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life-commerce, trade, manufactures, the arts, alike with agriculture, developed to full exercise within its borders; it is not alone a Commonwealth, rich in historic memories, as in the enjoyment of all that liberty under law can give to man, with institutions, unequaled in their beneficence, and which have wrought out a higher civilization than history ever before knew -it is not these alone. It is a Country, a Nation, our Dear Native Land—whose Government, whose Union, whose Constitution, whose Laws, are our only safeguard and defence, which brought us out of bondage, which protected our weakness, which nourished our strength, which made us a prosperous and mighty people,—and which, under God, can deliver and save us, and giving us renewed happiness and greatness, can enable us still further to benefit and bless mankind.

Fellow Citizens, that country, that nation, that government is in danger. Perhaps while I speak, the cannon of the enemy are thundering at the gates of its Capitol. Perhaps while you sit here, our brave soldiers are pouring out their blood in the long expected battle which is to determine between loyalty and treason, between falsehood and truth. To determine, did I say? No!

“ For freedom's battle once begun,
Bequeathed by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft is ever won !"

Again they may win a temporary success. They may even storm and capture the city which the sacred name of Washington should protect from vandal hands, shot and shell may demolish its marble halls, fire and sword and pillage may destroy its archives and ornaments, but still the Nation will live on, still shall the Union endure. It was established in righteousness, it has arisen in honor, and the Almighty God is its guardian and guide.

Fellow-citizens, how paltry now seem all minor considerations, all views of individual, or local, or temporary good. It is our Country which calls. Religion, patriotism, pride, self

interest, all alike prompt to energy and effort. Let us each do our humble part. Let us give freely our means and our strength. Let us, if need be, beat our ploughshares into swords, and our pruning-hooks into spears. Let us toil and strive, and fight on to the end,-hoping, praying, believing, that in God's good time it will come, and that amid all these raging billows, and through the fierce storm and tempest, the Ark of our Safety will ride in triumph.

• Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State !
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate !

Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea !
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee-are all with thee.”

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Now hang up the sickle, the reapers are done!
The warm rains, the soft dews, and the sweet summer sun
Have cheerily wrought with the brawny arms here,
And the Harvest Moon smiles on the fruits of the year.

Ho! Freemen of Essex! Stout sons of the soil !
What meed to your labors, what rest to your toil,
While the tread of the traitor pollutes the wronged earth,
And Liberty faints in the land of her birth ?

Runs the blood of your sires pale and weak in your veins !
Will the ringing of gold drown the clanking of chains ?
Will you sit by your firesides and count up your store,
While shame keeps with death, watch and ward at the door ?

No! a thousand times No! thunder out on the air,
Here are strong arms to do—here are brave hearts to dare !
The fair vales that thrilled under Putnam's young tread,
Give birth to no dastards—bring shame to no dead.

By the past that bequeathed us our might of to-day-
By the future that calls up a glory-paved way,
All the strength of our prime, all the fire of our youth,
We joyfully lay on the altar of Truth.

In the sheen of our steel, guilt shall read its just doom.
The breath of the North is the traitor's Simoom !
Flash brightly, sharp steel! Rush swiftly, fierce breath!
And sweep treachery down to the valley of death!

Fling our flag to the breeze! It shall never be furled-
The gleam of its stars is the hope of the world!
With its folds floating o'er us, we gird on the sword,

go forth to fight in the name of the Lord.

Brave yeomen of Essex ! Your field is our Land,
Immortal the fruits it shall yield to your hand.
Match your strength to your day-Sow to God, the good Giver,
And ring out your Harvest-Home once and forever !



The ground occupied for Ploughing was part of the field. that was ploughed last year, well adapted to the purpose, being rather hard, with pebble stones, which is desirable to test the quality of the plough, and try the skill of the ploughman.

It was also well situated, the land rising on either side, giving the large concourse of spectators an opportunity of overlooking the scene, to whom it must have been very pleasant to see nearly twenty teams of different classes competing for the several premiums at the same time. The work was performed in the most quiet manner, without much effort on the part of the teamsters, by the use of the whip, or otherwise, showing that the teams were well disciplined, and the teamsters (though some of them were quite young) were workmen that need not be ashamed. We have before said that there were

as many kinds of ploughs as competitors, forcibly reminding some of your Committee of the great change that has taken place within their remembrance, not only in the quality of the plough, but the ease with which they can be procured.

Memory goes back to the time when ploughs were not man

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