A /# 1. , *-^ ^ -^ -tT^-: ■^yf^^Y V^'v-^' ^/-'^.^^-'Z s^-.i -^ J. ^' .^•^°- c^ /y/-:^,-. % ^^0^ .* :'^k' 7^ V'i ■^-AO^ ^. c^-^ ^'A^'l.^ ■^:^^ ■J£- ^^,^ .^^ 0" ^-'\' ^^. A *^ y <^ ■O -^ ^ - s ^ i'V X ^ L- '.'^^'•^V\v:=^« 4 o ,^^ ^o. U '^■p. ^J' :iMM' \-/ .^'% •I r'^ % ^. 7^- ^y ^ol Z^' SUN-RISE PAPERS; OR, LEAVES FROM MY PORT FOLIO BY J. S. OHADBOUHNE- We shall have enough of sleep in our graves." — Poor Richarjj CINCINNATI :— ROBINSON AND JONES. ^ From the Queen City Press, corner of Fourth & Sj^^aniore-Sts. 1847. C a, To Charles Gordon Greene, Esq.. of Boston i With the highest esteem for his ability and in- tegrity as the conductor of an influential puhlic journal, and with admiration for the nobility of his spirit as a man, the following pages are, ivith- out his permission, respectfully inscribed by THE AUTHOR. PREFACE. The following pieces have been taken, almost at random, from a large number of a similar cha- racter, which have been accumulating in the Port Folio of the author, for two or three years past — the fruits of his leisure hours. It was his intention when the first sheets of this pamphlet were printed, several months since, to have made a draught upon the matter thus collected, sufficient for a book of respectable size, in boards; and he would here make his acknowledgments to gentlemen of the Press, for the flattering terms in which they noticed the con- tents of those sheC'S. As the articles, however, were mostly but little more than fragments, and were chiefly in the form of essays, it was afterwards deemed advisable to make an experiment in view of ascer- taining tiie manner in which they would be received by tlie public, by first sending out a few of them in a cheap form, before hazarding the expense of a Book; and it remains to be seen, whether the dove which has thus been dispatched from the ark, will return with the olive leaf in its mouth. The articles of which it is composed make no pre- tensions, as already intimated, to being finished and VI elaborate productions ; they claim to be nothing more than a simple garland of wild flowers and green leaves, plucked by an enraptured hand from those sweet vales which breathe with perpetual fragrance and ring with perpetual song. As such they are re- spectfully laid at the feet of the public. Covington, Ky., May, 1847. Vll @®lTliTS. PAGE The Toiler, 9 The Statue, 14 "Sports of the Turf," 16 The Eaglets, 21 Balloons and Ballooning, .... 22 A Day on Lake Eri«, 24 Anecdote of Dress, 36 The Wolves, 38 Song, . . 39 Our Naval Victories, ... . . 40 The Village Preacher, . . . . .42 Angels, . 48 Clouds, ........ 50 The Literature of Signs, .... 53 Two Days at Niagara, 54 To an Ocean Cliff, 62 On a Green Veil, 64 The Village Orator, 64 The Giant Oak, 71 Visit to North Bend, . .... 74 The Cincinnati Fire Department, . . .72 Self Reliance, 78 Press Onward, . . .... 79 A Chapter on Names, 82 To my Port Folio, Embroider'd by white hands and beauteous eyes, As skillfully as blushing Flora weaves Her roses in the verdant grass and leaves, Beneath Columbia's blue and sunny skies, ToKE?j OF Friendship! thee I greatly prize. An humble destiny is thine; the sheaves Of thought, rich with their weight of harvest gold, Which Genius binds, thou uiayst not hope t' infold; But simple leaves and wild flowers will be thine. Yet if they be as fragrant and as fair, As Mary's virtuous deeds and sunny hair, Thou mayst not o'er thy lowly lot repine. m SUN-RISE PAPERS. THE TOILER. Stand up — erect! thou hast the form And likeness of thy God! — who more'? A soul as dauntless raid the storm Of daily life, a heart as warm And pure as breast ere wore. Gallagher. I. Crouch not at the feet of Mammon- Toiler, bend not to the clod ! Stand thou up in Saxon manhood, Feel thou hast the form of God ! Scorn the rich thy humble cottage? Scorn to take thy toil-hard hand? Vile the scorn — with pity fling it Back upon the craven band. In thy heart is fire more holy, In thy breast a heart more bold, 10 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. Than the rich man hath to battle. Than he hath with all his gold. II. Thou hast struggled long and nobly, And, amid the sweaty hour, Oft hast envied much the rich man, Sitting in hie shady bower. Cast the envy ever from thee! Glory 'lis to earn our bread: Sweet, O sweet, the meal, though humble, Which our own free toil hath spread. Cast the envy ever from thee! Sweet at night our balmy rest, When remorse for sun-light wasted, Harrows not the guilty breast. Cast the envy ever fropi thee! Man on earth hath work to do; And who worketh strongest, boldest, Is the man most great and true. Bowing to thine axe's valor, Forests thunder to the plain; From thy plough and God's rich blessing, Shine the fields with golden grain. Giant ships their sails outspreading, On the wild and boundless sea; Spires and domes in sunlight burning — Toiler! these were reared by thee! Crouch not at the feet of Mammon, Builder of the ship and tower; Greater in thy humble cottage, Than the rich man in his bower. SUN-RISE PAPEKS. III. When the cloud of war is pealing, And the land is filled with woe, Whither come the iron warriors. Who hurl back the dastard foe? In his bower the rich man stayeth, With his cheek all craven white; Flame on high the burning cities, Till the Toiler's arm doth smite; Smite for country and for hearth-stone. Smite to free the land from foes; Smite for country and for hearth-stone — Fall like thunder-strokes his blows. Then the foe dotli rue the onset, And his squadrons wildly flee; Quick embarking in his vessels. Flees he back across the sea. Crouch not at the feet of Mammon, Ye who face the storm of war! Stand ye up, the Sons of Freedom I Stand ye up, and make the law! IV. Now the sun of Peace is shining, And the flowers all brightly bloom: Long, O long, upon the breezes. May they shed their rich perfume. Yet, yet, I see bold warriors. Marching with their flowing plumes ; Loud, O loud, the roar of battle From a field of conflict booms! 11 12 S U N-B ISE PAPERS. Banners on the sky are floating, Banners black and banners white — Darkness all her Hessians pouring — Who doth strike for man and right? In his bower the rich man sitteth, Whilst is waged the fierce affray; Mindless how the contest endeth, There he sits the livelong day. Soft reclining on his cushions, Heeds he not the prisoners' cry — Bound in chains and crushed in dungeons, There he suffers them to die. God of Mercy! bless the Toiler! Quick he did his falchion draw. And with heart for man outgushing, Strong he smites in moral war. Crouch not at the feet of Mammon, Warrior of the living God I — Floating in thy cap white plumage, Scorn to soil it with the clod. V. Thus forever beauty spreading O'er the land and o'er the sea; In the wars his true steel drawing, Honored should the Toiler be. Yet the Toiler toils w/ihonored, And he honoreth not himself I Down he croucheth to the rich man, Down before his hoarded pelf. "I am nothing but a Toiler, Toil I daily for my bread I sun-ris:e papers. 13 Smile upon me, O great rich, man, In thy bower, with roses spread." Shame, shame, upon thee, Toiler! Thus thy children to disgrace: Shame, O shame! at thy low cringing, Manhood hides its blushing face! Shame, O shame, upon the Nation! — Let it burn in prose and rhyme — Virtue mocked and Mammon worshipped^ Sloth beflattered — Labor crime! VI. What will make the Toiler honored 1 What will give him self-respect? What will make him, still a toiler, Be esteemed and stand — erect? Tell us, chainer of the lightning — Ploughman of the Roman state — Tell us, by your bright examples. What will make the Toiler great? Tell us Day, from night outbursting — Stars that shine amid the night : Shout they all in mighty chorus — Give him knowledge — give him light! 2 t 14 S IT N-R ISE PAPERS. THE STATUE What Sculpture is to a block of marble, Education is to the human soul. The philosopher, the saint, the hero, the wise, the g-ood, or the great man, very often lies hid and concealed in a plebeian, which a proper education mig-ht have disinterred and have brought to light. A DDISON, I once saw in the studio of a Sculptor a block of beautiful Italian marble. It was intended for a statue; but the chisel had not yet been applied to it. The fine quality of the stone attracted my attention; but the block was a rough and an unshapely one, and covered with earthy stains. It required indeed close observation to detect the fineness and purity of the marble which was thus obscured. The Sculptor was a young man, ardently attached to his profession, and had procured the block at great expense, and with a sacrifice of ease and comfort which ought to put our efieminate and luxurious young men to the blush. Under these circumslances, I became much interested in the statue which was to be awakened into life by his chisel. The Sculptor's residence was in a distant city from my own place of abode; and I did not visit his studio again for about three years. When I then called on him, the statue was completed; and a noble creation it was. The marble had been " fearfully and wonder- fully" wrought; it had become man; yes, the chisel of that young Sculptor had " breathed the breath of life into its nostrils !" What symmetry — what majesty — h(5\v finely polished! I felt a conscious awe as I stood, SUN-RISE PAPERS. 