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sleeping in the primeval silence of nature, in the recesses of a vast wilderness; and I felt that there is a grandeur and à majesty in this irresistible onward march of a race, created, as I believe, and elected, to possess and people a continent, which belong to few other objects, either of the moral or material world.
3. We may become so accustomed to such things that they shall make as little impression upon our minds as the glories of the heavens above us; but, looking on them, lately, as with the eye of the stranger, I felt, what a recent English traveler is said to have remarked, that, far from being without poetry, as some have vainly alleged, our whole country is one great poem.
4. Sir, it is so; and if there be a man who can think of what is doing, in all parts of this most blessed of all lands, to embellish and advance it, - who can contemplate. that living mass of intelligence, activity, and improvement, as it rolls on, in its sure and steady progress, to the uttermost extremities of the West, who can see scenes of savage desolation transformed, almost with the suddenness of enchantment, into those of fruitfulness and beauty, crowned with flourishing cities, filled with the noblest of all populations, if there be a man, I say, that can witness all this, passing under his very eyes, without feeling his heart beat bigh, and his imagination warmed and transported by it, be sure that the raptures of song exist not for him.
- Breathes there a man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
High though his titles, proud his name,
Hugo S. LEGA-RE. (1797 — 1843.)
LXTII. - THE NOBLEST PUBLIC VIRTUE.
Cov'et (kèv'et), v. t., to desire wrong-1 SAC'RI-FICE (-fiz), n., an offering. fully or strongly.
E'GO-TISM, n., the magnifying of one's AB-SORBED', pp., swallowed up.
self. AG-GRAND'IZE-MENT, n., state of being GRÖV'EL (grov'vl), v. i., to cringe.
ag'grandized or made great. IM-PU-TA’TION, n., reproach. VOL'UN-TA-RY, a., acting by choice.
immense. Do not slur the final consonant combinations in inter-ests, prompts, acts, feelings, e'go-tism, pa'tri-ot-ism (not -isum), a-cross' (not acrost), &c.
1. THERE is a sort of courage, to which — I frankly confess it - I do not lay claim; a boldness to which I dare not aspire; a valor which I can not covet. I can not lay myself down in the way of the welfare and happiness of my country. That, I can not, I have not the courage, to do.' I can not interpose the power with which I may be invested, - a power conferred, not for my personal benefit or aggrandizement, but for my country's good, — to check her onward march to greatness and glory. I have not courage enough, - I am too cowardly for that!
2. I would not, I dare not, lie down, and place my body across the path that leads my country to prosperity and happiness. This is a sort of courage widely different from that which a man may display in his private conduct and personal relations. Personal or private courage is totally distinct from that higher and nobler courage which prompts the pātriot to offer himself a voluntary sacrifice to his country's good.
* From “The Lay of the Last Minstrel,” by Sir Walter Scott.
3. Apprehensions of the imputation of the want of firmness sometimes impel us to perform rash and inconsiderate acts. It is the greatest courage to be able to bear the imputation of the want of courage. But pride, vanity, egotism, so unamiable and offensive in private life, are vices which partake of the character of crimes in the conduct of public affairs. The unfortu. nate victim of these passions can not see beyond the little, petty, contemptible circle of his own personal interest. All his thoughts are withdrawn from his country, and concen'trated on his consistency, his firm
4. The high, the exalted, the sublime emotions of a pa'triotism which, soaring toward heaven, rises far above all mean, low, or selfish things, and is absorbed by one soul-transporting thought of the good and glory of one's country, are never felt in his impenetrable bosom. That patriotism which, cătching its inspiration from on high, and, leaving at an immeasurable distance below all lesser, groveling, personal interests and feelings,-animates and prompts to deeds of self-sacrifice, of valor, of devotion, and of death itself, — that is public virtue; that is the noblest, the sublimest of all public virtues !
(1777 — 1852.)
“Live while you live," the epicure would say,
STRUCTURE, n., internal organization; | PER-Nņcious, a., hurtful. a building.
SAN'I-TA-RY, A., relating to health. FUNCTION, n., employment; hence, RES-PI'RA-TO-RY, a., having power to
the acting of any bodily organ. respire or breathe. TRAV'ERSE, v. t., to cross.
DOR'MI-TO-RY, n., a place to sleep in. A-DULT', n., a grown-up person. NEU'TRAL-IZE, v. t., to render neutral IN-FRINGE', v. t., to break.
or inert. INSPI-RA’TION, n., an in-breathing. VEN'TI-LATE, v., to expose to air. CAR-BON'ic, a., pertaining to carbon. Ox'Y-GEN (-jen), n., the vital part of HOGS'HEAD, n., a measure of sixty- atmospheric air. three gallons.
VI-TAL'I-TY, n., principle of life. Give er in trav'erse, ex'er-cise, &c., its full sound, without stress. In at'mos-phere ph has the sound of f; ere, in there'fore, like er in her.
1. It is estimated that during one day's healthful existence no less than sixty hogsheads of pure atmosphere must enter the human lungs. This is allowing but one pint for each inspiration, and but eighteen inspirations for each minute; though it must be clear to all that dūring active exercise it frequently happens that in one minute of time more than twice eighteen inspirations take place, and considerably more than a pint of air enters the lungs at a single inspiration. The fact may be easily tested.
2. Now, this immense volume of air is on purpose to give life to the liquid essence of our food-life to the dead blood. Until acted upon by the atmosphere, the fluid which is traversing the lungs is, to all intents and purposes, dead, and consequently totally incapable of repairing worn structures, of carrying on functions, or of maintaining any vitality in the system; nay, it even contains in its elements a considerable quantity of pernicious poison, brought to the lungs to be given out in the act of breathing, lest it should kill the human făbric. The poison alluded to is carbon'ic acid. To breathe in an atmosphere of carbonic acid is death, As rapid as it is certain.
8. Let us imagine, then, forty individuals to have entered a room of sufficient size to receive them with, out overcrowding. We may as well consider it an ordinary school-room, and the forty individuals forty industrious pupils. This will give us an opportunity of noticing, among other things, how impure air affects the thinking brain. Suppose them diligently at work, then, in an unventilated apartment, with the door and windows closed. Now, calculating from the same estimates as before, in one minute from the time of entry each of the forty pairs of lungs has performed eighteen respirations, and with every respiration a pint of air has been deprived of a fourth part of its oxygen, and the same volume of carbonic acid has been mingled with the atmosphere of the school-room.
4. In one minute of time, therefore, forty times eighteen pints, that is, seven hundred and twenty pints, -- as we are not speaking of adults, we will say six hundred pints of the inclosed air, - have been deprived of no less than a fourth of their creative oxygen; while an equal volume of the destroying acid is floating in the apartment, and influencing the blood at every inspiration. Or,— which will be found, upon calculation, to amount to the same thing, - in one single minute, as much as one hundred and fifty pints – upward of eighteen gallons of air -- have altogether lost their life-creating power; the deficiency being made up by a deadly poison.
5. Now, since such a change takes place in one minute, let me beg of you to reflect what takes place in ten, what in twenty, what in half an hour; what must be the amount of poison which the lungs of these unfortunate victims are inhaling, after an hour of such confinement. And yet how common it is, not for school children alone, but for persons of all ages and conditions, to be shut up in low-pitched, badly-venti