صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

G

tuous form!--what grace !--what dignity!--what beau- | sweetly in his face. That smile! it was almost irrety!-what gentleness! And the lover that hung over sistible. her, and the artist that glanced at his own penciling, “Julia Rivers, why have you taken this imprudent were the same. That young artist! His face was in- step ?" asked Andeli, in unconcealed anger. telligent and expressive, the cheeks were somewhat pale, “For your love, Lucien." but not so much so as the broad, snow-like forehead; “Pshaw! for my love !" echoed he, not at all calmed the nose was slightly acquiline ; the lips wore a con- by the confession. stant smile, and the eyes were large and black, twink- “Ah! you little know the struggles I have under. ling over his whole face like bright stars, and at once gone in restraining such feelings,” exclaimed she, as betraying the deep fervor of the mind, and the immor- the tears stole down her cheeks—that surest weapon of tal and undying longings of the soul. It was a rare woman—"I have striven to banish you from my heart, study, was the face of that young artist! Love and but the impression is indelible. In my very dreams Ambition were never so nicely imbodied.

your name has been upon my lips, and your goodness Love and Ambition !-the one the sultana of the always before me. Lucien, I love you!" heart-the other the monarch of the soul! Who has Angelic creature, I prefer making love to you !" not felt their power? The warrior, in his tent, mar- said he; “ go home, and when I visit you, receive me shals them to watch upon his dreamy couch. The with your brightest smiles.” poet, in his garret, awakens them to glide in medita- “But, Meta" tion's sparkling stream. The artist, loo, feels their "Mention not that name, Lady Rivers,” interrupted influence, as he portrays the fresh and beautiful color-Andeli, indignantly—“she is too pure to be thought ings of his rainbow-tinted pencil. What charms, what of by you—and her very name, hallowed as it is by spells, do they not steal from his passionate heart! The sweetest remembrances, must not-shall not be spoken Warrior courts them; but his sword is forgotten, when by you." the hand that wielded it is cold. The poet woos them;

“You terrify me. What is Meta to you, more but his lyre is still, when the hand that touched its thanchords is powerless. But the artist feels their prompt- “Charles, get my carriage, and see Lady Rivers ings, and is death less. His productions are seen and home," again interrupted her words, as the speaker adored, when his body mingles with the dust, and the hurried from her into an adjoining room. Presently willow of centuries glooms above its voiceless grave. he heard the carriage drive to the house--the door They are the golden chains that connect the present opened—a foot was on the step-the door closed-and with the by-gone-and Love and Ambition are their away it flew. wizard inspirers.

Lucien Andeli-for that was the artist's name—had Lucien Andeli was one of those characters very selarisen, and was striding to and fro in his studio. A dom to be met with in the present times. He was a gentle rap was heard at the outer door, which awoke dreamer, and it is perhaps better that but few such now the servant dozing there.

exist. With him every thing was bright, and fresh, " Is Lucien Andeli at home ?" inquired a soft voice. and joyous. Earth, with its chilling and blighting The servant stepped into the room, and informed his cares, was to him an unweeded paradise ; for he had master that a flower girl, who had called twice during passed through the flowery portals, and dwelt in the his absence, wished to see him.

land of dreanis. A shadow had not dimmed the sunThe flower girl entered. By the dim light of a lamp, shine--a falsehood had not plucked the rose-plume. she seemed about the middle height, fair and graceful

. The heart—the spiritHer dress was slight and loose-thrown carelessly over

“Ever in motion--that plays a most enchanting form. Her skin was white and Like the lightning iu autumn's shadowy days," transparent, and her eyes blue and languishing.

he possessed, and with them moved calmly and sweetly "Well, my pretty girl, what do you want?" inquired along, extracting from every object that met his attenthe artist.

tion a new freshness and gaiety. He lived in the She held up a bunch of flowers.

golden-we in the iron age. He had not left, as it "Ah, you wish to sell me flowers. There is a bunch were, the bright and glowing heavens for the obscure in which is a rose scarce budded—so like my Meta. 1 and shadowy earth. No! He lived in the en ing will take that.”

moonlight of the by-gone-when poetry was a wan. The girl shuddered at the mention of that name, and derer from the heart-when music was sweeter than replied

the song of stars. No wonder that, in the glaring day“But do you love none other than Meta ? Rumor light of the present, such as him have no abiding speaks of others-Lady Julia Rivers—"

place. I would as soon think of beholding the bright"Oh, my patroness—an artful coquet-a beautiful plumed bird of paradise wandering along the dreary creature-but without soul."

desert, or the rosy star of twilight shedding its beams The man entered here with lights, and again dissapol at mid-day upon the blessed earth! peared.