15 with my head uncovered, in the presence of that noble creation of genius. The statue was a figure of Benjamin Franklin; and as my mind ran bacli over its history, in connection with that of the illustrious Philosopher and immortal Patriot, whose thoughtful and benevolent cast of features it pos- sessed, I was more forcibly impressed than ever with the beauty and the truthfulness of the simile at the head of this paper. Franklin — at fifteen, a poor printer's-boy ; at fifty, a chainer of the lightning; at all times, an ardent, a perse- vering, and a self-denying student — was a sculptor in a higher sense than was the young man alluded to. The beautiful marble, upon which he wrought, was his own soul; tlie statue which he created, was his own intellectual and moral greatness; and what a statue! It will stand beside that of Newton, in the Temple of Fame, the admiration of all coming ages. There was an interesting circumstance connected with the production of the material statue, which should alike encourage such persons as are striving for an education, but have little time for study, and rebuke those who neglect the cultivation of their minds altogether on this accomit. The young Sculptor was still a i student, and, as has been already hinted, was in indigent circum- stances. He wrought out nearly the whole of that noble statue in half-hours which he snatched from his meals, and during evenings after his duties for the day with his master had been discharged. Think of that, young men in shops and stores ! What a beautiful statue can you create from the unpolished marble of your minds, if you will do likewise. Another reflection. The statue was only accomplished 16 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. by long and diligent toil. It did not leap from the marble with a single stroke of the chisel. The Sculptor spent upon it hundreds of weary hours, while most other young men of his own age were seeking pleasure in fashion- able amusements. The morning star often found him at his toil. Yet, think not to him that toil was irksome. It was the highest pleasure. He cheerfully performed the drudgery of bringing the block into its proper shape, at the commencement of his work; and who can tell the rapture of his feelings as he saw it assuming its form of majesty and beauty beneath the skillful strokes of his chisel. The application of this reflection to self-culture is sufficiently obvious. "SPORTS OF THE TURF." The " Sports of the Turf," are among the most cruel and demoralizing vices now in practice. It is well known that in some sections of our Union, they are very fash- ionable, and are not visited with the odium of public opinion. Having occasion to visit the capital of one of the southern counties of Ohio, in the autumn of 1844, I found the little village in a tremor of excitement ; the annual races of the county commencing the next day. The roads had been almost impassable from heavy rains, for some days past, but the hotels and stables were, never- theless, filled to overflowing, with jockeys and horses — I beg the horses' pardon — from tiie surrounding country. S U N-R ISEPAPERS. 17 And as I had never, in my simplicity, witnessed so refined and noble an exhibition as a horse-race, with whip and spur, I resolved to attend on tlie afternoon of the princi- pal race . The course was a mile-circle, upon a broad, clayey plain. I found a large concourse of spectators assembled, and impatiently waiting the commencement of the race. The purse was a hundred dollars ; the conditions of the race — the best in three heats, of three miles each. Only two competitors appeared to contest tlie race ; the one a fiery gray horse, that came rearing and plunging on to the course, with half a dozen men at his bits, and the other a bay mare, as kind and gentle as a lamb. Botli of them were lank as grey-hounds. The gray appeared to be the general favorite, and the bets were greatly in his favor. But for my own part, although I admired his fiery spirit, my sympathies were all with the mild and docile bay. The judges having directed the riders to mount, the drum beat, and the horses were off' with the speed of deer; the mare, whose eye lit up with lightning at the first tap, taking the lead — which she held through the first mile; during the second, however, her antagonist passed her, and came in about two rods ahead, at the end of the heat. The applause was enthusiastic from his friends. '• Hurrah for the gray ! hurrah for the gray ! Five to one on the gray!" shouted men and boys, running over the plain in every direction, with bank-bills in their hands. A great many bets were taken in this way, merely for the excitement of betting, I presume, as everybody, except her owner, seemed to have lost all confidence in the mare. She did not appear, however, to be so much worried as the horse, though the sweat poured from her 18 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. sides in torrents. Her owner asserted that she would run better now that she had got warm, and her stock began to rise among the jockeys before the commencement of the next heat. Fifteen minutes having elapsed, the horses were again brought on to the course, the gray rearing and plunging, and the bay kind and gentle as before. The drum again beat, and away they went a second time, like rockets, the mare again taking the lead. The prediction of her owner was fulfilled; she ran altogether better than upon the first heat. The horse made a tremendous effort to pass her during the second and third miles; but she came in in spite of him two or three rods ahead. Her stock was now fully on a par with that of her antagonist. It was now " Hurrah for tlie gray !" and " Hurrah for the bay !" all over the plain. The jockeys, who had bet '''jive to owe" on the gray, tried to throw up the stakes, but the other parties chose to abide the issue of the race. His owner foamed with rage and disappointment, having had so great a confidence in the superior speed of his horse, that he had expected that this heat would put an end to the contest. But there was now a chance of his being beat, and he raved like a madman. At the commencement of the third heat, the excite- ment became intense. The bay again took the lead. Both riders now spurred and whipped their noble anni- mals in desperation. The gray came up with his antag- onist during the first mile, and for some time it was neck and neck — hoof and hoof. The spectators were complete- ly borne away by excitement, and ran from one side of tlie course to the other, as the horses went round — "Hurrah! for the gray!''' — "Hurrah! for the hayV' SUN-RISE PAPERS. 19 " The gray will pass her! see him lay down to it ! Hurrah! for the grayT — "Hurrah! for the hay. It isn't in his power to pass her, by thunder ! I've seen that mare run before. Hurrah! for the hayP'' — "Go it, you cripples!" shouted an old Rummy, with but one leg, flourishing his crutch over his head — " Go it, you cripples, while your legs last!" The enthusiasm of the friends of the horse, however, soon began to cool down, as he was gradually losing ground, and it was evident that the mare would come in first — which she did, a few rods, amid thunders of applause — the rider of her antagonist being so overcome with rage and mortification, that he tumbled from his seat beneath his horse's feet. Both horses w^ere now in a pitiable condition, blood running from their strained and livid nostrils, as well as oozing from the spur-wounds in their sides, gasping for breath, the sweat pouring off from them in torrents, and tlieir eyes dim as death. I am not of the number of those who object to every species of public amusement. On the contrary, I think that tlie moral and intellectual progress of society demands days of general recreation and reunion. But against " amusements" of a cruel nature, or a pernicious influ- ence, it becomes every well-wisher of society to hurl his indignant rebuke : and the " Sports of tlie Turf," as al- ready intimated, are