If it is to have no influence in the government, what and where is its power to protect itself? Perhaps the power to buy off violence; to buy off the barbarian who comes to lay it waste, by a reward, which will but invite a double swarm of barbarians to return next year. Is this one of the modes alluded to? This, I am well assured, never entered into the clear mind of the very intelligent gentleman from Frederick.

How else, then, may property be expected to protect itself? It may be answered, by the influence which it gives to its owner. But in what channels is that influence exerted? It is the influence which prevents the poor debtor from going against the will of his creditor; which forbids the dependent poor man from exerting any thing like independence, either in conduct or opinion; an influence which appeals to avarice on both sides, and depends for its effect on rousing the worst and basest of passions, and destroying all freedom of will, all independence of opinion.

Is it desirable to establish such an influence as this? an influence which marches to power through the direct road to the worst, and most monstrous of aristocracies, the aristocracy of the purse? An influence which derives its effect from the corruption of all principle, the blinding of the judgment, and the prostration of all moral feeling? and whose power is built on that form of aristocracy, most of all to be dreaded in a free government? The gentleman appeals to fact, and says that property always has protected itself, under every form of government. The fact is not admitted. Property never has protected itself long, except by the power which it possessed in the government. UPSHUR.

41.-WHAT'S HALLOWED GROUND?

WHAT'S hallow'd ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker meant not should be trod

By man, the image of his God,

Erect and free,

Unscourged by superstition's rod

To bow the knee?

That's hallow'd ground-where, mourn'd and miss'd,

The lips repose our love has kiss'd ;

But where's their memory's mansion? Is't

No! in ourselves their souls exist,

Yon churchyard's bowers?

A part of ours.

A kiss can consecrate the ground

Where mated hearts are mutual bound:

The spot where love's first links were wound,

That ne'er are riven,

Is hallow'd, down to earth's profound,

And up to heaven!

For time makes all but true love old;
The burning thoughts that then were told

Run molten still in memory's mould,

And will not cool

Until the heart itself be cold

In Lethe's pool.

What hallows ground where heroes sleep?

'Tis not the sculptured piles you heap:

In dews that heavens far distant weep

Their turf may bloom;

Their coral tomb.

Or Genii twine beneath the deep

But strew his ashes to the wind,

Whose sword or voice has saved mankind

And is he dead, whose glorious mind

Lifts thine on high ?

To live in hearts we leave behind,

Is not to die.

Is't death to fall for freedom's right?
He's dead alone that lacks her light?
And murder sullies, in Heaven's sight,

The sword he draws:

What can alone ennoble fight?

A noble cause!

Give that; and welcome war to brace

Her drums! and rend heaven's reeking space !

The colours planted face to face,

The charging cheer

Though death's pale horse lead on the chase,

Shall still be dear.

And place our trophies where men kneel
To Heaven!-But Heaven rebukes my zeal;
The cause of truth and human weal,

O God above!

Transfer it from the sword's appeal

To peace and love !

Peace, love-the cherubim that join
Their spread wings o'er devotion's shrine-
Prayers sound in vain, and temples shine,

The heart alone can make divine

When they are not;

Religion's spot.

To incantations dost thou trust,
And pompous rites in domes august?
See mouldering stones and metal's rust

Belie the vaunt,
That men can bless one pile of dust

With chime or chant.

The ticking wood-worm mocks thee, man! Thy temples creeds themselves grow wan!

But there's a dome of nobler span,

A temple given
Thy faith, that bigots dare not ban-
Its space is heaven!

Its roof star-pictured, nature's ceiling,
Where trancing the rapt spirit's feeling,
And God himself to man revealing,

The harmonious spheres Make music, though unheard their pealing,

By mortal ears.

Fair stars! are not your beings pure?
Can sin, can death your world's obscure ?
Else why so swell the thoughts at your

Aspect above?

Ye must be heavens that make us sure

Of heavenly love !

And in your harmony sublime
I read the doom of distant time;

That man's regenerate soul from crime

Shall yet be drawn,

And reason on his mortal clime

Immortal dawn.

What's hallow'd ground? "Tis what gives birth

To sacred thoughts in souls of worth !

Peace! independence! truth! go forth

Assembled lords and warriors of Illyria,
Hear, and avenge me! Twice ten years have I
Stood in your presence, honour'd by the king,
Beloved and trusted. Is there one among you,
Accuses Raab Kiuprili of a bribe ?

Or one false whisper in his sovereign's ear?
Who here dares charge me with an orphan's rights
Outfaced, or widow's plea left undefended?
And shall I now be branded by a traitor,
A bought-bribed wretch, who, being called my son,
Doth libel a chaste matron's name, and plant
Hensbane and aconite on a mother's grave?
Th' underling accomplice of a robber,
That from a widow and a widow's offspring
Would steal their heritage? To God a rebel,
And to the common father of his country

A recreant ingrate !

What means this clamour? Are these madmen's voices ?
Or is some knot of riotous slanderers leagued
To infamize the name of the king's brother
With a black falsehood? Unmanly cruelty,
Ingratitude, and most unnatural treason?
What mean these murmurs? Dare then any here
Proclaim Prince Emerick a spotted traitor?

One that has taken from you your sworn faith,
And given you in return a Judas' bribe,
Infamy now, oppression in reversion,
And Heaven's inevitable curse hereafter ?
Yet bear with me a while? Have I for this
Bled for your safety, conquer'd for your honour ?
Was it for this, Illyrians! that I forded
Your thaw-swollen torrents, when the shouldering ice
Fought with the foe, and stain'd its jagged points
With gore from wounds I felt not? Did the blast
Beat on this body, frost and famine-numb'd,
Till my hard flesh distinguish'd not itself
From the incensate mail, its fellow warrior ?
And have I brought home with me victory,
And with her, hand in hand, firm-footed peace,
Her countenance twice lighted up with glory,
As if I had charm'd a goddess down from heaven!
But these will flee abhorrent from the throne
Of usurpation! Have you then thrown off shame,
And shall not a dear friend, a loyal subject,
Throw off all fear? I tell ye, the fair trophies,
Valiantly wrested from a valiant foe,
Love's natural offerings to a rightful king,
Will hang as ill on this usurping traitor,
This brother-blight, this Emerick, as robes
Of gold pluck'd from the images of gods
Upon a sacrilegious robber's back.

COLERIDGE

43.-EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH OF MR. G. MORRIS ON THE JUDICIARY ESTABLISHMENT.

Is there a member of this house who can lay his hand on his heart and say, that, consistently with the plain words of our constitution, we have a right to repeal this law? I believe not. And, if we undertake to construe this constitution to our purposes, and say that the public opinion is to be our judge, there is an end to all constitutions. To what will not this dangerous doctrine lead? Should it to-day be the popular wish to destroy the first magistrate-you can destroy him. And should he, to-morrow, be able to conciliate to him the popular will, and lead them to wish for