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OʻCal. Och, jewel, sure it is not the best beds that make the best slapers; for there's Kathleen and myself can slape like two big tops, and our bed is none of the softest, because why, we slape on the ground, and have no bed at all at all. Str. It is a pity, my honest fellow, that
should ever want one. There, (giving him a guinea,) good-bye, Mr. O'Callaghan. O’Cal. I'll drink your honor's health, that I will, and
may God and the blessed Virgin help you and yours, as long as grass grows and water runs.
THE MODERN BELLE.
1. She sits in a fashionable parlor,
And rocks in her easy chair;
And jewels are in her hair;
And simpers, and giggles, and winks,
Tis a good deal more than she thinks. .
2. She lies a-bed in the morning
Till nearly the hour of noon,
Because she was called so soon!
Her cheeks still fresh with paint;
Before she intended to faint.
8. She doats upon men unshaven,
And men with “flowing hair;"
They give such a foreign air!
And falls in love with the moon,
She would sink away in a swoon.
1. HERE, soldiers, you must either conquer or die, the very
first hour you meet the enemy. Two seas enclose you on the right and left; not a ship to fly to for escaping. Before you is the Po, a river broader and more rapid than the Rhone; behind you are the Alps, over which, even when your numbers were undiminished, you were hardly able to force a passage. But the same fortune which has thus laid you under the necessity of fighting', has set before your eyes the rewards of victory!
2. You have hitherto met with no reward worthy of the labors and dangers you have undergone. The time is now come to reap the full recompense of your toilsome marches over so many mountains and rivers, and through so many nations, all of them in arms. This is the place which Fortune has appointed to be the limits of your labor'; it is here that you glorious warfare', and receive an ample recompense
your completed service
For I would not have you imagine that victory will be as difficult as the name of a Roman war is great and sounding
3. It has often happened, that a despised enemy has given a
will finish your
bloody battle; and the most renowned kings and nations have by a small force been overthrown. And, if you
but take away
the glitter of the Roman name, what is there wherein they may stand in competition with you? For (to say nothing of your service in war, for twenty years together, with so much valor and success) from the very pillars of Hercules, from the ocean, from the utmost bounds of the earth, through so many warlike nations of Spain and Gaul, have you come hither victorious ?
4. And with whom are you now to fight? With raw soldiers, an undisciplined army, beaten, vanquished, besieged by the Gauls the very last summer; an army unknown to their leader, and a leader unknown to his army. I esteem it no small advantage, soldiers, that there is not one among you, who has not often, been an eye-witness of my exploits in war; not one, of whose valor I myself have not been a spectator, so as to be able to name the times and places of his noble achievements; that with soldiers, whom I have a thousand times praised and rewarded, and whose pupil I was before their general, I shall march against an army of men strangers to one another.
5. On what side soever I turn my eyes', I behold all full of courage and strength! A veteran infantry'; a most gallant cavalry'; you', my allies', most faithful and valiant'; you', Carthaginians', whom not only your country's cause', but the justest anger', impels to battle'. The hope, the courage, of assailants is always greater than of those who act upon the defensive. With hostile banners displayed, you are come down upon Italy; you bring the war. Grief, injuries', indignities', fire your minds', and spur you forward to revenge'First', they demanded me'; that I', your general', should be delivered up to them'; next, all of you who had fought at the siege of Saguntum'; and we were to be put to death by the extremest tortures.
6. Proud and cruel nation'! Every thing must be yours', and at your disposal'! You are to prescribe to us with whom we shall make war; with whom we shall make peace.
You are to set bounds; to shut us up within hills and rivers; but you, you are not to observe the limits which yourselves have fixed ! “Pass not the Iberus." What next? “Touch not the Saguntines; Saguntum is upon the Iberus: move not a step towards that city.”. Is it a small matter, then, that you have deprived us of our ancient possession, Sicily and Sardinia ?
7. You would have Spain too! Well, we shall yield Spain, and then you will pass into Africa. Will pass, did I say? This very year they ordered one of their consuls into Africa, the other into Spain. No, soldiers; there is nothing left for us, but what we can vindicate with our swords. (p*f) Come on, then. Be
The Romans may, with more safety, be cowards; they have their own country behind them; have places of refuge to fly to, and are secure from danger in the roads thither; but for you there is no middle fortune between death and victory! Let this be but well fixed in your minds; and once again, I say, you are the conquerors.
THE BATTLE HYMN.
BY THEODORE KORNER.
THEODORE KORNER, a celebrated German poet and soldier, was born at Dresden, in 1791. He was killed in a battle against the French, which took place near Rosenberg, August 26, 1813. 1. FATHER of earth and heaven! I call thy name!
Round me the smoke and shout of battle roll;
Father, sustain an untried soldier's soul.
Or life, or death, whatever be the goal
Thou knowest, if ever from my spirit stole
On my young fame! O hear! God of eternal power!
The cloud that pours the thunder from its womb,
The lightnings, glancing through the midnight gloom,
To faith's raised eye as calm, as lovely, come,
As roses shaken by the breeze's plume,
And on the golden wave the sunset burns afar.
Lie gazing to thee, chance, and life, and death;
Nor in the million worlds that blaze beneath,
Hear my last prayer! I ask no mortal wreath;
4. (P4A) Now for the fight', now for the cannon peal',
(p5f5) Forward'! through blood', and toil', and cloud', and
The volley's roll', the rocket's blasting spire!!
Think of the orphaned child', the murdered sire'!
This hour to Europe's fate shall set the triumph seal!
LABOR AND GENIUS.
BY REV. SYDNEY SMITH.
Rev. SYDNEY SMITH was born at Woodford, near London in 1769. He was an accomplished scholar, and one of the wittiest and ablest men of
He was one of the projectors of the “Edinburgh Review," and continued for many years one of its most active contributors. He died in 1845.
1. The prevailing idea with young people has been the incompatibility of labor and genius; and, therefore, from the fear of being dull, thought it necessary to remain ignorant. I have seen, at school and at college, a great many young men completely destroyed by having been so unfortunate as to produce an excellent copy of verses. Their genius being now established, all that remained for them to do was to act up to the dignity of the character; and as this dignity consisted in reading nothing new, in forgetting what they had already read, and in pretending to be acquainted with all subjects by a sort of off-hand exertion of talents, they soon collapsed into the most frivolous and insig. nificant of men.
2. It would be an extremely profitable thing, to draw up a short and well-authenticated account of the habits of study of the most celebrated writers with whose style of literary industry we happen to be most acquainted. It would go very far to destroy the absurd and pernicious association of genius and idleness, by showing that the greatest poets, orators, statesmen, and historians,-men of the most brilliant and imposing talents, have actually labored as hard as the makers of dictionaries and the arrangers of indexes; and that the most obvious reason why