thoroughly obnoxious in both these respects. They are cruel. Think of the pitiable condition in which horses come out of races, and of the almost starv- mg state in which they are kept for months before a race; think also of the hundreds of fine animals which are yearly ruined upon the truf. Is it not the very height 20 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. of cruelty, to thus abuse so noble and useful an animal as the horse, merely for our ammement; an animal, which, in peace draws our carriages and bears our burdens, and in war pants for the fury of the battle, at the somid of the trumpet. Out upon the inhuman and cowardly practice of spuring him upon a race-course, till the blood flows from his sides and nostrils! The " Sports of the Turf are demoralizing. From their very nature they produce and cultivate the vice of betting. At the race of which I have spoken, there were probably not less than a thousand bets made ; boys putting up their shillings, as well as men their dollars. Gam- bling in other forms, and drinking, and fighting, follow, as a matter of course. Again : these " Sports" corrupt public morals on the same principle that do the Bull Fights of Spain; being like them, both barbarous and grovelling. Every thing upon a race-course is calculated to fill the mind with low and debasing emotions. The friends of the turf are challenged to point out a single bright feature in a turf scene, which thousands have assembled to witness, except the noble ambition that is often manifested by the horses to excel. Add to this the circumstance that an Exhibition upon a race-course is one of purely physical prov>^ess; and that this comparatively grovelling quality is thereby exalted in the public mind to the prejudice of the intellectual. We might justly expect that a people, who were greatly addicted to horse-racing, or to any other vice of a similar nature, would be pugil- istic in their habits as well as ignorant. They would be likely to have more admiration for a Milo than for a Homer. Such are the " Sports of the Turf;" and it is be- S U N-R ISEPAPERS. 21 lieved, that it is only necessary for the attention of a virtuous and humane community to be more earnestly directed to their character and tendency, in order to their receiving its universal and indignant frown. THE EAGLETS. The nest of the Golden Eagle, the most noble of the " Royal family" of birds, is always built upon an inaccessible shelf of some precipice or cliff, and is composed of a few naked sticks and brambles. Indeed, so scanty is the collection that the eggs may be often said to be deposited upon the naked rock. The habit which Eagles have of driving their young from their nest, as soon as they are fledged, is well known. Upon the thunder-beaten cliffs. Which on the barren mountains frown, The Eagles build their scanty nest, And scorn the luxury of down. They build their nest of naked sticks, And rear in poverty their young, And soon as fledged they drive them forth The breezes and the storms among. The dauntless Eaglets spread their wings. And strive, and tireless strive, to rise. By storms hurled back, by winds sped on. And range, at length, the upper skies. Proud, to the mansions of the Sun, They wing their bold and glorious flight ; — The little sparrow sees with awe, Their plumage bathed in ether bright. 22 s U N-R ISE PAPERS. And thus upon the naked rocks, And 'mid the barren wastes of life, Doth Glory rear her eagle sons. And give them to an early strife. She gives them to the breeze and storm, They rise — they fall — but struggle on; And strong at last, the world beholds Their dauntless soarings to the Sun. BALLOONS, AND BALLOONING. Reader, have you ever seen a balloon, and a balloon ascension ? I shall take it for granted that you have, and that you went into rhapsodies at the spectacle. What could be more beautiful than the great yellow, or striped, silk balloon, with its delicate net- work and willow car ? what more magnificent than to behold it swinging to and fro in its struggles to free itself from terra Jirma, and at lengtli going off to the clouds, shaking the sunbeams from its pinions, with the daring velocity of the eagle! Who wonders that the multitude hurrah — that the ladies wave tlieir white handkerchiefs — that even the quakers flourish tlieir broad-brimmed hats! Every body is delighted, ex- cept some crabbed old fellow or other, with horn-bowed spectacles, who stands apart, and soliloquizes : " The people are pleased, and are hurrahing with all their might. But their hurrahs are those of boys. The women are butterflies; the quakers are fools. That great shining balloon is full of gas; there is nothing in it but S U N-R ISEPAPERS. 23 "GA-s; it rises on account of its gas; and when its gas is expended it will come down again. Who of this whole shouting multitude will then hurrah! The fellow who has ■gone up in the balloon is a stark mad-man. He will get enough of gas and thin air before he gets down again. After he has been knocked about by the wiiids among the clouds for an hour or two, and is nearly frozen to death, he will be glad to let off' his gas, and wind up with a ducking in tiie ocean, or a tumble down some good lady's chimney. A fine figure he will then cut, dripping with water, or black with soot. A.s for the balloon itself — it's a humbug, a sheer humbug; and it will be flat enough as soon as the gas is out of it." Such talk as this, dear poetical reader, is outrageous, is it not? What a pity the old gentleman is a philoso- pher! The present, is an age of balloons and ballooning — of balloons figurative as well as of balloons literal — of great silk balloons and little paper balloons — of balloons of all colors and all sizes — of balloons in morals — bal- loons in politics — balloons in literature. The men and boys are all hurrahing, the quake rs flourishing their broad- brimmed hats, and the ladies waving their white hand- kerchiefs, as the balloons go up. And no wonder; for some of tliem are " beautiful exceedingly." Let us particularize one or two of the great silk ones. The most magnificent balloon of the age is the theory of Nonresistance. There is a million yards of the purest white silk in this gorgeous balloon. Its net-work is of golden threads and its wicker car of braided moonbeams. How it glitters in the sun ! The quakers having inflated this balloon, are now shouting to Brother Jonathan to cut '^4 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. the cords which confine it to the eartli, and jump into the frail car with tliem. Jonathan, ahhough he looks on with an admiring eye, has a "notion "that he had better stay where he is; and so friend Humphrey expostulates with him : " What ! art thou afraid of the few black clouds in the sky ? I am sure, friend, that they will all melt away in the effulgence of our balloon. Thy fears are groundless. The great vault of heaven will be filled with sunshine and meek blue ether. Come into the car, friend Jonathan. Thy example will have an influence upon thy older brother, John, whom they surname. Bull." But Jonathan, with a smile upon his lip, still declines ; and lest his refusal should be attributed to an undue fear of the thunder-clouds, or to an indifference to the beauty of the ether, from a lack of the poetical, rather than to his philosophy, I shall here record the opinion of the gentle- man witli tlie horn-bowed spectacles in reference to the white balloon : " The white balloon is beautiful — splendid — but it is full of GAS. And what folly to think that the black scowling thunder-clouds would be melted by the sunbeams which would be reflected from its surface. The ' Storm King' wouldn't want a finer target for his artillery than this same white balloon. The sky has ever been dark- ened with storms, and, until there is a radical change in the whole philosophy of nature, it ever will be. It would, therefore, be insane folly to go up in the white balloon ; though it will do tlie hearts of men good to look upon it so long as it is confined to the earth. The quakers mean right; but they are not philosophers. They have the harm- lessness of doves, without the wisdom of serpents." Another splendid balloon is the scheme of Socialisnir or Fourieri&ni, as it is more popularly called. This is a STJN-RISE PAPERS. 