All heaven and earth are still: from the high host
Of stars, to the lulled lake and mountain-coast,
All is concentered in a life intense,

Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost,
But hath a part of being, and a sense

Of that which is of all Creator and defense.

3. The sky is changed! and such a change! O night,
And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong,
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light
Of a dark eye in woman! Far along,

From peak to peak, the rattling *crags among,
Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud,
But every mountain now hath found a tongue,
And Jura answers, from her misty shroud,
Back to the joyous Alps, which call to her aloud!

4. And this is in the night.-Most glorious night!
Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be
A sharer in thy fierce and far delight;
A portion of the tempest and of thee!
How the lit lake shines,—a *phosphoric sea!
And the big rain comes dancing to the earth!
And now again, 'tis black; and now, the glee
Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth,
As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.

5. Now, where the swift Rhone *cleaves his way between Heights which appear as lovers who have parted

In hate, whose mining depths.so *intervene,

That they can meet no more, though broken-hearted; Though in their souls, which thus each other †thwarted, Love was the very root of the fond rage,

Which blighted their life's bloom, and then--departed! Itself expired, but leaving them an age

Of years, all winters, war within themselves to wage.

6. Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way, The mightiest of the storms has ta'en his stand!

For here, not one, but many make their play,

And fling their thunder-bolts from hand to hand,

Flashing and cast around! Of all the band,

The brightest through these parted hills hath forked
His lightnings-as if he did understand,

That in such gaps as desolation worked,

There, the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurked.

CLXXVI. THE MANIAC.

FROM LEWIS.

Ir is said, that a gentleman in England, in order to gain possession of his wife's property, confined her in a mad-house, under pretense of insanity, until she became really a maniac.

1. STAY, jailer, stay, and hear my woe!
She is not mad who kneels to thee;
For what I'm now, too well I know,
And what I was, and what should be.
I'll rave no more in proud despair;
My language shall be mild, though sad:
But yet I'll firmly, truly swear,

I am not mad; I am not mad.

2. My tyrant husband forged the tale,
Which chains me in this dismal cell;
My fate unknown my friends bewail;
O jailer, haste that fate to tell;
O! haste my father's heart to cheer:
His heart at once 't will grieve and glad
To know, though kept a captive here,
I am not mad; I am not mad.

3. He smiles in scorn, and turns the key;
He quits the grate; I knelt in vain;
His glimmering lamp, still, still I see;
'Tis gone, and all is gloom again:
Cold! bitter cold! no warmth, no light!
Life, all thy comforts once I had;
Yet here I'm chained, this freezing night,
Although not mad; no, no, not mad.

4. 'Tis sure some dream, some vision vain;

What! I, the child of rank and wealth?
Am I the wretch who clanks this chain,
Bereft of freedom, friends, and health?
Ah! while I dwell on blessings fled,

Which never more my heart must glad,
How aches my heart, how burns my head;
But 't is not mad; no, 'tis not mad.

5. Hast thou, my child, forgot, ere this,
A mother's face, a mother's tongue?
She'll ne'er forget your parting kiss,
Nor round her neck how fast you clung;

Nor how with me you sued to stay;

Nor how that suit your sire forbade;
Nor how I'll drive such thoughts away;
They'll make me mad; they'll make me mad.

6. His rosy lips, how sweet they smiled!

His mild, blue eyes, how bright they shone!
None ever bore a lovelier child:

And art thou now forever gone?
And must I never see thee more,
My pretty, pretty, pretty lad?
I will be free! unbar the door!

I am not mad; I am not mad.

7. Oh! hark! what mean those yells and cries?
His chain some furious madman breaks;
He comes! I see his glaring eyes;

Now, now my dungeon grate he shakes!
Help! help! He's gone! Oh! fearful woe,
Such screams to hear, such sights to see!
My brain, my brain,-I know, I know,
I am not mad, but soon shall be.

8. Yes, soon;-for, lo you!—while I speak,
Mark how yon Demon's eyeballs glare!
He sees me; now, with dreadful shriek,
He whirls a serpent high in air.
Horror! the reptile strikes his tooth
Deep in my heart, so crushed and sad;

Ay, laugh, ye fiends;-I feel the truth;

Your task is done!-I'm mad! I'm mad!

CLXXVII.-IMPORTANCE OF THE UNION.

FROM WEBSTER.

1. MR. PRESIDENT: I am conscious of having detained you and the senate much too long. I was drawn into the debate with no previous deliberation, such as is suited to the discussion of so grave and important a subject. But it is a subject of which my heart is full, and I have not been willing to suppress the utterance of its spontaneous sentiments. I can not, even now, persuade myself to relinquish it, without expressing once more, my deep conviction, that, since it

respects nothing less than the union of the states, it is of most vital and essential importance to the public happiness.

2. I profess, sir, in my career hitherto, to have kept steadily in view the prosperity and honor of the whole country, and the preservation of our federal union. It is to that union we owe our safety at home, and our consideration and dignity abroad. It is to that union, that we are chiefly indebted for whatever makes us most proud of our country. That union we reached only by the discipline of our virtues, in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin in the necessities of disordered +finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under its benign influences, these great interests immediately awoke as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh proof of its utility and its blessings; and, although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population spread further and further, they have not outrun its protection or its benefits. It has been to us all a copious fountain of national, social, and personal happiness.

3. I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the union, to see what might lie hidden in the dark trecess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the abyss below; nor could I regard him as a safe counselor in the affairs of the government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how the union might best be preserved, but how tolerable might be the condition of the people, when it shall be broken up and destroyed.

God

4. While the union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that, I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant, that in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise. grant, that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious union; on states +dissevered, *discordant, belligerent; our land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood.

5. Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the carth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original luster, not a stripe terased or polluted, not a single star obscured, bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, What is all this worth? nor those other words of delusion and folly, Liberty first, and Union afterward; but every-where, spread all over, in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea, and over the land, and on every wind, and under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart-Liberty AND Union, now and forever: one and inseparable!

CLXXVIII.-CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON.
FROM J. SPARKS.

1. THE person of Washington was commanding, graceful, and fitly proportioned; his stature six feet, his chest broad and full, his limbs long and somewhat slender, but well shaped and muscular. His features were regular and symmetrical, his eyes of a light blue color, and his whole countenance, in its quiet state, was grave, placid, and benignant. When alone, or not engaged in conversation, he appeared sedate and thoughtful; but when his attention was excited, his eye kindled quickly, and his face beamed with animation and intelligence.

2. He was not fluent in speech, but what he said was *apposite, and listened to with the more interest as being known to come from the heart. He seldom attempted *sallies of wit or humor, but no man received more pleasure from an exhibition of them by others; and, although contented in *seclusion, he sought his chief happiness in society, and participated with delight in all its rational and innocent amusements. Without austerity on the one hand, or an appearance of condescending familiarity on the other, he was affable courteous, and cheerful; but it has often been remarked, that there was a dignity in his person and manner not easy to be defined, which impressed every one that saw him for