Yet with all those qualities, which had rendered " Lucien," whispered the girl, in a low and tremulous him unfit to mingle with men--with all of his high and voice.

ennobling aspirations--Andeli was linked with a band "Julia, by the mass !” exclaimed Andeli, as he of low and sordid adventurers. Revenge is not choice started to his feet.

in its means; so that the goal is achieved, we scan not “Lucien, do you now deem me a coquet ?” said she, the way through which we passed to gain it. Love as she arose, and twining her arms around him, smiled litself

, with all of its strong and high-toned impulses,

[ocr errors]

is not stronger than the deep, unchanging, irresistible | have been fearfully avenged. I may die-the same current of revenge.

mystic and unwavering light may whiten upon my That fair young artist had suffered feelings to enter stiffened bones—but, thank heaven, they will not know his breast, that would taint the heart, as does poison, of the grief that gnawed at my heart, and bid me conthe most sparkling stream. And now that I think of centrate all my thoughts of love, and hope, and ambiit, were I a blood-thirsty monarch upon his throne, in-lion-in revenge.” stead of a pale, sickly student, with tintless cheeks He paused in the train of his reflections. It was a and streaming eyes, I would just as quickly unfurl the fit hour for man's communion with his own heart, and "star-spangled banner of the free,” or let the shout of long and calmly did that young artist do so. He freemen drown the groans of abject slaves, as permit scanned the past and the present, and as he did so, sternan arlist to mingle with my courtiers. It may be a ly, but without a pang, did be look forward to that one queer notion, but I have always thought there's some-dread but fixed aim. If he faltered a moment, the bloody thing in the profession, in the impulses that it draws form of his brother would appear before him and urgehim forth, in the dreams that it weaves around the mind, on to a deed which would sweep the murderers from in the revelations that it throws about the heart, that the ground which they cumbered, and reinstate France renders it averse to slavery. Is it but a dream that in her former glories—though it would bathe her vine haunts my couch ?—is it but a shadow that has risen yards with blood, and stamp his name as a butcher of in the silence of my chamber? No! The tyrant may war. forge the chain, but the artist wears it not, until the high imaginings have departed from the mind's sanc

CHAPTER IV. tuary, or the stamp of thought and soul is stolen from its inward altar.

Hempskirke. It was the fellow, suro. It was Andeli who rescued Francis Armine. Not,

Wolfort. What are you, sirrah?

Beggar's Bush. as may be supposed by accident; but to screen the conspirators, whose proceedings hereafter, as far as

I call upon thee, and compel

Byrof. concerns this narrative, shall be developed. In the

Thyself to be thy proper hell! popular turnult, he had turned the tide to suit their pur

She came! poses, without themselves being known or suspected,

A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded

A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet solded. as schemers against the state. The seeds of a mighty revolution had been scattered abroad by invisible hands, Paris rested in the distance, as 'silent as when, cenand Paris had witnessed, without knowing it, the rise turies before that time, the wanderer had passed through of the curtain, which, ere it fell, might usher in one of the wilderness from which it had sprung. The Seine the most fearful tragedies ever enacted upon the arena was calm and serene, as the stars glittered along its of scathed and bloody Europe--and that too, in a motionless waters; and with outstretched arms, in its country where the footsteps of war had scarcely been unbroken sleep, seemed sheltering the vessels that lay erased, and where the tracery of blood had scarcely on its bosom. Along the shores could not even be seen been dried—in France--gloomy, crushed, yet illus- the torch of the fisherman, that was wont to flash upon trious France !