25 striped silk balloon — the stripes red and yellow — the most poetical of all balloons. I would go a thousand miles to touch the hem of the man's garment, who sewed it together. The moral diseases, we are told, which have so long afflicted the world, and which are far more fright- ful than the spotted Plague, or the Cholera with his blood-shot eyes, are all entirely and unqualifiedly the result of a pestilential atmosphere. In other words, all our evils, moral, social, and political, arise from a false organ- ization of Society. And it is proposed to get out of this noxious atmosphere by going up in the balloon of Social- ism. When we are once away from terra Jirma our cheeks will kindle with health, and our eyes sparkle with delight, in the pure blue ether. We shall sail about in the wicker car, reposing and dreaming among the white glittering clouds. How delightful the thought, particularly in dog-days ! But the gentleman with the horn-bowed spectacles, whom we must respect for his wisdom, tliougli we hate him for his scowling face, insists that the striped balloon is as full of gas as the white one. He farther- more saith that the constitution of man is that of a ter- restial, and not of a celestial, being — ^he having so great a weight of mortality ; and that all the enthusiastic and poetical aeronauts who have gone up in the striped bal- loons — and they have been ever going up since the time of Babel — have been unable to remain aloft; and have got a ducking among the sharks, or a tumble down a chimney, in the end. It appears, therefore, on the wliole that there will be more wisdom in our remaining content with terra jirma, doing what we can to fill up the bogs which exhale miasmas^ and planting beds of flowers m their place. 3 t 26 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. Ill addition to these balloons, are others of smaller size, both in morals and in politics, too numerous to mention. In the literary world, the sky is literally clouded with balloons — paper balloons, mostly. It is astonishing where all the colored paper and the gas come from, which are used in the manufacture of the balloons, which go up in the form of the ephemeral productions of the present day ; in other words, in the poetry and tales of the maga- zines, and in the novels and noveletts of popular writers. Red paper, blown up with gas — yellow paper, blown up with gas; but the reader, I fear, will say that I am satirizing the article on " Balloons, and Ballooning" itself, and which is certainly very far from my intention. We will let our friend, the crabbed gentleman, mor- alize a bit, in conclusion : " All this Ballooning does more honor to the hearts of tiie people than to their heads. The men and women are all blowing up soap bubbles in the sun like children. This is a delightful occupation no doubt; but is it a fit- ting one for men and women 1 Will it hew down the forests, and rear up the yellow harvests 1 Will it make the 'wilderness' of human life, in which howl the wild beasts of Appetite and Crime, and hoot the blind owls of Superstition and Prejudice, to ' blossom like the rose' and ring with tlie melody of song-birds ? Will it carve out the new-heavens and the new-earth? Will it accom- plish the great object of life ? Shame on the men and women, then, for thus behaving like children. Let them throw aside their balloons, and take— the plough and the needle !" S U X-R ISEPAPERS. 21 A DAY ON LAKE ERIE. Upon a bright morning in July, I found myself at Buftalo, on board one of the noble Steamboats which ply upon Lake Erie, bound for Cleveland. Our boat expe- rienced no little difficulty in getting out of the harbor, from the j.a.m of steam and sail vessels and canal boats with which it was filled; and all of which were discharg- ing, or receiving, avalanches of the rich merchandise of the East, or of the richer products of the West. Having got out, however, in the course of half an hour, the great wheels of cur boat commenced their revolutions, and a thousand sea-horses, harnessed in her van, could not have borne her over the shining waters with more speed and majesty. " What a delicious breeze !" exclaimed every one, as the pure cool wind came to us across the broad bosom of the Lake. Every cheek kindled in its freshness, and every heart thanked God for the blessing. Buffalo presents a very beautiful appearance from the Lake; and as we looked back from the hurricane deck upon its glittering domes, and the roar of its commerce came out upon our ears, our mind naturally reverted to the rapidity of its growth. It is but little more than a quarter of a century since the spot where this city stands, and indeed nearly the whole extent of the shore of Lake Erie, was a barren wilderness. But the hardy spirit of American enterprise has thus soon converted this scene of barbarity and desolation into one of civilization and beauty. The glowing lines of Campbell, extravagant as they were prob- ably regarded at the time they were written, have been realized in spirit beyond the wildest dreams of his own imagination : ■^8 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. "On Erie's banks, where tigers steal along, And the dread Indian chants a dismal song, Where liuman fiends on midnight errands walk, And batiie in brains the murderous tomahawk..; There shall the flocks on thimy pastures stray, And shepherds dance at Summer's opening day; Eat-h wondering genius of the lonely glen Shall start to view the glittering liaunts of men; And Silence watch on woodland heights around, The village curfew, as it tolls profound," The present population of ButTalo is not far from thirty thousand. The place, it will be remembered, has entirely grown up since the year 1816, when it was laid in ashes, witli the exception of a single house, by a detachment of British troops, which crossed the Niagara river at Black Rock, three miles below, in retaliation for some devasta- tions of tlie American army on the Canadian frontier. The city is handsomely laid out, and several of its streets, from the number of shade trees which have been planted in front of the neat dwellings on either side, present in the summer an appearance of great rural beauty and taste. Main Street, the principal avenue of business, is one of the noblest streets in tlie Union, being imusually wide, and extending with a gradual ascent from the harbor back in a direct line for tlie distance of about two miles. Several blocks of stores along this street have lime-stone fronts, and are of imposing size. Buffalo is indebted for them, as well as for many other of its best buildings, to tlie enterprise of Benjamin Rathbun, who has figured so conspicuously in the history of tliis city. The principal Hotels are among the largest and best conducted establish- jnents of the kind in the Union. The " Queen City of tlie Lakes," as tlie good people S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 29 'of Buffalo delight to call their beautiful city, is not more celebrated for the importance of its situation and the extent of its commerce, than for its heavy and destructive gales of wind. It is one of the roughest places m the world. The terrific gale of December 1844, which was accompanied by such an appalling destruction of human life, will long be remembered. Chimneys and houses in all directions were blown down; large frame buildings lifted from their foundations; steam and canal boats torn from their moorings and dashed in pieces ; and the whole lower part of the city was completely submerged with water, from the fury of the gale. As we came out of the harbor, I noticed a number of men still engaged in repairing the stone pier, which, from its thickness, would have bid defi- ance to the battering rams of antiquity, but was unable to stand the mighty charge of the billows. Rocks were torn from it three or four tons in weight. A "Buffalo zephyr,"" is no joke. The delightful breezes, however, which the people of this city enjoy from the Lake, during the Summer months, are some compensation for the heavy gales with which they are visited at other seasons of the year. Per- sons, it may be added, who are in any degree predisposed to pulmonary complaints, should never think of Buffalo as a place of residence, as the winds coming from so large a body of fresh water, are extremely trying to the lungs; a remark which is also applicable to a greater or less extent to the whole Lake region. The business of Buffalo is well known to be chiefly commercial. Situated at the lower extremity of the great chain of western Lakes, and at the head of that noble monument of the genius of De Witt Clinton, the Erie Canal, this city is the wide gateway through which passes 30 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. and pays toll nearly all the travel, the produce, and the mer chandise of the Eastern and Western sections of the Union. north of the Ohio river. It is doubtless destined, from its favorable situation, to become at some future day one of the largest