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TELL'S ADDRESS TO THE ALPS.
of happy freedom. And more than once has it been necessary to forbid by military orders, in the armies of the Swiss mercenaries, the singing of their native songs.”— Orville Dewey.
THERE is a land, of every land the pride,
XIII. TELL'S ADDRESS TO THE ALPS. “ It might at first seem that patriotism, which implies a preference of one country over another, was opposed to philanthropy, which embraces in its generous scope the whole human family. But a consideration of the practical effect of patriotism will lead us not merely to dismiss all distrust, but to admire that dispensation of Providence, by which the inhabitants of every land, whether it be a region of sterile mountains, or an inhospitable climate of snow, or a land flowing with milk and honey, or a desert of sand, are attached to the soil where their lot is cast. In the first place, this love is a source of contentment and happiness, even though it may be founded in ignorance or false comparisons; and in the second place, it excites the people to seek the good and promote the prosperity of the inhabitants. It stimulates them to act individually and unitedly, and, in cases of emergency, to put forth great efforts in the sacred cause of country, whether it be to realize some desirable object, or avert some threatened evil.”
Goodrich's Fireside Education.
YE crags and peaks, I'm with you once again!
! I hold my hands to you
Scaling yonding peak,
THE LIGHT OF HOME.
XIV. THE LIGHT OF HOME. • The heart has memories that never die. They are memories of home-early home. There is a magic in the very sound. There is the old tree under which the light-hearted boy swung many a day; yonder the river in which he learned to swim: there the house in which he knew a parent's protection; nay, there is the room in which he romped with brother and sister, long since, alas ! laid in the grave in which he must soon be gathered, over-shadowed by yon old church, whither, with a joyous troop like himself, he has often followed his parents to worship with, and hear the good old man who ministered at the altar.
* There are certain feelings of humanity, and those too, among the best, that can find an appropriate place for their exercise only by one's own fireside.”—Dr. Hawkes.
My boy, thou wilt dream the world is fair,
And thy spirit will sigh to roam;
Forget the light of home.
It dazzles to lead astray :
When thou treadest the lonely way.
And pure as vestal fire :
For nature feeds the pyre.
And thy hopes may vanish like foam;
Then look to the light of home ;-
Thou shalt see the beacon bright!
Can be quench'd its holy light.
But the heart ne'er felt its ray ;
Are but the beams of a wintry day.
Should life's wretched wanderer come!
SARAH Q. HALE
XV. THE HAPPIEST LAND. FRAGMENT OF A MODERN BALLAD FROM THE GERMAN. WHENCE does this love of our country, this universal passion, proceed? Why does the eye ever dwell with fondness upon the scenes of infant life? Why do we breathe with greater joy the breath of our youth? Why are not other soils as grateful, and other heavens as gay? Why does the soul of man ever cling to that earth where it first knew plea
are and pain, and, under the rough discipline of the passions, was roused to the dignity of moral life? Is it only that our country contains our kindred and our friends? And is it nothing but a name for our social affections? It cannot be this; the most friendless of human beings has a country which he admires and extols, and which he would, in the same circumstances, prefer to all others under heaven. Tempt him with the fairest face of nature, place him by living waters under shadowy trees of Lebanon, open to his view all the gorgeous allurements of the climates of the sun, he will love the rocks and deserts of his childhood better than all these, and thou canst not bribe his soul to forget the land of his nativity; he will sit down and weep by the waters of Babylon when he remembers thee, oh Sion !Rer. Sydney Smith.
THERE sat one day in quiet,
By an alehouse on the Rhine,
And drank the precious wine.
Around the rustic board ;
And spake not one rude word.
A Swabian raised his hand,
Long live the Swabian land !
Cannot with that compare ;
And the nut-brown maidens there."
And dashed his beard with wine,
Than that Swabian land of thine!
It is the Saxon land!
As fingers on this hand I”
83 “ Hold your tongues ! both Swabian and Saxon !"
A bold Bohemian cries ;
In Bohemia it lies.
And the cobbler blows the horn,
Over mountain gorge and bourn.”
Up to heaven raised her hand,
XVI. ENGLAND'S HEART.
“ The great distinction of a country, is, that it produces superior
Its natural advantages are not to be disdained. But they are of secondary importance. No matter what races of animals a country breeds. The great question is, does it breed a noble race of men? No inatter what its soil may be. The great question is, how far is it prolific of moral and intellectual power? No matter how stern its climate is, if it nourish force of thought and virtuous purpose. These are the products by which a country is to be tried, and institutions have value only by the impulse which they give to the mind. It has sometimes been said, that the noblest men grow where nothing else will grow. This we do not believe, for mind is not the creature of climate or soil. But were it true, we should say, that it were better to live among rocks and sands, than in the most genial and productive region on the face of the earth.”- Channing.
ENGLAND's heart! Oh never fear