bosom of our great champion of liberty, when the lightning came quiv. ering from the distant cloud; or in other words, when he bound the lightning with a hempen cord, and brought it harmless from the skies-a poor printer, eating his roll through the streets of Philadelphia became the 'playmate of lightning?'

Here is the student which was borne down by poverty; compelled to leave his home and toil for a living upon this cold and unfeeling world, now fired with ambition in the flight after literary fame, which is truly lovely. The seed of ambition was sown within him in his boyhood, and circumstances called upon him to nourish it, and it "grew with his growth and strengthened with his strength." He did not give up in despair when the want of earthly treasures pressed upon him; but it called upon him to light the midnight taper and endeavor to ascend the mount of distinction. Ambition, and the spirits of the numerous trains of statesmen, orators, heroes, and poets which have risen to usefulness and glory, lead him forth undaunted into the path of education, which at first was beset with briers and brambles, but as he advanced they disappeared, and unfading flowers sprung up in their stead, with which he adorned his mind, because, says he, "they will continue to live and bloom while the marbles of Palmyra and the Acropolis, the mystic symbols of Isis and Osiris, which now excite the admiration and wonder of the antiquary and the traveller, shall have crumbled or faded away."

Now let us go back to the time when he first launched his frail bark upon the tempestuous sea of life, encircled with poverty. Follow him to his retirement, and there mark his furrowed brow; the cloud of anxiety which perpetually enveloped him in regard to obtaining a livelihood, and compare them with his present circumstances, present trials, and the happiness which flow from them. In instituting this comparison, it will be seen what man can do, and what fountains of unfading bliss there are from which he can quaff. In youth he enjoyed happiness, which was but a little superior to that which the beasts enjoy. In another stage, he approached more in the likeness of angels, being made one, he grasps at the fleeting things of this world, which are perishable; in the other, things that are immortal, imperishable, and that breathe undying fragrance.

Now where "others can see naught but monotonous plains, dismal forests, and hideous mountains, he is enraptured with the grandeur and sublimity of the scenes before him." Objects that once appeared void of interest, are now clothed with eloquence. Ah; let the hero express himself: "every new truth that opens itself to view, brings with it joy that can be better imagined than described. Once I grovelled among the low fleeting things of this world; now I can scan the broad heavens and the mysterious earth, and search skilfully among the relics of ancient lore, and drink of the preian spring. I now can see eloquence and wisdom gush from all animated nature, like waters from the smitten rock; although my locks are blossomed for the grave, and I am leaning feebly upon my staff, being poor in purse; yet I can exclaim in the language of Solomon:'There is gold and a multitude of rubies: but the lips of knowledge are a precious jewel.' I can look back over the chequered paths through which I have travelled, and behold a rainbow beaming with its soft and beautiful colors, along those rugged mountains which I struggled over.Although poverty called me to toil amidst the turmoils of this world, with

its pressing hand, yet I can look back upon them with pleasure; for along those thorny paths I plucked flowers that will never fade, but breathe undying fragrance. I can now look forward to the setting sun as I sink into the grave, and behold those blackened clouds that once darkened the cheerful sky, and threatened me with a storm of sorrow, changed to the brightest hue."

These are the sentiments of a man, who battled on through life's rugged paths, and built monuments which possesses greenness and beauty, that never will be shattered by the storm of poverty, or withered in the glittering sun,-riches which so many are blinded by: but from them will continue to flow the immortal rivers of delight. He plucked fresh and fadeless flowers upon the greenest hills. He stood as an ornament and pillar to his country. The halo surrounded his brow, when he stood upon the verge of the grave. Although dead, yet he speaks to us through the living organs-books, in language too plain to be misunderstood:"There are higher sources of enjoyment. I have come up through poverty, and have won laurels, by persevering in a course of self-culture that will never cease to bloom. Now young men, who are in a similar situation to that I was in, go and do likewise."

Charleston, S. C.

T B.

DREAMS OF THE DEAD.

BY BRO. J. B. ROGERSON, OF ENG.

It is the midnight's still and solemn hour,
And eyes and flowers are folded up in rest,
And glides the moon from out her sapphire bower,
With veil of clouds and star-embroider'd vest;
And now there comes a voice to memory dear-
I WEEP to hear it, and yet LOVE to hear.

It soundeth not as it was wont to sound,

It greets me not with glad and laughing tone :-
Ah! how is this?—I call and search around,

Save mine own echo all is still and lone;
Nor voice nor form-perchance my senses dream-
I hear what is not, yet I waking seem.

It was His voice, the voice of my DEAD FRIEND-
DEAD!-speak the tenants of the silent grave?

Have not earth's attributes a final end,

When sinketh life in death's o'erwhelming wave?
The spirit's destiny is hid in gloom,

All mortal things must perish in the tomb.

'Twas but remembrance of what once hath been, And liveth still within the sorrowing heart: Oh, mystic Memory! for ever green

We view the past by thy all-potent art;

Thou can'st restore the forms whose loss we mourn, Thou rend'st the grave, and bursts the funeral urn.

And not alone unto my waking eyes

Is imag'd forth that lov'd, familiar form; In the night's visions doth the past arise,

And thoughts of him who dwelleth with the worm:

I see him then-I hear, but not as now-

His voice is glad, and health is on his trow.

I hear him then as I was wont to hear,

I see him then as he was wont to be,
And comes his accents on my gladden'd ear,

As when of old we roam'd in converse free;
And each to each sought only to impart,
Without disguise, the secrets of his heart.