cities in the Union; and is at present grow- ing very rapidly, having arisen with fresh energy from the paralysis of the speculations of 1837. While the Lake is in a navigable condition, its streets present a scene of the greatest activity. The rattling of drays, the puffing of steamboats, the creaking of cordage, and the crash of martial music on the leviathan steamers as they arrive or take their departure, all combine to send up an incessant peal of glorious thunder. In the winter, navigation being suspended, but little business is transacted; and the good ^jeople spend their time in parties of pleasure, or improve it by their own firesides in the noble duty of self-culture, as their tastes may lead them. A trip up Lake Erie, on a bright summer day, is- delightful. On your left is a long bank of the richest verdure, composed of mingled grass and foliage ; and on your right an unbounded expanse of water, not unlike the ocean. Over your head is a sky as softly blue as that of Italy, and there is another of equal loveliness in the bosom of the shining waters beneath your feet. You seem to be in the centre of a vast concave of Paradise. The wheels of our steamboat, at every revolution, struck from the Lake into the sunshine thousands of what a miser would contemptuously term bubbles, but what a poet would indignantly persist in calling diamonds — dia- monds of the purest water. Add to this some eight or ten sail-vessels in sight, with their great white wings outspread upon the breeze, and the noble steamboat In- SUN-RISE PAPERS. 31 diana — one of the finest steamboats in the world — trailing the sky with smoke, as she rushed on her passage for Chicago, nearly through the centre of the Lake, at a distance of ten or twelve miles from our own. In passing Silver Creek, the scene of the fearful burn- ing of the steamboat Erie was pointed out to us — a calam- ity the thought of which still blanches the cheek. Who can paint the terrors of that awful night! the boat in flames amid the wild waters, with three hundred human souls on board — the sky and the Lake lit up with the terrific glare — the noble helmsman standing at his post enveloped in flames — the man upon the top of the gallows- frame with the fire rolling and roaring below and spouting up all around him — the agonizing cries of the sufferers in the water ! May God in his mercy grant that our coun- try may never be called upon to weep over such another awful calamity. I had but a few days before visited the grave-yard, in Buffalo, in which the bodies that were recovered had been interred. The grass had become green upon the graves ; but when will the wounded hearts of thousands, which were pierced by that dreadful calamity, be healed. A large number of the sufferers, it will be remembered, were emigrants ; and I noticed in the yard several Ger- man women kneeling by the graves with their crucifix. The scene was one at which a manly cheek might not blush to be dewed with a tear of sympathy, as well as one of the highest moral beauty. They had been left widows in a strange land. The large and flourishing village of Erie is situated in Pennsylvania, ninety miles above Buflfalo. As our boat made a stop of an hour or two at this village, I took a 32 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. ramble on shore. The population of this village is about three thousand There is a spacious square in the centre of the town, which, with proper cultivation, would become a great ornament to the place. The bank upon which the village stands is about two hundred feet, I should judge, above the level of the lake. Many of the stores and dwellings are built of brick, and there are several edifices, which from their size and architecture, would be highly creditable to our seaboard cities. Among these, the most conspicuous are the U. S. Branch Bank, and the Reed House, The former is built of a beautiful white marble, and cost upwards of one hundred thousand dollars. There are two large foundries at Erie, the most ex- tensive of which has in constant employment about two hundred men. It has a blast furnace, yielding some eight hundred tons of soft grey iron per annum, the ore of which is found in the vicinity. The company also use from one hundred and fifty to two Imndred tons of harder metal obtained from the interior of Pennsylvania. The other furnace employs about forty men, and uses upwards of five hundred tons of iron per annum. It has also a large and excellent lathe for manufacturing machinery. The steam frigate Michigan — the only vessel of war of any note upon the upper Lakes — was lying in the harbor at Erie. She is a fine-looking craft, evidently mod- died both wnth a view to speed and durability. She is about five hundred tons burden. Her length is one hun- dred and fifty-six feet keel, and one hundred and sixty- seven and a half on deck: width, twenty-seven feet; depth of hole, twelve feet. Her engine is one hundred and sixty horse power. She is pierced for ten guns, but mounts at present only six — four twenty-two and two sixty- S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 33 eight pounders. Her complement of men is one hundred and twenty-five. The Iron of which she is constructed: is three eighths of an inch thick. It is not supposed, of course, tliat this will stand a cannon shot: neither will the sides of an ordinary frigate. But an iron vessel has the advantage in action, over one constructed of wood, that there are no splinters from the effects of the shots; whicli usually do more damage than the shots themselves. Gen. Wayne, who died in 1796, while returning from the scene of his brilliant victory in the West, which he had affain visited, on duties connected with his office as sole Commissioner for treating with the North-Western In- dians, was originally buried, it will be remembered, at Erie; and it was with feelings of gratitude and pride, that I visited the spot — near the log-house fort, a short distance below the village — where his ashes were deposited. There is not a true American heart in the land that does not cherish with reverence and admiration the memory of " mad Anthony Wayne.*' His celebrated assault upon Stony Point was one of the most brilliant victories of tlie Revolutionary war; and in point of impetuous and daring courage, proves him to be entitled to rank with the Hero of Lodi. In this assault, Wayne was struck on the head with a musket ball, and fell; but immediately rising upon one knee, he heroically exclaimed, " March on, carry me into the Fort ; for, should the wound prove mortal, I will die at the head of the column." His victory over the Miami and Wabash Indians, in 1794, reflected the highest lustre upon his courage and skill as a General, and was productive of the most important advantages to the country; not only putting an end to a bloody and brutal war, but throwing open the fine region of the West to a civilized 4 34 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. population, and restoring the confidence of t]ie people at home, in the Executive branch of the Government, which had been very much shaken by the disastrous issue of two previous campaigns against these Indians. His remains, which were temporarily buiied' at Erie, were removed by his son, in 1809, to the csmetry of St. David's church, Chester county Pennsylvania, where a monument was raised to his memory, by his comrades of the Revolution. A little incident, which occurred during his expedition against the tribes of Indians mentioned above, as it is char- acteristic of Wayne, and furnishes a beautiful scene of the triumph of female sympathy, may not be unworthy of relating. Two or tju'ee soldiers had been sentenced to suffer death for desertion; the troops were paraded to witness punishment; tlie unhappy men were already kneeling in their grave clothes by their coffins, and the file of soldiers which had been selected for their execution were await- ing the signal to fire, when the wife of one the staff officers — a lady of great beauty and accomplishments — appeared, to intercede for their pardon. "You surely will pardon the men, General; you will not execute them?" " Away, woman — away! you have no business here." '"Spare their lives, I beseech you — spare their lives;" and throwing herself upon her knees before the stern and passionate soldier, she did not cease her importunities, until her tears had prevailed upon him to grant her petition. "I pardon the men," said Wayne; "but," he contin- ued, with his usual bluntness, " don't you ever let me see you here again, madam; the field is no place for a woman." The poor fellows whose lives were thus saved through