen;' for which he was corrected reported, that for small offences she would strike by a frown from the Queen: yet he had the confi- her Maids of Honor with her hand-but then her dence to add, that he was of too much and too in- anger was short and very innocent; and she learned tolerable a power; and going on with the same from Xenophon's book of the institutions of Cyrus, liberty was so universally applauded by all that the method of curbing and correcting this unruly were present, that she thought fit for the present passion. And when her friends acknowledged to bear these reflections with a seeming unconcern- their offences, she with an appeased mind easily edness. But yet she was so offended, that she for- forgave them many things. She was also of opibade Tarleton and all her jesters from coming near nion that severity was safe, and too much clemency her table, being inwardly displeased with this im- was destructive; and therefore, in her punishments pudent and unreasonable liberty. She would talk and justice, she was the more severe.

some others, up in the next chamber, who were to wake her in case any thing extraordinary happened.

THE EAGLE ON MOUNT HOLYOKE.

[I am aware that the following sketch will fail to produce on the mind, the effect which the scene described niade on my own. If I have ever witnessed any thing truly sublime, it was the flight of an Eagle from Mount Holyoke and over the beautiful portion of the Connecticut valley where it is situated.

I had climbed the mountain to enjoy a view of the celebrated and magnificent scenery which it commands, but the graceful windings of the river, the garden-like cultivation of the valley on either side of it, the location of Hartford in the distance and the silver-spot of river shining beyond, the wild mountain-range, and the romantic village of Northampton lying at my feet, with its fairy-like scenery of "Round Hill"-its costly and tasteful embellishments of Architecture and Horticulture-were quite lost upon me;-my attention was riveted upon the noble bird that soared, as if by the power of magic and without an effort, high over the scene and quite to the clouds.

I watched him with that painful emotion which we feel in contemplating the infinite,-the fathomless sea-the unbounded sky-the endless eternity, and came down from the mountain about as much profited by my view of the landscape, as I sup

pose the noble bird himself was.]

Imperial bird! He had a noble wing
That bore him on so-never wearying
And never weak:

With many a blundering step, as best I might,
Gain'd I, with pain, at last, old Holyoke's height-
Rugged and bleak;

And there, with wing half-furl'd and waving slow-
As 'twere an idle thing to stoop so low-

Was he, serene,

And quite at rest-as to an Eagle's eye
Twere all too tame-so much beneath the sky-
That mountain scene.

I watch'd him, and anon his wing of might
Bore him slow onward, in majestic flight,
High o'er the vale,

Where the Connecticut, in crystal sheen,
Winds gracefully through many an Eden-scene;-
And he did sail

O'er town and tree at such a fearful height,
That my brain whirl'd to watch his wondrous flight,-
While there in pride,

Aloft, he scann'd all that I long'd to see-
And long'd in vain-of that brave scenery
Spread out so wide.

That flight was o'er-'twas but an earthly view-
He turn'd his bright eye to the Heav'n of blue
And spread his wing,

And, like a courier to the realms of light,
He soar'd above the clouds, in fearless flight,
Unwavering.

I thought—I said-it was a wondrous wing
That bore him on so-never wearying
And never weak;

Yet envied I not him his wing of might;

Though worn and weary on old Holyoke's height-
Rugged and bleak.

Could I, with him, on mystic pinion sail,
And trace the windings of that lovely vale

And noble stream,

Mine eye unsatisfied had wander'd still ;-
There are no scenes that restless orb to fill
On earth, I ween.

And well my Spirit's wing, faith-plumed, could soar
Where Eagle pinions flag and can no more!
And scenes so bright

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"HOMINES APUD INFERNOS." The chiefs who formed the court of the "Prince of the Power of the Air" were assembled in council; but there was no excitement in the business for which they were called together, and their debates were languid, not to say dull and tiresome-as is sometimes the case among human law-makers. demon of small talent and less consideration, was just entering upon the fifth hour of an excessively stupid speech, of the subject of which he had no very clear conception himself, and his hearers had none whatever; and the magnates of the councilchamber were politely manifesting their utter indifference to him and his opinions, some by chatting together in small parties of three or four, some by writing letters, others again by glancing over infernal newspapers, and not a few by yawning drearily, at the full stretch of their jaws, and in the most ostentatious manner imaginable.

Meanwhile, a few of the very highest in rank had withdrawn to the upper part of the councilroom where, behind the raised chair of the president, was a sort of withdrawing or lounging place, luxuriously provided with sofas, ottomans, easy chairs and other appliances of comfort-and from their animated looks and gestures, and the eager rapidity of their discourse, it was evident that they were in warm debate upon some question far surpassing in interest the topics under discussion in the more strictly legislative portion of the chamber. It was apparent also, that there was among them great diversity of opinion; for interruptions were frequent, all spoke with vehemence, and all listened impatiently-as men do when hearkening to arguments or doctrines the truth of which they cannot or will not acknowledge.

