and noxious passion-mist, which we call our soul, is driven without; and our TRUE Soul-the soul of the universe, which we are -enters into us. 3. The spirit which rests like a vapor visibly upon the bosom of the waters, is a presence and a pervading power; and the breath which it exhales is life, and love, and splendid strength. Nothing in nature renders back to man the full and instant sympathy which is accorded by the mighty being who thus re poses mildly in the generous grandeur of his glorious power. We may love the forms of the trees, the colors of the sky, and the impressive vastness of the hills; but we can cover animate them with a soul of life, and persuade ourselves that they experience the feeling which they cause. 4. But the sea, as its countenance shows its myriad mutations with the variety and rapidity of the passions which sport through the breast of man, seems truly to return the emotion which is breathed toward him; and fellowship and friendship-yea, and personal affection—are the sentiments which his gambols rouse in the spectator's heart. The flashing smiles that sparkle in his eye are they not his happy thoughts? and the ripples that fit their scouring dance over his breast-are they not feelings of delight that agitate his frame? 5. Whether I am amid mountains or on plains, there is not an hour in which my existence is not haunted by the remembrance of the ocean. It abides beside me like a thought of my mind; it occupies my total fancy;-I ever seem to stand before it. And I know that whenever it shall fare so ill with me in the world that comfort and consolation can no longer be found in it, I have a păraclete' beside the shelving beach who will give the consolation man withholds. The strong, thick wind which comes from it will be full of life; the petty tumult of care will be shamed by the gigantic struggle of the elements, and subside to peace. What can be more noble or more affecting than the picture of the old priest, who, wronged by the Grecian king— his calm age fired with passion-retires along the shore of the sounding sea, and soothes his breast ere he invokes the god! "Thoughts like those are medicined best by nature." 'Pår' a clote, a comforter; advocate; intercessor. 6. I have never stood by the banks of the ocean thus superbly fringed with curling waves, and listened to that strange, questionable, echoed roar, without an emotion altogether supernatural. That moan-that wail of the waters-which comes to the ear, borne on the wind in the stillness of evening, sounds like the far-off complaint of another world, or the groan of our own world's innermost spirit. Like some of the unearthly music of Germany, when heard for the first time, it startles a feeling in the secret mind which has never before been wakened in this world, giving us assurance of another life, and the strongest proof that our soul is essentially immortal. H. B. WALLACE.1 185. APOSTROPHE TO THE OCEAN. 1. HERE is a pleasure in the pathless woods; There is society, where none intrudes, From all I may be, or have been before, Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain: When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, And shake him from thee: the vile strength he wields 'See Biographical Sketch, p. 542. Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play, 6. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storm, Dark-heaving-boundless, endless, and sublime,— 'Ar ma' da, a fleet of armed ships; a squadron. The term is usually applied to the Spanish fleet called the Invincible Armada, consisting of 130 ships, intended to act against England in the reign of Queen ELIZABETH, A. D. 1588.-- Tråf al går', a cape on the coast of Spain, rendered famous by a naval battle fought there on the 19th of October, 1805, in which Lord NELSON, with an English fleet of 27 sail of the line and 5 frigates, gained a complete victory over a French fleet of 33 sail and 7 frigates. In the heat of the action, NELSON was shot through the back by a musket ball. He survived till the victory was complete; and his last words were, "Thank God, I have done my duty." The image of Eternity-the throne Of the Invisible !-even from out thy slime And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane-as I do here. BYRON. 186. BRUTUS AND TITUS. Brutus. Well, Titus, speak; how is it with thee now! I would attend a while this mighty motion, Look'd down and listen'd to what we were saying: My son, my Titus! is all well again? Titus. So well, that saying how must make it nothing: So well, that I could wish to die this moment, For so my heart, with powerful throbs, persuades me That were indeed to make you reparation; That were, my lord, to thank you home-to die And that, for Titus, too, would be most happy. Brutus. How's that, my son? would death for thee be happy! Titus. Most certain, Sir; for in my grave I 'scape All those affronts which I, in life, must look for; All those reproaches which the eyes, the fingers, And tongues of Rome will daily cast upon me,— From whom, to a soul so sensible as mine, 'See Biographical Sketch, p. 292. Each single scorn would be far worse than dying. Groans and convulsions, and discolor'd faces, Yes, Sir; I call the powers of heaven to witness, Brutus. Thou perfect glory of the Junian race! Bares his sad head, and passes sentence on thee. Shall never see thee more! Titus. Why art thou moved thus? Alas! my lord, Why am I worth thy sorrow? Why should the godlike Brutus shake to doom me? Why all these trappings for a traitor's hearse? The gods will have it so. Brutus. They will, my Titus ; Nor heaven nor earth can have it otherwise. |