S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 35 t\ie iiitercession of the lady, afterwards showed their grat- itude by exemplary conduct and bravery through the cam- paign. One of the most magnificent spectacles that I have ever seen is a sunset, on a clear day, upon one of the great western Lakes. I doubt if an ocean sunset is more gorge- ous. The whole surface of the Lake in the west, glows and burns in the rays of the descending orb, while the clouds above, have the appearance of being all in flames. Afar in the distance, perhaps, will be seen a vessel with her sails flapping in the breeze, and glowing like sheets of fire. "Beautiful! magnificent! if tJiis is earth, what must heaven be!" are the exclamations which involuntarily hurst from the lips of the enraptured beholder. A most beautiful optical illusion adds not a little to the enchantment of the scene. Gazing steadily upon the sun, a few moments, such an impression of its form is made upon the retina of the eye, that the whole surface of the w^ater, looking towards the west, appears to be covered with blue globules, going up and fading, singly and in clusters. But if sunset is beautiful, evening, with her million of soft, loving eyes, gazing down into the waters, which with an equal number return the gaze, while they shine like silver in the moonlight, is still more so. I walked the hur- ricane deck, admiring the scene, until long after the voice of revelry in the cabin was hushed. About 12 o'clock the sky became overcast with clouds, indicating an approaching storm. The moon and the stars were all extinguished, and the vast vault of heaven was filled with black darkness. How sublime ! how man feels his nothingness at such a time ! Our boat, as she plunged 36 SU^-RISE PAPERS. and bellowed on her way through the darkness, spouting ?!moke and flame, reminded me of the flight of Milton's Satan through chaos. I went down below, at length, and "turned in;" and in the morning at six o'clock, I found myself lying at the wharf of the beautiful city of Cleveland; our boat seem- ingly panting from her long journey, as she blew out the steam from her fiery lungs. ANECDOTE OF DRESS. Several years since I had occasion to visit the Navy Yard, at Charlestown, Mass., of which Com. Elliott was then Commandant. Having obtained permission from the crabbed old gentleman at the gate to pass the sentry, 1 rambled round the yard, gazing, with the admiration of •' a young man from the country," upon the mighty ships of war — Neptune's sons of thunder — and wondering at the huge stacks of balls and the long parks of cannon. But the principal object of my visit was to procure, for ;i cane, a piece of the almighty oak of " Old Ironsides;" this noble ship being then undergoing a rC'Construction in the beautiful dry-dock, in this yard. And having ob- tained, after considerable difliculty, a splinter from one of her huge ribs — which, by tlie way, proved as suitable for the manufacture of a handsome cane, as did that of Adam for a beautiful woman— it was necessary to call on the Commodore, in order to get " a pass," to carry it l^y the aforesaid crabbed old gentleman at the gate,, STJN-RISE PAPERSc 37 As I approached the office, with palpitating heart, my untaught imagination was busy in painting the personal appearance of a Commodore in the American Navy — the commander of a fleet of the mighty ships I saw around me. I expected to find the Commandant of the yard a very consequential looking and consequential feeling gentleman, in a splendid naval uniform. Such was the idea I had formed of one of the plainest and most re- nowned men in the American Navy; and all because he was a Commodore. Upon inquiring for the Commodore, at his office, I was informed that he was taking a stroll round the yard, but would be back presently. The cool fresh breeze was sweeping in from the ocean, and I took my seat at a window, which commanded a full view of one of the most beautiful harbors in the world, to await his return — a harbor from whose forest of masts, the flags of nearly every nation on the globe were waving upon the breeze There, glittering in the same sun of peace, was the " meteor' of England, the " tri-colored flag^' of France, tlie " two eagles" of Russia, the red and yellow ensign of Spain ; and the flag whose stars and stripes were " torn" from the diamond-studded robes of night and the crimson drapery of morning. While I was looking out upon this beautiful and stirring spectacle — the glory of the nineteenth century — I saw an officer approaching, who, I thought, was dressed quite gorgeously enough to be a Commodore ; and who had, withal, such a pomposity in his stride, that he must be conscious that Fame ever went before him, proclaiming to the world through her silver trumpet, " This man shares with the immortal Perry the laurels of the victory upon 4 t 38 S U N-R ISE PAPER Sv Lake Erie ! Let the earth grow greener before his foot- steps!" But, much to my disappointment, this mighty personage proved to be a Lieutenant of Marines! He was presently followed, however, by a corpulent old gentleman, in a threadbare naval coat, minus half its anchor-buttons, and who proved to be the Commodore. He readily gave me permission to take from the yard the piece of wood which I desired ; and this little incident, Simple as it may seem, taught me, thus early in life, a moral, the truth of which has often been proved by sub- sequent observation : — Never form an opinion of strangers from the fashion of their coat. Persons, who are conscious of possessing qualities which must secure to them the respect of the community, are not usually over and above fastidcous about their dress. It is left for those to strut the fop, who owe the contemptible admiration which is bestowed upoir them by children and fools, to the brilliancy of their ])lumage. THE WOLVES. The grizzly wolves of Famine liowl^ Incessantly, for human blood; And in the winter snows they prowl, Outflocking from the gloomy wood. At midnight, when the bitter North, Upon the hamlet pours its hail. They gather round the hut of sloth. And fierce the shattered door assail. SUN-RISE PAPERS. 39 Tlie wakened father sees their eyes Glare on his children through the door; To keep them out too late he tries — Tliey slake their thirst in human gore I By her cold hearth the widow hears Their famished yell amid the night; And, bowing o'er her babes in tears, She prays for morning's blessed light. The horrid wolves! their mouths all red With blood that flowed in human veins'. By Death upon his pale horse led. They scour for prey the frozen plains! The thousand wolves! when Tempest blows Howl louder than his fiends that pack; God pity him who, chilled mid snows, Shall hear them yelling on his track! SONGc Sighs my heart, and sigheth ever, For a star of blessed lig'ht. As my bark adown life's river. Glides amid the lonely night. Deep around me darkness lying, Float I cheerless down the stream, Sighing, sighing, ever sighing, For the star of holy beam. When my star the night shall sever. Beaming on my gladdened eyes. Then shall glow with light the river. Shine with glory all the skies. 40 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. Then my bark shall glide with singing, In the never-fading beam; All the green hills round it ringing, Down the silver-glowing stream. OUR NAVAL VICTORIES IN THE LAST WAR. The splendid achievements of our little Navy in the last war with England, covered the country with a blaze of unfading glory, and gave to this branch of the service the first place in the hearts of the people. The victories which it won were as unexpected as they were brilliant — as humiliating to England, as they were glorious to the Republican Union. But it strikes me, nevertheless, as being a great error, to attribute the advantage which our ships almost invariably gained over those of the enemy, to any essential superiority on the part of our sailors ; there is certainly no proof that such a superiority existed. Braver men, or better seamen, never trod the deck of a ship, than were then, and are now, to be found in the British navy. John Bull has a fiery eye, and a big curly neck, and he knows nothing of fear. Whoever shakes the red cloak at him, though his spear be as long as that of Goliath, must look out for his iron horns. Our success was probably owing, in a large measure, to attendant cir- cumstances, many of which were decidedly in our favor. In the first place, the cause of the war, on the part of the English — to perpetuate the abominable system of impressment, which they had so extensively practiced — was calculated to dampen the ardor of their sailors in its SUN-RISE PAPERS. 