My buried friend! thou unto me wert bound,
Not by the ties which sordid beings bind,
But I in thee a kindred nature found,

Thou wert to me a brother of the mind;
Thou could'st not brook the worldling's narrow skill,
And wert the martyr of thine own proud will.

As one who sleeps and walks near rushing streams,
Surrounding dangers passeth heedless by :
So did'st thou live, wrapt in aspiring dreams,
Viewing the world with a regardless eye;
With sickening soul mingling with soulless men,
Thou liv'd'st and died'st a god-form'd denizen.

Thou wert the child of high and lofty thought,
Borne by the tide of thine own heart along ;
With chainless mind thine uncheck'd spirit sought,
On soaring wing, the towering mount of song ;
Thou died'st or ere its proudest height was won-
A tameless eagle stricken near the sun.

ORATION.

BY PATRIARCH EDWARD J. ARTHUR.*

THE task of introducing the principles of Odd-Fellowship into this community, at a time when the subject was invested with the charms of novelty and curiosity, has already been most ably performed, and with the most eminent success. To me has been assigned the more difficult duty of attempting still further to develope the principles of our noble Order and of endeavouring to establish in its behalf a more permanent and stable interest.

In the discharge of this duty the most confident might feel hesitation and embarrassment, and with such feeling do I approach the subject.

Relying, however, on your kind forbearance and earnestly soliciting your generous acceptance of this imperfect effort, I will proceed to speak of Odd-Fellowship, not as it has been already spoken of, in the language of hope and promise, but of its practical and beneficial operation upon society and its own members, as it has thus far been imperfectly developed.

It may be expected that I should on this occasion make particular allusion to that peculiar Order whose anniversary we are this day celebrating, but as in its objects and purposes, it does not differ essentially from other branches of Odd-Fellowship, I apprehend it will suffice for me to state, that it is merely a higher Order of the same institution, by which the ties that unite us are drawn closer, and the duties and obligations of which, are higher and more binding.

Experience has taught us, that of all the branches of education which have occupied the attention of mankind, none is so difficult of attainment as that which is generally so much neglected, the education of the heart; and amid the innumerable schemes which have been devised for the amelioration of the social and moral condition of man how few have been able to withstand those severe tests of all human institutions, time and experience.

Independently of the intrinsic difficulties of the subject itself, much of their ill success is attributable to the erroneous thrones upon which they have proceeded. Based upon false principles of philosophy, or vainly attempting to reduce all mankind to the visionary standard of perfectability, all their efforts have proved fruitless of practical good, and their ephemeral existence has lasted only long enough, to demonstrate the utter fallacy and absurdity of the scheme, attempting too much and by inadequate means they have effected nothing, and instead of regenerating mankind, have brought upon their own head, merited ridicule and contempt.

But far different has been the career of Odd-Fellowship. Introducing itself in the modest guise of an association for the purposes of mutual assistance among its members-originating with and for a long time confined

Delivered at Columbia, South Carolina, on the 8th December, 1843. Published by special request of Eutaw Encampment.

to the working classes-it was at first regarded merely in the character of a mutual insurance association, which by means of a trifling periodical contribution, was enabled to protect its members from the usual pecuniary vicissitudes and casualities of life.

Suddenly however, and as if by magic, it has grown to its present enormous magnitude and influence. From England where it is said to have originated in its present form it has spread throughout the vast continent of Europe; crossing the Atlantic, it has disseminated itself throughout the immense extent of our own country, extending to every ramification of society, and embracing all professions and callings, and every variety of political or religious interests or opinions. In our Legislative Halls, in our sacred Temples of Justice, among our artizans and our rulers, in the lowly walls of the workshop, and in the lordly mansions of wealth and affluence at the sacred desk of the man of God, and at the counter of the man of business, are to be found the members of our Order. From the populous cities of the East, to the utmost verge of civilization in the vast, and almost untrodden wilds of the West; from the snow-clad hills of the North to the smiling and voluptuous plains of the South, Odd-Fellowship has extended and is still rapidly and steadily extending, its already almost boundless and universal influence.

To whatever cause this unparalleled success is to be attributed, whether to the beautiful simplicity of the morality it teaches, or the fascinating charm of the profound mystery in which its rites and ceremonies are shrouded, it is nevertheless quite manifest, that an institution, uniting as this does in one common bond, every grade and station of society, and every diversity of sectional or political interests, binding together in the most sacred ties, men of every clime, government, and religion, cannot but exercise an unbounded influence, either for good or for evil. The utter fallacy of all fears of the injurious tendency of Odd-Fellowship has already been most ably and satisfactorily demonstrated, by those who have preceded me in the task of expounding the doctrines, and vindicating the principles of our Order. I shall therefore take it for granted, that the vulgar prejudices which may once have existed against us, have long since been exploded, and instead of attempting to allay fears and lull suspicions which do not exist, I will endeavour to excite your respect and admiration for Odd-Fellowship, by pointing out in what manner it is likely to become a most powerful engine of good to society. In doing so I will allude to those practical benefits which have already been derived from it, and which give such undoubted evidence of its future usefulness.

By some it may be thought a rash undertaking, at this stage of our existence, to place our claim to popular favor on the ground, of the good which we have already effected-yes, I hold it to be a sacred duty we owe the public that they should be satisfied of the utility of our institution. In a government like ours, where the popular will is the source of all power, the people have a right to know, by what means and in what manner, an institution possessing such unbounded influence as ours, and conducting its proceedings under the dark veil of absolute secrecy, intends to effect the ostensible object of its organization.

I would, however, by no means admit the right, either moral or legal, of any man, or of any government, to pry into our secret rites or mysteries; and although in the present state of information on the subject of Ŏdd-Fel