that conferred a great reward for past services, which, 1 am proud to say, was not greater than my desert. I have returned to protect that Constitution of which I was the parent and founder, from the assassination of such men as the right honorable gentleman and his unworthy associates. They are corrupt, they are seditious, and they, at this very moment, are in a conspiracy against their country. I have returned to refute a libel, as false as it is malicious, given to the public under the appellation of a report of the committee of the Lords. Here I stand, ready for impeachment or trial. I dare accusation. I defy the honorable gentleman; I defy the government; I defy their whole phalanx; let them come forth. I tell the ministers, I will neither give quarter nor take it. I am here to lay the shattered remains of my constitution on the floor of this House, in defence of the liberties of my country.-H. GRATTAN. THE PAINTER OF SEVILLE. Sebastian Gomez, better known by the name of the Mulatto of Murillo, was one of the most celebrated painters of Spain. There may yet be seen in the churches of Seville the celebrated picture which he was found painting, by his master, a St. Anne, and a holy Joseph, which are extremely beautiful, and others of the highest merit. The incident related occurred about the year 1630. WAS morning in Seville; and brightly beamed The early sunlight in one chamber there; Showing where'er its glowing radiance gleamed, Rich, varied beauty. 'Twas the study where Murillo, the famed painter, came to share With young aspirants his long-cherished art, prove how vain must be the teacher's care Who strives his unbought knowledge to impart, The language of the soul, the feeling of the heart. Το The pupils came, and glancing round, Tints and expression warm from heaven. 'T was but a sketch-the Virgin's head— A poet's brightest dream was there! Murillo entered, and amazed, On the mysterious painting gazed; "Whose work is this?-speak, tell me!-he Who to his aid such power can call," Exclaimed the teacher eagerly, "Will yet be master of us all; Would I had done it!-Ferdinand! Isturitz, Mendez !-say, whose hand Among ye all?"-With half-breathed sigh, Each pupil answered-""T was not I!" "How came it then?" impatiently Murillo cried; "but we shall see. Ere long into this mystery. Sebastian!" At the summons came A bright-eyed slave, Who trembled at the stern rebuke His master gave. For, ordered in that room to sleep, And clasped his hands imploringly, "List!" said his master. "I would know Who enters here-there have been found The lash shall force you-do you hear? * * * * * 'Twas midnight in Seville; and faintly shone From one small lamp, a dim uncertain ray Within Murillo's study-all were gone Who there, in pleasant tasks or converse gay, Passed cheerfully the morning hours away. 'T was shadowy gloom, and breathless silence, save, That to sad thoughts and torturing fear a prey, One bright-eyed boy was there-Murillo's little slave. Almost a child-that boy had seen Profusely curled; his cheek's dark hue "Alas! what fate is mine!" he said. He slept until the dawning day Shed on his humble couch its ray. "I'll sleep no more!" he cried; "and now, Three hours of freedom I may gain Before my master comes; for then I shall be but a slave again. He seized a brush-the morning light He cried, "Shall I efface it?—No! The terror of the humble slave Gave place to the o'erpowering flow Of punishment still hanging o'er him; At length 't was finished, rapturously Were there, e'en at his side! The terror-stricken slave was mute- E'en could he ask it-so he deemed, And the poor boy half lifeless seemed. Speechless, bewildered-for a space "You, Señor," said the trembling slave. |