41 prosecution. They were fighting to sustain one of the most cruel and accursed usurpations over human rights, which unprincipled ambition ever dictated to a tyrant — a usurpation, too, the evil of which was confined chiefly to their own profession, and whose iron hoof many of them had felt upon their own breasts. It would be a libel upon human nature to assert that they could have gone into battle, under these circumstances, with as much ardor as American sailors, who were fighting against this abominable usurpation, and for the freedom of the seas. Again : The English went into battle, particularly at the beginning of the war, confident of victory. They had never found their match upon the ocean, and they supposed themselves invincible in a naval conflict. It was their boast that one of their frigates was more than a match for two ships of equal size, of any other nation. This confidence in their superiority was not calculated, to say the least of it, to make them more wary and energetic, in the commencement of an engagement — while the Ameri- cans went into action with greater caution and vigor, from a knowledge of the bravery and skill of the foe with whom they had to contend. Lastly: The discipline on board our ships was probably better. The confidence of the English in their superiority had made them somewhat negligent in this matter, while the highest discipline, from opposite considerations, was attained on board of our ships. In the battle between the Constitution and the Guerriere, so rapidly did " Old Ironsides" pay over her Decatur's tribute, from the supe- rior enthusiasm and discipline of her crew, that she was enveloped in a complete sheet of flame, and her enemy often took her to be on fire. 42 S U rs-E ISE PAPERS. This acknowledgment of the bravery of British sailors, is due to candor; and does not detract one particle from the brilliancy of our naval achievements, but rather adds to it additional lustre; for the braver the foe, the more glorious the victory. If we should ever meet the English again in conflict upon the ocean, it might be under cir- cumstances of greater equality; though so long as their ships bear a flag which waves over a down-trodden and starving population, and ours continues to be what it now is, the " Flag of the free-hearfs only home,'' we must ever possess an advantage over them, which, I with equal armament and seamanship, cannot fail to give us the victory in seven cases out of ten. William Wal- lace, whose claymore did such execution upon the ranks of tyranny, was a feeeman. THE VILLAGE PREACHER. THE CRUCIFIXIOxN. The Crucifixion presented the most awful, the most terrific scene, that has ever been enacted, either upon earth, in heaven, or in hell; or that ever will be enacted, till the coming of the day of God's wrath, when the hea- vens shall be wrapped together as a scroll, and the wicked shall call upon the rocks and the mountains to fall upon them, and hide them from the face of Him whom they Jiave buffeted and pierced. All other scenes, indeed, SUN-RISE PAPERS. 43 recorded either in sacred or profane history, or that have 9ver entered into the imaginations of men, sink into in- significance, when compared with the blasphemy and the terror of Calvary. The Son of God ! w]io was equal with the Father, md before whom angels bowed and seraphims veiled their faces — the Son of God! who, when man had brought upon himself the curse of the law, and there was no eye to pity and no arm to save, in the lustre of his amazing compassion, left the courts of his exaltation, came into the world, and became flesh, that he might open a way of salvation, by the ignominious death of the cross — the Son DF God ! who had spent the years of his sojourn in the world in poverty and self-denial, in meekness and humility, in preaching his gospel from city to city, and village to I'illage, in comforting the afflicted and in healing the sick — the Son of God ! with all the effulgence of his Divine nature and of his Divine life beaming around his bead, betrayed into the hands of sinners, forsaken by his disciples, condemned and scourged by Pilate, clothed in a purple robe in derision, beaten vv^ith reeds, and buffeted, and mocked, and spit upon by those whom he had con- ducted from the bondage of Egypt through the sea, and over whose hardness of heart he had wept upon JVIt. Olivet — was led away in the agony of his soul to die the shame- ful death of a malefactor ! With sorrowful hearts and ashes upon our heads, let us stand upon Golgotha, afar olT from the crucifying and scoffing mob, with Mary and the rest of the weeping little group, who had followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering to his wants, and behold in the awful scene the depth of the riches of the love of God, tho depravity of the human 44 S U N-R I S E PAPERS* heart, and the price of anguish witli which we Iiave been purchased. It is about the third hour — about nine oVlock in the morning — and a great multitude, thirsting for the innocent blood, and composed of all ages and conditions, is ascend- ing the hill of Calvary. The meek and lowly Jesus, who has been found guiltless of any fault, is fainting beneath the weight of his cross amid butietings and revilings, yet he utters not a word in reproach, for " He was led like a sheep to the slaughter; and like a lamb dumb before its shearers, so he opened not his mouth." A few minutes later — and the ferocious soldiers have driven the ragged spikes through his hands and his feet, and he hangs ex- tended upon the accursed tree between the two thieves, the one on his right hand and the other on his left. The crown of thornes is upon his head, and the bloody sweat has again gathered upon his brow. His heavenly face, which has ever beamed with compassion upon suffering, is rent with unutterable anguish. He is left to tread the wine-press alone ; his disciples have all forsaken him ; even Peter, so resolute and confident a few hours ago. has denied him thrice ; and John, who leaned upon his master's bosom at supper, stands afar off, weeping. The Father has withdrawn from him the light of his counte- nance ; God spares not his own Son ; and amid the dark- ness which enshrouds the heavens, roll and crash the thunders of the broken law, and pierce his spirit with all the iiery pains of the damned. The cup of bitterness that is at his lips, the taste of which gave him such agony in Gethsemane, and which he must drain to the dregs, has been dipped from the wormwood caldrons of hell. The eartli, penetrated by the awful sufterings of her incarnate S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 45 Creator, quakes to her centre — the rocks burst in pieces — the dead awake from their slumbers, and come out of their graves! The congregated angels, gazing down in amazement over the battlements of heaven, as they behold the agonies of him at whose feet they have so often cast their crowns, bow their heads upon their bosoms, and weep. The congregated devils, scowling out through the sulpherous caverns of the pit, and supposing that the last hope of man will be destroyed in the death of the "second Adam," arc impatiently waiting for him to ex- pire,* that they may send up an infernal shout of triumph, which shall echo upon the ears of the weeping angels. But there is a scene of blasphemy around the cross itself which was never surpassed in the pit. The soldiers, in their accursed avarice, with the sun darkened over their heads, \vith all Nature trembling around them, and the risen dead looking upon them in their shrouds from the surround- ing hills, are casting lots for the raiment of the Son of God ! the priests and the pharisees, wearing the robes of religion and the philacteries of piety, are reviling him and bending unto him the knee in mockery. Even the theives, that are crucified with him, forget their own suf- ferings, in the depravity of human nature, and unite in the derisions. He says, " I thirst," and a sponge dipped in vinegar and gall is held to his lips ! In the midst of this awful suffering and this terrific insult, Jesus lifis up his eyes to heaven. Is it to command the twelve leg-ons of angels, who await his word upon yonder cloud, to unsheath their swords upon that infuriated and remorseless mob? Is it to command the crater of hell to be again blown opan, and the lava-tempests of lire * Christmas Evans. 