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With trembling hands the boon let me bestow,
Hear then, ye nations, what to him ye owe.
Incessant strove the scribe's industrious race,
Lingering and labouring with uncertain pace;
Slow from his hands the works of genius came,
His proudest use to feed th’unsteady flame;
So greatly circumscrib'd his power appears,
A volume oft hath ask'd the toil of years.
The intellectual feast for wealth prepard,
With humble life no generous bounty shar'd;
Depriv'd, by pallid Want's depressing power,
Of cultivated Thought's delusive hour;
And as dull Labour toil'd the livelong day,
Th' unconscious soul in stupid dozings lay.
Yet why despise, in cold, unfeeling strain,
The means by which such glorious works remain?
Or blame the hoarding spirit, that confind
To private use the early fruits of mind?
Soon swell’d with nobler aim the gen'rous heart,
As letters spread their humanizing art;
When gorgeous fanes and palaces inclos'd
The sacred trust for public use dispos'd;
Collected Knowledge op'd her ample stores,
Which yet the eye of curious man explores;
And left-oto call the powers of genius forth,
Those great memorials of surprising worth.
0, Mentz! proud city, long thy fame enjoy,
For with the press thy glory ne'er shall die;
Still may thy guardian battlements withstand
The ruthless shock of war's destructive hand;
Where GuTTEMBERG, with toil incessant, wrought 1
The imitative lines of written thought;

And as his art a nobler effort made,
The sweeping lever his command obey'd;
Elastic balls the sable stains supply,
Light o'er the form the sheeted tympans fly;
The beauteous work returning leaves unfold,
As with alternate force the axle roll'd.
His bosom now unbounded joys expand,
A printed volume owns his forming hand;
The curious work, from sculptur'd blocks imprest,
The rising glories of his art confest.

To give to distant times a name more dear,
To spread the blessing through a wider sphere,
Shoeffer and Faust, with kindling ardour fir'd,
Lent the strong aid that thirst of fame inspir'd;
The stubborn block, with rude unchanging form,
One end could answer, but one task perform;
Till Faust, with all his powers of genius ripe,
Struck the fine die, and cast the moving type;
That ever, as the curious artist willid,
In some new station some new office fill'd.

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Aided by thee, O art sublime! our race
Spurns the opposing bonds of time and space;
With Fame's swift flight to hold an equal course,
And taste the streams from Reason's purest source.
Yet some there are, whose dread, unhallow'd hand,
To deeds of guilt thine energies command,
For giddy youth's unguarded hour prepare
The luring tale, the foul, immoral snare.
May Vice, thy pow'rs, in these our pages, find,
To cast in Virtue's mould the plastic mind.

THE LOVE OF OUR COUNTRY.

He loves his old hereditary trees.

Cowley.

The patriotism, or love of our country, has, in all ages, and by all nations, been deemed one of the noblest passions that can warm and animate the breast of man. No person is born to be a mere cumberer of the ground, far 'less a solitary creature detached from the rest of mankind, without any capacity of discerning a public good, or without any calls and motives prompting its advancement. We were all born social beings, members of a community, capable of comprehending its interests, of taking a share in its dearest concerns, and are stimulated by the strongest motives to pursue its security with redoubled zeal and ardour. Let us, therefore, beware of following these strange and erratic lights which now and then appear in the world; but especially let us guard against that laxity of principles which, by loosening our affections from their proper objects, and alienating our minds from our mother country, tears asunder the firmest bands of society, and separates the nearest connections of life. To be without natural affection, is a mark of deep depravity and corruption. It is monstrous, and betrays either the rebel or the traitor lurking in our bosom; or, rather, it is mere affectation, for it is not possible for any son to be so void of filial affection as to prefer a stranger to the fond parent that brought him into the world; or a foreign land to the country by which he has been fed and nourished' from his youth upwards. It is not possible for any one to be so destitute of principle, or so dead

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to the feelings natural to every heart, as seriously to fancy himself in the bosom of society, raised to such a state of absolute independence as exempts him from those duties which the common condition of humanity necessarily requires.

.... If it be true, that we are not only born part of the great society of mankind, but members of a particular state, which recognises us as its children at the moment of our birth, adopts us into its family, and takes us under its special care and protection; surely, for the many benefits bestowed upon us in early years, that state has a just claim to our future fidelity and public services. Protection and allegiance are reciprocal; and so are the duties of princes and people, governors and governed.

.... Consult the lives and characters of the greatest and best of men recorded in history, of those sages, legislators, and heroes who have shone as the lights of the world. Were they not all eminent for love of their country? Did they not rejoice in every opportunity of promoting its honour, its interest, and security? What did they not do and suffer in its defence, when difficulty and danger called for their services? And, after having done all they could, were they not ready to confess that they had done no more that their duty? Being connected with the soil by the most endearing ties, the ties of nature, too strong and too complicated to be broken, they felt themselves deeply interested in the fate of their native land. Every recollection of what passed in their youthful days, when their minds were void of care, and their hearts unspotted from the world, seemed dear to them. Every scene, after long absence, which the eyes of innocence had been accustomed to behold, on their return to their country, had its peculiar beau. ties, its irresistible charms. The intimate friends and companions of their youth they recognized with joy, as the objects of their earliest and warmest affection. The ground upon which their infant steps had trodden, and where they had been trained up in the way they should go, they reviewed with inexpressible pleasure. The temple in which their tongue first learned to sing praise to God, and in which their ears first heard the glad tidings of the gospel, they regarded with more than common veneration. Even among the sepulchres of their fathers, distinguished for piety, and famed for virtue, they could not walk but with thoughtful silence, and, while they mused, the fire burned; and this remembrance of worthy characters had a moral influence upon the heart.

Let these patriotic sentiments arouse our attention, and inflame our hearts in these times, which imperiously call forth the love of his country in the breast of every Englishman.

FRENCH INGENUITY. A MODERN ANECDOTE.

Odora canum vis.--Virgil.

Sagacious hounds. A FRENCHMAN went to a rich Jew, and told him he wished to exchange a number of dollars for Louis d'ors, which he was under the necessity of immediately procuring. The Jew, after bargaining to his own advantage, consented, and promised the gold should be ready

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