In the earnestness of their controversy they did not perceive the approach of their great sovereign, the arch-fiend himself, who, with his accustomed and peculiar stealthiness of movement, silently advanced from a door at the farthest extremity of the chamber-which, by the way, was in one of the wings of his infernal palace--and had for some moments been close upon them, listening attentively to their discourse, before either of them discovered his presence. A grim smile, half joyful and half contemptuous, flitted over his blasted features, as

he gathered the subject of their discussion; and in, who, taking his place on the platform erected in with a chuckle of hellish mirth he thus broke in the midst, proclaimed the nature and conditions of upon their conference. the trial.

"Ye say well, noble lords and illustrious coun- Then uprose one of Hell's great nobles—a dark cillors. But a thought strikes me that something fierce spirit, of lofty stature and harsh features, on better than mere words of debate may be elicited which was stamped but one expression; that of from the fruitful topic of your discourse. I have savage ferocity. His name was Moloch-"horrid listened with admiring delight to your conflicting king, besmeared with blood of human sacrifice." opinions, and to the powerful arguments by which With rapid strides he advanced from his throne of they have been supported. Suppose we bring them state to the central platform, which he ascended, to the test of experiment. The folly of mankind and waving his hand toward the brazier, there arose is a theme worthy indeed of copious illustration. immediately therefrom a dense cloud of smoke, I will not take upon me to say wherein and how it which, as it mounted upward, spread itself also to is most richly exhibited; but a plan has occurred either side until it hung like a vast curtain from the to me by which we may draw from it a fund of vaulted roof, and so remained. Again the cruel amusement, and perhaps some instruction. Listen Moloch waved his hand, and the cloudy wall became to my idea. instinct with life. Thousands of moving figures, "There is, as you know, a vacant red ribbon at as of men and horses, were displayed upon its huge the disposal of my prime minister. It shall be the area, in the rush and confusion and horror of a reward of him who, by the judgment of all his pitched battle. Here were masses advancing in peers, shall produce the most striking exemplifica- serried phalanx-there squadrons broken, overtion of human absurdity. I give you twenty-four hours for consideration. Let the trial be made at this hour to-morrow, in the great hall of audience; and in the meantime proclamation shall be made, that whosoever will may enter the list of competitors."

The royal proposal was received with a buzz of delight; and the disputants, bowing low to their chief, hastened from the presence to communicate the tidings of the proposed exhibition among their respective retainers, and to prepare themselves for the trial-each confident of success, and proudly anticipating the possession of the coveted prize with which success should be rewarded.

thrown and scattered by the headlong charge of opposing squadrons, or by the terrible discharges of artillery. Volumes of smoke were rolling upward, from the midst of which shot forth frequent flashes of sulphurous flame. The ground was strewed with gashed and bleeding bodies of the slain, or of the wounded writhing in agony; while the roar of the cannon and musketry, the demoniac shouts of the combatants, the rattle of drums, the sharp clangor of trumpets, and the groans of the dying, united in a chorus of horrors at which even Hell itself might tremble. In one quarter were seen horses, wild with rage and terror, flying over the field masterless, spurning with their iron hoofs the gory corpses, and trampling to agony and death the wounded; in another fresh battalions, marching firmly up to take the place and share the fate of those which had

At the appointed hour on the succeeding day, the great hall of audience was thronged with myriads upon myriads of infernal spirits. Lucifer himself was seated in lofty state upon a throne of terrific been swept away by the fatal tempest hurled unsplendor, and wearing upon his brows a diadem ceasingly from the brazen throats of the artillery; that glowed as with living fire, while from the gems here was seen a charge with bayonets, opposing with which it was encrusted shot beams of intole- squadrons rushing upon each other with desperate rable radiance. On either hand, in a semicircle, were ferocity, and whole ranks falling in the dreadful ranged the peers of his court, all seated likewise upon shock; there were displayed the terrors of a flight— thrones in triple rank, but lower than that of their bands of horsemen urging their steeds in swift purdread sovereign; and the vast body of the immense suit of a routed division, shooting, cutting, stabbing, hall, and the galleries around, illimitable as they slaying without pity, even the unarmed and unreseemed, were crowded with the multitudes of his sisting, as they cast away their weapons and flung populous dominion. Only in the centre of the hall themselves upon their knees, with outstretched was a space reserved, on which was erected a great hands, crying in vain for mercy. And afar off, on platform, supported by gorgeous pillars and hung a hill that commanded the whole battle-ground, with crimson drapery; and upon this was no other preparation visible than a single altar of white marble, in form like those whereon the heathen idolaters of old were wont to make their sacrifices, and supporting a small brazier in which scented wood was burning.

was seen the man at whose behest these dreadful scenes of carnage were enacted, coolly and attentively watching the progress of the fight, and from time to time transmitting orders for bringing up fresh thousands to the slaughter; displaying meanwhile as little emotion as though the actors and The silence that reigned throughout was sud- sufferers in the terrible reality before him, were but denly broken by the clear loud notes of a trumpet, senseless puppets, framed by his own hands, with sounding a royal flourish; and a herald then came capacity neither to feel nor to inflict-with no joys

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