Up, up with that banner!—where'er it may call, And a nation of freemen that moment shall fall, ARNOLD WINKELRIED. The noble voluntary death of the Switzer, Winkelried, is accurately described in the following verses. In the battle of Shempach, in the ourteenth century, this martyrpatriot, perceiving that there was no other means of breaking the heavy-armed lines of the Austrians than by gathering as many of their spears as he could grasp together, opened, by this means, a passage for his fellow-combatants, who, with hammers and hatchets, hewed down the mailed men-at-arms, and won the victory. "M Made way for liberty, and died! AKE way for liberty!" he cried In arms the Austrian phalanx stood, Peasants, whose new-found strength had broke Marshalled once more at Freedom's call, They came to conquer or to fall. And now the work of life and death Hung on the passing of a breath; Yet, while the Austrians held their ground, It must not be; this day, this hour, And felt as 't were a secret known It did depend on one, indeed; Unmarked, he stood amid the throng, Till you might see, with sudden grace, Tell where the bolt would strike, and how. But 't was no sooner thought than done- Their keen points crossed from side to side; Swift to the breach his comrades fly- -- And through the Austrian phalanx dart, While, instantaneous as his fall, Thus Switzerland again was free- I NOBILITY OF LABOR. CALL upon those whom I address to stand up for the nobility of labor. It is Heaven's great ordinance for human improvement. Let not that great ordinance be broken down. What do I say? It is broken down; and it has been broken down, for ages. Let it, then, be built up again; here, if anywhere, on these shores of a new world of a new civilization. But how, I may be asked, is it broken down? Do not men toil? it may be said. They do, indeed, toil; but they too generally do it because they must. Many submit to it as, in some sort, a degrading necessity; and they desire nothing so much on earth as to escape from it. They fulfil the great law of labor in the letter, but break it in the spirit; fulfil it with the muscle, but break it with the mind. To some field of labor, mental or manual, every idler should fasten, as a chosen and coveted theatre of improvement. But so is he not impelled to do, under the teachings of our imperfect civilization. On the contrary, he sits down, folds his hands, and blesses himself in his idleness. This way of thinking is the heritage of the absurd and unjust feudal system, under which serfs labored, and gentlemen spent their lives in fighting and feasting. It is time that this opprobrium of toil were done away. Ashamed to toil, art thou? Ashamed of thy dingy workshop and dusty laborfield; of thy hard hand, scarred with service more honorable than that of war; of thy soiled and weather-stained garments, on which mother nature has embroidered, midst sun and rain, midst fire and steam, her own heraldic honors? Ashamed of these tokens and titles, and envious of the flaunting robes of imbecile idleness and vanity? It is treason to Nature - it is impiety to Heaven - it is breaking Heaven's great ordinance. Toil, I repeat toil, either of the brain, of the heart, or of the hand, is the only true manhood, the only true nobility! AUSE not to dream of the future before us; Ausse not to weep the wild cares that come o'er us; Hark, how Creation's deep, musical chorus, Unintermitting, goes up into heaven! More and more richly the rose-heart keeps glowing, "Labor is worship!"-the robin is singing; Listen! that eloquent whisper upspringing Speaks to thy soul from out Nature's great heart. From the dark cloud flows the life-giving shower; From the rough sod blows the soft-breathing flower; From the small insect, the rich coral bower; Only man, in the plan, shrinks from his part. Labor is life! 'Tis the still water faileth; Keep the watch wound, for the dark rust assaileth; Idle hearts only the dark future frightens; Play the sweet keys, wouldst thou keep them in tune! Labor is rest from the sorrows that greet us, Droop not, though shame, sin, and anguish are round thee? Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee! Look to yon pure heaven smiling beyond thee; a clod. Rest not content in thy darkness Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God! A THE ORDER OF NATURE. LL are but parts of one stupendous whole, As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart; Cease, then, nor Order, Imperfection name All chance, direction, which thou canst not see; All partial evil, universal good: And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, |