the tideless stream, through the dun obscurity and Andeli had left his studio—had wended through the gloom of night's solemn noon. No sound came through streets of Paris, and from where he walked, they could the immoving air from the city. Its very heart seemed scarce be seen in the perspective. All around him was to have ceased its vibrations. But a short time had becoming more and more silent and dull, and as he passed since it beat with care, and toil, and crime; it muyed along, the clocks of the city struck twelve, which was now still—but the dark thoughts, the low appetites, could scarce be heard through the heavy air. The the brutal lusts, the fierce passions, yel dwelt there, to stars were still standing on high, like sentinels of Time, awaken again, refreshed and invigorated. Paris ley, and the moon was still pouring its light upon the earth. like a mighty giant, whose iron limbs, and strong Andeli gazed upon the heavens, and these were his hands, and hardened nerves, no force could tame and no thoughts--these were the memories that the hour and power withstand; but who, at the voice of nature, the place drew forth ;

sank quietly down to rest, and arose again to curb, or "Blessings on his memory. Never did the moon crush, or overthrow. smile so brightly as on that remembered night. Three The young artist whom we have thus far followed, summers have passed since then, yet how well I re- had paused, and with feelings member that deed. Ac my father's door we sat-a

“Heavy as frost and deep almost as life.” shriek called our attention, and even as I turned, a minion of the tyrant plunged his poniard to my brother's he gazed upon the distant city, so lately the scene of heart, and disappearing, left that brother's form almost strife, and now so silent; thoughts of the past and the nailed to the green curf on which he lay—the blood future were fitting by him; and strange to say, that oozing out like so much water, and the young and with his future, even then he linked the fortiines of him, beautiful countenance locked in the stern pang of the mysteries of whose life form the principal feature of death. Wildly, madly, did I cry for justice—but I was this narrative. Stranger still, that unknown as tas scoffed and derided ; and the voice of revenge that I Francis Armine to him, the very thought of him should then vowed, ascended through the silence of nature, be accompanied with a dread and a warning

. Are we and was recorded on the leger book of heaven. My not the ministers of our own fate? Is it then strange

, lost but unforgotten brother, have I not kept the row that although the vista of the future is untrod, is for ere that moon smiles its last rays again, you will shadows should rest upon the present? No, it is not

That same power which permits us not to throw back though not pitiless. With a firm composure, Andeli the veil, sends to us dreams and omens to warn us of motioned to him to proceed. the mysteries which it conceals. We are prophets, yet “Lucien Andeli, I wish to go and shake hands with of what avail is our knowledge. We approach the the world again. Nay, start not, nor deem it strange. precipice, yet shun it not; or shunning it, still work They who have stepped between me and happiout the destiny written for us, in unalterable characters ness—who have changed the current of my beingon the book of fate.

who would have trampled upon me, when I fell to their We seek not to penetrate into secret thoughts; suf- own level-must again receive me. I have shrank from fice it that actions show their import. We seek not to their intercourse for years, and now I wish again to trace the lightning from its cloud-built home, but to mingle with them. The name of Montanvers must show ils dread effects. In its blasting and devastating not be forgotten-it must again be on the lips of men, path, we can behold enough of its power, without seek. who feel and dread its influence. It must again be ing the unaltainable, or grasping higher than the limited sighed by the soft voices of your women. I have a fit faculties of earth-chained mind will permit. Sacred resting place in yon cave-the earth my bed—the rock be the secrets of the soul! We pass from them to the my pillow; yet neither so pleasant as the downy couch. thoughts which find words to speak their meaning, as My clothes are worn and ragged, and food I have not passes a traveller, who has lingered a moment in the tasted for two days. I see you understand my wishes, dark valley, to the unshadowed earth.

and will meet them ?" "It was a well timed blow," said Andeli, as with an “Montanvers, do you remember how and why we effort be again adverted to the events of that evening. last parted ?" asked Andeli, after listening with a feel" It was a well timed blow, and it must be quickly fol-ing of contempt to his remarks. lowed—for ere the conspiracy is known, my revenge “ Let that be forgotten with the past. You have must be consummated. The hurricane has yet to come; money and friends, and must reinstate me in the world.” a few drops have fallen from the overcharged cloud, “Must !" echoed Andeli. heralds alone of the coming storm—and when it comes “Ay, must!" returned he. “If our former friendship in its wrath, wo-wo, to them on whom it falls !" will not influence you, know that I have that which

