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his country: “God pity this poor people !” were his dying words.

5. The suprěmacy of his political genius was entirely beyond question. He was the first statesman of the age. The quickness of his perception was only equaled by the caution which enabled him to mature the results of his observation. His knowledge of human nature was profound. He governed the passions and sentiments of a great nation as if they had been but the keys and chords of one vast instrument; and his hand rarely failed to evoke harmony, even out of the wildest storms.

6. He possessed a ready eloquence = sometimes impassioned, oftener argumentative, always rătional. His influence over his audience was unexampled in the annals of that country or age; yet he never condescended to flatter the people. He never followed the nation, but always led her in the path of duty and of honor, and was much more prone to rebuke the vices than to pander to the passions of his hearers. He never failed to administer ample chas'tisement, wherever it was due, to par simony, to jealousy, to insubordination, to intolerance, to infidelity; nor feared to confront the states or the people, in their most angry hours, and to tell them the truth to their faces.

7. He had the rare quality of caution, a characteristic by which he was distinguished from his youth. At fifteen he was the confidential counselor, as at twenty-one he became the general-in-chief, to the most politic as well as the most warlike potentate of his age; and if he at times indulged in wiles which modern statesmanship, even while it practices, condemns, he ever held in his hand the clue of an honorable purpose to guide him through the tortuous labyrinth.

8. His enemies said that he was governed only by ambition — by a desire of personal advancement. They never attempted to deny his talents, his industry, his vast sacrifices of wealth and station; but they ridiculed the idea that he could have been inspired by any but unworthy motives. God alone knows the heart of man. He alone can unweave the tangled skein of human motives, and detect the hidden springs of human action; but as far as can be judged by a careful observation of undisputed facts, and by a diligent collation of public and private documents, it would seem that no man not even Washington has ever been inspired by a purer pa'triotism.

9. Whether originally of a timid temperament or not, he was certainly possessed of perfect courage at last. In siege and battle — in the deadly air of pestilential cities in the long exhaustion of mind and body which comes from unduly protracted labor and anxiety — amid the countless conspiracies of assassins - he was daily exposed to death in every shape. Within two years, five different attempts against his life had been discovered. Rank and fortune were offered to any mal'efactor who would compass the murder. He had already been shot through the head, and almost mortally wounded.

10. Under such circumstances even a brave men might have seen a pitfall at every step, a dagger in every hand, and poison in every cup.

On the con trary, he was ever cheerful, and hardly took more precaution than usual. “God, in his mercy," said he, with unaffected simplicity, “will maintain my inno cence and my honor during my life and in future ages. As to my fortune and my life, I have dedicated both, long since, to His service. He will do therewith what pleases Him for His glory and my salvation."

11. William the Silent went through life bearing the load of a people's sorrows upon his shoulders with a smiling face. Their name was the last word upon

his

lips, save the simple affirmative, with which the soldier, who had been battling for the right all his lifetime, commended his soul in dying “to his great Captain, Christ.” The people were grateful and affectionate, for they trusted the character of their “Father Wil liam," and not all the clouds which calumny could col. lect ever dimmed to their eyes the radiance of that lofty mind, to which they were accustomed, in their darkest calamities, to look for light. As long as he lived he was the guiding-star of a whole brave nation, and when he died the little children cried in the streets.

JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY.

12. William of Orange, the founder of the Dutch Republic, whose eulogy his American historian has here given, fell before the pistol of an assassin, July 10th, 1584, in the fifty-second year of his age. Three poisoned balls had been fired into his body. He received his title of Orange from the principality of that name in France, which had been held by his ancestors. He was called “the Silent” because of his prudence and taciturnity on occasions when an incautious word or look might have betrayed great interests.

C. – THE DEATH OF MARMION.

DOFFED, pp., put off ; taken off. Hous'ING (houz-), n., a saddle-cloth CASQUE (cask), n., a helmet.

SIGʻNET, n., a private seal. SLO'GAN, N., the war-cry of a Scottish VAR'LET, n., a scoundrel ; a footman. clan.

A-MAIN', ad., with all force ; without PEN'NON, n., i small flag.

stop ; at once. FALCON (faw'kn), n., a hawk. UN-NURT'URED, a., ill-bred.

Pronounce Dacre, Da'ker ; wound, woond. 'Gan is a contraction of be-gan'.

WIDE raged the battle on the plain ;
Spears shook, and falchions flashed amain;
Fell England's arrow-flight like rain ;

And crests of Scottish chieftains brave
Floated like foam upon the wave;
Yet still amid the tumult high
England saw Marmion's pennon fly.

The border slogan rent the sky :

" A Homé ! a Gordon!” was the cry;

Loud were the clanging blows !
Advanced,- forced back,- now low, now high,

The pennon sank and rose;
As bends the bark's mast in the gale,
When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail,

It wavered ’mid the foes.

Swift to the fray Blount rode amain,
Followed by all the archer train.
The fiery youth, with desperate charge,
Made, for a space, an opening large ;-

The rescued banner rose ;
But darkly closed the war around, -
Like pine-tree rooted from the ground,

It sank among the foes !

Then, fast as shaft can fly,
Bloodshot his eyes, his nostrils spread,
The loose rein dangling from his head,
Housing and saddle bloody red,

Lord Marmion's steed rushed by.

And soon, straight up the hill there rode

Two horsemen drenched with gore, And in their arms, a helpless load,

A wounded knight they bore. His hand still strained the broken brand, His arms were smeared with blood and sand. Dragged from among the horses' feet, With dinted shield, and helmet beat, The falcon crest and plumage gone,Can that be haughty Marmion ?

Young Blount his armor did unlace,
And, gazing on his ghastly face,

Said, “By Saint George, he's gone!
That spear-wound has our master sped;
And see the deep cut on his head !

Good-night to Marmion!” — "Unnurtured Blount! thy brawling cease : He opes his eyes," said Eustace; “peace!

When, doffed his casque, he felt free air,
Around 'gan Marmion wildly stare :
“Where's Harry Blount? Fitz Eustace where ?
Linger ye here, ye hearts of hare!
Redeem my pennon! Charge again!
Cry, ‘Marmion to the rescue!'—Vain!
Last of my race, on battle-plain
That shout shall ne'er be heard again!

Yet my last thought is England's; fly!
To Dacre bear my signet ring;
Tell him his squadrons up to bring.
Let Stanley charge with spur of fire,
With Chester charge, and Lancashire,
Full
upon

Scotland's central host,-
Or victory and England's lost !
Must I bid twice? . Hence, varlets ! fly!
Leave Marmion here alone - to die!"

The war, that for a space did fail,
Now, trebly thundering, swelled the gale,

And — STANLEY! was the cry ;-
A light on Marmion's visage spread,

And fired his glazing eye;
With dying hand, above his head
He shook the fragment of his blade,

And shouted “ Victory!”— “Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!Were the last words of Marmion.

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

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