resemble the heroes they celebrate: Homer, boundless and irresistible as Achilles, bears all before him, and shines more and more as the tumult increases; Virgil, calmly daring like Æneas, appears undisturbed in the midst of the action; disposes all about him, and conquers with tranquillity. And when we look upon their macl ines, Homer seems like his own Jupiter in his terrors, shaking Olympus, scattering the lightnings, and firing the heavens; Virgil, like the same power in his benevolence, counseling with the gods, laying plans for empires, and regularly ordering his whole creation. Wheel the wild dance And thunders rattle loud, And call the brave To bloody grave, To sleep without a shroud. Our airy feet, So light and fleet, They do not bend the rye That sinks its head when whirlwinds rave, And swells again in eddying wave, As each wild gust blows by. But still the corn, At dawn of morn, Our fatal steps that bore, At eve lies waste, A trampled paste Of blackening mud and gore. *See Exercise LXXV. II. Wheel the wild dance While lightnings glance, And thunders rattle loud, And call the brave To bloody grave, To sleep without a shroud. Wheel the wild dance! Brave sons of France, For you our ring makes room; For banner, spear, and plume. Approach, draw near, Proud cuirassier! Room for the men of steel! Through crest and plate The broadsword's weight Both head and heart shall feel. III. Wheel the wild dance While lightnings glance, And thunders rattle loud, And call the brave To bloody grave, To sleep without a shroud. Burst, ye clouds, in tempest show an Elemental rage is tame To the wrath of man. Waken, lords and ladies gay, On the mountain dawns the day. All the jolly chase is here, With hawk and horse and hunting spear: Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, II. Waken, lords and ladies gay, The mist has left the mountain gray; III. Waken, lords and ladies gay, IV. Louder, louder chant the lay, Tell them youth and mirth and glee, Time, stern huntsman! who can balk, EXERCISE LXXXV. SONG OF PEACE. I. No longer I follow a sound; No longer a dream I pursue; O Happiness! not to be found, Unattainable treasure, adieu! II. I have sought thee in splendor and dress, III. A humble ambition and hope The voice of true wisdom inspires; "Tis sufficient, if Peace be the scope And the summit of all our desires. IV. Peace may be the lot of the mind That seeks it in meekness and love; But rapture and bliss are confined * See sketch in Exercise XVIII. COWPER. EXERCISE LXXXVI. DANIEL WEBSTER, the great American orator and statesman, was born in Salisbury, New Hampshire, January 18th, 1782. He died at Marshfield, Massachusetts, October 24th, 1852. EDWIN P. WHIPPLE, author of the following fine, discriminative sketch, is one of the best of American essayists. He is, also, distinguished as an able and interesting lecturer: few excelling him either in the power to sway the feelings of an audience or to repay with instructive discourse an attentive hearing. He was born in Gloucester, Massachusetts, March 8th, 1819. SKETCH OF WEBSTER. E. P. WHIPPLE. 1. Earnestness, solidity of judgment, elevation of sentiment, broad and generous views of national policy, and a massive strength of expression, characterize all his works. We feel, in reading them, that he is a man of principles, not a man of expelients; that he never adopts opinions without subjecting them to stern tests; and that he recedes from them only at the bidding of reason and experience. He never seems to be playing a part, but always acting a life. 2. The ponderous strength of his powers strikes us not more forcibly than the broad individuality of the man. Were we unacquainted with the history of his life, we could almost infer it from his works. Everything, in his productions, indicates the character of a person who has struggled fiercely against obstacles, who has developed his faculties by strenuous labor, who has been a keen and active observer of man and nature, and who has been disciplined in the affairs of the world. There is a manly simplicity and clearness in his mind, and a rugged energy in his feelings, which preserve him from all the affectations of literature and society. 3. He is great by original constitution. What nature originally gave to him, nature has to some extent developed, strengthened, and stamped with her own signature. We never consider him as a mere debater, a mere scholar, or a mere statesman; but as a strong, sturdy, earnest man. The school and the college could not fashion him into any foreign shape, because they |