Forgetful of all but the feelings which had for years will. You are in my power. Your schemes are open mastered every hope and aspiration of his younger days, to me. Have I in vain attended your secret meetings, he was recommencing his walk, without observing that and heard your pleading and your advice? Have I in to his incoherent exclamations he had a listener. On vain listened but now to your words, spoken, as you looking up, he beheld a dark form towering above him. thought, to the winds ? No! not in vain. One word, The intruder is known to our readers, and a few of the if I but speak, it consigns you and your friends to a neighboring peasantry, as the hermit of the cave, and disgraced and miserable grave. Andeli, are we or are had becn standing near his retreat when he heard the we not friends?” Sternly did he rivet his eye upon the words of Andeli. He had scarcely caught his attention, face of the young artist, io inquire, before words could before he leaped from the rock on which he stood, and speak it, the reception of his inquiry. They were stood before the artist. His dark featured face, his calm and open, and now his gaze was returned as long and matted beard, his gray and uncombed hair, boldly and sternly as it was given. and his dirty and ragged dress, together with his bold “We are not,” replied he, in a clear and fearless swaggering manner, rendered him an object of disgust. voice.

"Who dares in trude thus upon my walk ?" inquired “Beware of my enmity." Andeli, in a mena cing tone, as he drew back at the ap- “Beware rather of mine,” returned Andeli, “and proach of the hermit, who, leaning over the artist, whis- know that for the cause in which I am pledged, I fear pered in his ear

not the interruption of one so foul as the murderer of “Andeli, hast thou forgotten Montanvers ?Maria Serle." The young man started. The blond left his cheek, Andeli thought rightly, that the memory of that deed and the cold perspiration stood on his forehead. It would move his enemy from his purpose. It touched a could not be. He looked again, and almost shuddered chord long dormant, and thrilled upon every fibre of his beneath the ardent gaze that met his own. Those few frame. He attempted to smother the feeling, which words had rolled back the veil of past years, and only rendered it more intense. Conscience could not be brought to his memory one whom he had met but once stilled. It was like a stream whose waters have been since his boyhood. Again stood before him the once stopped in their course, and which, on finding an outlet, gifted and brilliant Montanvers—now, as his appear- rush impetuously forth, with a loud voice and a mighty ance indicated, the shunned and pitied, if not abhorred leap. The cheek was paled—the hands were clenched, outcast.

until the blood almost started from the thin, bony fin“Ha! I see you remember me,” exclaimed he, not gers-large, heavy drops of sweat hung about his forewithdrawing his fixed gaze.

head; and his eyes, now brightened and now darkened, "I do, although you have altered much,” replied as with partial insanity. The earth seemed to move Andeli.

from beneath him; he was one moment kneeling, as if at “Yes, time has passed over me rather roughly since confession, and in the next he seemed to tread on air. we met last. The world and myself, Andeli, have “Spirit of the lost! you yet hover around me,” raved wrangled much. But I am wearied now, and would ask he. “From the early grave you rise to crush me. a favor at your hands,” said he, as he scanned, with an | Your curse is yet with me. You wander forever on inquiring look, the features of his companion. He the wings of the air. Your flight is in the calm and in could read nothing there, for they were cold and stern, I the whirlwind, and the trees bend swiftly to your footsteps, and the winds echo to the music of your voice. And he drew her closer to him—their lips clung into Beautiful one! you are with me, through the gloomy a long and passionate kiss ; her transparent cheek restnight, and amid the sunshine of mid-day. You are ed on his shoulder--and her bosom glowed in morethere-there--there. Hush ! lest I fright you. I see ments with his own. Softly to their ears was borne the you as once I saw you—but even now you change, and voice of the pratiling stream-the low musical tone of your own blood streams over that beautiful face, and the gushing fountain—the sweet hum of myriads of inaround those exquisite limbs. Ha! who did that deed ? sects--the bland whisper of the wandering wind, and You smile. It was these hands. Ha! ha! ha!” and the clear cry of the night-bird, as it wheeled its course with that strange and unearthly laugh he stretched in the perfumed air, over streams, and cots, and vineforth his hands, as if grasping at something in the air, yards. It was as though nature welcomed the meeting, and fell to the earth.

and sent up her voice from the silent forests and tide. Andeli saw him fall into that deathlike swoon, and less streams for her young and delicate children. turning, swiftly moved along. He had not walked far, Thus, on the shores of the golden Seine, sat the ere he approached a small and neat white cottage, lovers-alas! they were not wedded! She sought around whose door and windows clustered the vine and not, desired not the rank from which she had fallenthe honeysuckle, flinging at once a shade and a fra- the name which she had forfeited. Around him closgrance about the spot. A fit haunt was this for love tered the brightening dream--alas! that it was but a and beauty! An angel, as it wheeled its course above dream !-of a fresh, first love. Poor child: she knew the earth, might well start at meeting a place so beau- not the sin-heard not of the shame of such a passion. tiful in this dark world, and watch and protect its gen. And he-by the world's law deemed the guiltier—in the tle inmates ere it again departs to the far off heavens, opening of manhood, in his wanderings, had met her, Before the cottage lay wide and boundless plains, that and forgotten home, and kindred, and ambition, in the stretched to the shores of the Seine, and in its rear was breath of a passionate and a guilty love. the dark and still forest, and the tall mountains, whose The moon beamed brightly upon the earth, and the peaks were lost in the blue of the sky-whilst closely eternal stars looked down from their deep blue chamaround it, swept a bright and sparkling stream, now bers; and they were clasped in quietness and sleep, prattling with the pebbles, now playing with the reeds, and tranquil was the slumber, and profound was that and now dancing over its green margin, like a wild sleep. They were alone upon the earth, and from its school-girl, singing gaily, as she romps along with a distant home, love, like an angel, descended upon

the light heart and bright smile.

wings of night to their quiet couch. The young artist stopped, and gazed at the window; but it was not the beauteous flowers that clustered there, that caught his eye-it was not the slender ewig or the green vine, bathed as they were in the moon's mystic light, that arrested and rivetted that eye to the spot.

SONNET. It was something fairer and brighter. It was a face lovely in charms-a form rounded into beauty by the

TO THE MAGNOLIA GRANDIFLORA. goddess of love. Another moment, and his form no Majestic flower! how purely beautiful longer threw its shadow upon the grass-it was at her

Thou art, as rising from thy bower of green, feet.

Those dark and glossy leaves, so rich and full, “Meta! my love, my life, I am with thee !" he

Thou standest like a high-born forest queen, whispered, as he arose, and (wining his arm around her small waist, pressed her beating heart, that swelled be. Among her maidens, clustering round so fair! neath its snowy bosom, to his own.

I love to watch thy sculptured form unfolding,

And look into thy depths to image there She was very beautiful--that gentle young girl. Her cherubic features, her slight form, seemed too lovely for And while the breeze sweeps o'er thee, matchless lower,

A fairy cavern; and while thus beholding, earth. Her face was delicate and fair-of a beauty, rather the promise of what will be, than that which is. That comes like incense from thy petai'd bower,

I breathe the perfume, delicate and strong, Her features were gentle, and regular, and open. Her forehead was like a sheet of pure snow, drifted with Beneath that glorious tree, where deep among

My fancy roams the southern woods along, dark and wavy locks of hair-and her cheek like a calm water, with here and there a flushed rose peeping

The unsunn'd leaves thy large white flower-cups

sprung. forth ; but in repose, the faintest dye betwixt the lily and the rose could not equal it. Her lips were of the

Washington City, July, 1939. clearest and softest vermilion; and when parted, displayed two rows of teeth whiter than virgin pearland then her eyes, so soft, and yet so bright. Her dress was rich, but plain; showing that exquisite form ON DREAMING THAT I HEARD A LADY in its natural and most beautiful shape. She gazed upon her lover-for such was he to her ; but her heart

ENGAGED IN PRAYER. was too full for words. She gazed in silent and speech. Methinks I hear her breathe in prayer less eloquence. Not the eloquence of the lip, for that

A heaven-laught, pure, and holy strain : can coin itself to honied words in times of darkest

I would my name were mentioned theredoubt-but the eloquence of the soul, when every look So pure a heart asks not in vain. and action imbodies truth.

C. P.

BY HENRY THOMPSON.

were ready to clothe any man with the imperial purple. TO A BEAUTIFUL CREEK BOY, I repudiate the idea that such was for a moment their

intention; or that their power, had such been their THE EVENING BEFORE HIS EMIGRATION.

design, was equal to accomplish it; and I hold both to

be derogatory to the high character of a patriotic ancesLone child of the forest, thou art now on the'sward, try, and a reflection upon the cause their valor won. Where silently sleepeth its legitimale lord ;

It is a misconceived attempt to heap honor upon the Thou art roaming thy last, o'er the tumulose earth ;

illustrious Washington, by an undesigned detraction O'er the graves of thy people—in the land of thy birth. from the well-earned glory of his associates. The But alas! little Creek, o'er the turf of thy dead,

measure of his fame is already full. He needs no accuThe foot of the stranger will intrusively tread, mulated honor at the expense of his companions in When thou art an exile, far away from the foes,

arms. In "the deeds of high emprise,” which by him Who have pilfered the earth where thy people repose. directed they achieved, in the defence of the liberties Yet in majesty roam, for 'lis here thou wast born, and support of the rights of a common country, there Although Es-la-hat-ket looks on thee with scorn ;

is glory enough for all. Whatever may be our idea of And gaze, Indian boy, on the blossoming rose,

the well deserved honor and confidence in which WashFor thine eyes look their last where thy people repose. ington was held by the army he had so often led to

successful battle, we must not forget the cause for The eagle screams o'er thee, for her eaglets have flown; which they fought,--that all else was secondary to the Her dark eye is on thee--bright, bright as thine own-one great object,—the protection of their country from Bat the bow, little Creek, is unbent in thy hand, invasion, and the establishment of liberty. Let us Never more to be strung in this paradise land. remember that that army were no mercenary soldieryThy arrows are wasted, shot away to the night

but a patriot band who warred for freedom and indeThe proud bird above thee, thou can’st not affright; pendence. And is it to be supposed that these men, at And thine eye cannot weep! 'tis a stranger to tears; the very moment when the object of all their hopes Revenge is not of thee-for few are thy years ; and all their labors was accomplished, were ready to Yet the blood of the Creek, flowing warmly and wild, become the willing subjects of an imperial sway-10 Gashes still in thy veins, aboriginal child !

surrender the very liberty they had achieved as the And gaze while thou may'st on the blossoming rose, price of its acquisition? For thine eyes look their last where thy people repose. But let the documents of the day evidence the objects

sought to be accomplished in the grand enterprise of the revolution, the light in which it was regarded, the spirit in which it was undertaken. Look at the com

mission which Washington held. “We, reposing espeWASHINGTON,

cial confidence in your patriotism, conduct and fidelity,

do, by these presents, constitute and appoint you to AND THE PATRIOT ARMY. be General and Commander-in-Chief of the army of

the United Colonies, &c. for the defence of American The pleasure I took in the perusal of the sketch of the liberty, and for repelling every hostile invasion thereof." life of the late eminent judge and patriot, Jeremiah T. This was the power, these the purposes of its grant, Chase, contained in the June No. of the Messenger, has held under the regulations and directions of Congress, been mingled with pain, at finding therein an inci and revocable at its will. And the instructions which dental assertion, which, if true, is alike to be regarded accompanied its bestowal, like the injunction to the Roas a stain upon the character of our great progenitors, man consulate, made it his “especial care, in discharge and a reproach to the high and holy cause in which of the great trust committed” to him, " that the liberties they so devotedly engaged.

of America receive no detriment." To represent, in the most enviable light, the charac- Look at the great charter of our liberties; read the ters of the great and good, is a feeling spontaneous in detail of enormities perpetrated upon an unoffending every noble mind; but it is no unfrequent error, in people by Britain's king. “He has affected to render striving to exalt the most worthy, lo disparage subordi- the military independent of, and superior to the civil power." nate merit, without whose aid even the highest indivi. Here was one grievance sought to be gotten rid of dual powers and faculties had availed but little.

one outrage which was no longer calmly to be endured. The halo of glory which surrounded the head of the But did the army indeed forget the causes for which father of his country, when he resigned the warrant of they took up arms, or were those alleged but pretence? his command into the hands of that august assembly Can it be, that at the very moment they had wrested from whom he had received it, is surely not increased in their country from an arbitrary rule, and saved barmsplendor or extent, by the announcement that “the less from military subjugation the civil power, they, of army, which he had just left at Newburgh,” was “ready themselves, had it in contemplation to be recreant to all to clothe him with the imperial purple," and that “disdain their plighted vows, and place the man of their choice ing the proudest trophies of ambition, he comes before Con- far above the hold or influence of the proper authoritygress, and begs them to receive the insignia of his authority.” 10 create an imperial dynasty upon the ruins of a regal And as one who, in common with every American, has crown? a share in the heritage of glory which has descended from

The revolution was accomplished. For eight long the patriots of the revolution, I deny that that army years our forefathers had nobly defended " American • The Creek term for " white man."

Liberty," and had successfully “repelled every hostile

« السابقةمتابعة »