5 46 s u N-R I s E r A p p: R s. and brimstone, which overwhelmed the cities of the plain* to be now hurled upon God-insulting and God-crucifying Jerusalem? Is it to command the Bow of Promise to be blotted from the sky, and the torrents of the deluge to be again let locse upon a world, which, from the manger in the stable to the cross upon Golgotha, has persecuted him. and cried, " Crucify him, crucify him — though he be innocent, yet he shall die ?" Is it to direct the angel to descend with his trump, and swear by Him that liveth forever and ever, that time shall be no longer? Christian ! approach, that you may learn from the example of your Master, how to suffer, how to forgive, how to die. Sinner! draw near, that your heart of stone may be made flesh — that you may no longer be ashamed to take up the cross. Behold that heavenly face, convulsed with agony, yet beaming with love and compassion ! listen to that musical voice, choked with suffering, yet silvery with the accents of prayer : " Father, forgive them, for tJiey know not what they doy O, what a petition ! the eyes of Gabriel himself were dazzled by its divine moral lustre. Put otf the shoes from off your feet, ye blaspheming priests and pharisees ! the spot whereon ye stand is holy ground ! the burning bush is before you ! tlieawful schechinah beams over the mercy seat of the ignominious cross ! the efful- gence of heaven is upon the place of skulls ! God, in the beginning, said. Let there be light : and dropped a jewel from his scepter for a sun : — the sky smiled w^ith its azure blue — the white clouds, the chariots of the angels, glittered upon its surface — the hills were clothed with verdure — the groves were decorated with blossoms and rang with song — the crystal waters mirrored the love- liness of the earth and the sky — there was light! The SUN-RISE PAPERS. 47 same voice said amid the deeper darkness of Calvary, '''Father forgive them''' — and the ignominious cross, and the black heavens and the black earth, were baptized in a moral glory brighter than the lustre of all the suns which illuminate the universe. Satan and his exulting hosts turned pale with terror in its effulgence, and fled into blacker darkness. The angels caught it upon their flash- ing wings, and reflected it back over all the golden domes and the golden palaces of the New Jerusalem; and as those domes and those palaces kindled with a more in- tense brightness in its radiance, a voice broke from the cloud which veils tlie throne of the Eternal, again pro- claiming, " This is my beloved Son, in ichofn I am loell pleased^ The little church, weeping afar off on Calvary, were comforted, and confirmed in their faith. The dying thief doubted and reviled no longer, but turning his peni- tent eyes upon his crucified Redeemer, he cried, " Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." Infi- del ! can you longer revile 1 Can you longer doubt the existence of a God ! — a God in the person of him who uttered that petition 1 Arian ! can you longer deny the Divine nature of Christ? '''Father, forgive themP'' Neither man, nor prophet, nor angel, could have offered up such a prayer for his scoffing enemies in the midst of such suf- fering and such abuse. God is love: Christ was love; and as he spoke as never man spoke, so he died as never man died. God was in his teachings — God was in his miracles — God was in his life — God was in his death. "Jesus, when he had received the vinegar, he said, It is finished; and he bowed his head and gave up the ghost."" Over these dying words of our Redeemer, let saints and S-Bgels shout their hallelujahs! It is finished! the scene 48 S U N-R I S E PAPERS. of awful suffering and blasphemy is over — the law is satisfied — death is swallowed up in victory ! It is finished I the atonement, the atonement is made ! the Son of God has died for man ! And he shall sec of the travail of his soul and be satisfied; for the heathen shall be given to him for an inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession ! ANGELS. Ere the Son of God, Christ Jesus, Entered on his mission vast. Up he went into the desert, There to weep, and pray, and fast. Forty days he prayed and fasted, Forty nights he sadly wept; And it came to pass he hungered, When the time of fast was kept. Then the Tempter came to tempt him. And in artful words he said, "If thou be the Christ, why hunger? Change these desert stones to bread!'' Jesus looked upon him sternly, Satan trembled at his frown; "It is written," quotli the Saviour, "God shall send his manna down. "Get behind me, daring Tempter! — He who lives by bread alone. Ne'er shall taste the marriage supper. Spread beside my Father's throne.'"' S U N-R I S E TAPER S. Satan, when the man, Christ Jesus, Thus he 'd tempted sore in vain, Back in rage returned to darkness, There to gnaw his burning chain. On the desert stood the Saviour, Tears fast flowing from his eyes, When, behold! above and round him, Shone the glory of the skies. Angels came on shining pinions From the realms of endless day — Came to bring ihe promised manna, And to wipe his tears away. O, liow bright their smiling faces. And their heavenly songs how sweet, As tliey cast their crowns immortal "At the lowly Saviour's feet! And again; when in the garden — Calv'rv's thunders rolling loud — 'Neath the awful weight of anguish, Jesus' fainting spirit bowed; — When the bloody sweat did gather. As he knelt alone in prayer, Down from heaven there came an Angei, And again; when all was over — Jesus scourged and crucified — When the earth had ceased to tremble. Heaven to weep, and hell deride ; O'er the body, wrapped by Joseph With the many spices sweet. Came and watched two mighty Angels, Weeping by the pierced feet, 5t 49 50 S U N-K ISE PAPERS. On the third day rose they early — Rose upon God's holy day — And in triumph, 'mid earth's quakings. Rolled the heavy stone away. Thus, O thus, around our pathway, Hover Angels smiling bright. When through strength by Jesus given, Tread we down tlie hosts of Night. And they feed our souls with manna^ And they wipe away our tears; And they whisper in the darkness, "As your strength shall be your years. And we know the mighty Watchers, At our risen Saviour's tomb, Down will go with us through Jordan, And escort our spirits home. CLOUDS. There are star-gazers and moon-gazers, and the proud bird of Freedom is a sun-gazer; but, for my own part, 1 have ahvays had a passion for tJie clouds. In their different aspects they present more of beauty and magnificence thaji even the shining and hymning choirs of the constella- tions. Look up at the clouds on a bright day in June ! More magnificent tlian the giant Alps in their mantles of snow^ are those great white piles that tower, peak over peak, in the West. The ocean, the lakes, and the cataracti> S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 51 were their sires. And those beautiful little cloudlets too, born of the dew of roses! — the winsjs of the anfjels are not more beautiful. How they sing as they float along in the sunbeams amid the heaven of blue ether! How tlie birds sing whilst they see them! And then, if you wish for a contrast, look up at the clouds upon some night, when they scowl with tempests, and have extinguished the stars, except here and there one, which still mildly shines amid the darkness, like the spirits of the good and the great, in an age of tumult and superstition. Driven by the wind, how angrily they rush across the scarcely perceptible disc of the moon. How sublime — how " wildly beautiful!" Anon comes a mighty rent in the black mass, like those which have been made in the rocks by earthquakes, and then how gloriously the Queen of Night pours down her beams, for a moment, over tlie jagged precipices, in a cataract of silver! Talk not of Niagara !■ — whoever has seen a cataract of light amid the black clouds, has seen a sublimer, a more beautiful, than Niagara! The clouds at sunrise or sunset !— away with your panoramas of burning mountains and of cities in conflagra- tion ! Here is a sky in flames! here are a thousand char- iots of fire, like that which bore the prophet from Mount Carmel to heaven ! To behold such a spectacle but for once, would be worth a lifetime of poverty and toil; and yet, although it may be freely seen every day, how many are there who never lift up their eyes from the clod to gaze upon it. When the sun rises, they continue to slum- ber, as if they would not " have enough of that in their graves!" when it sets, their vile scuffle for gain has not yet ended. 52 S U N-R I S E PAPERS. If men would look away into the peaceful and mag- nificent chambers of the east, in the morning, and into those of the west, in the evening, and reflect that such will be the " mansions" which the Son of God has gone to "prepare" for the righteous, they would receive an impulse to virtue through the day, and be visited by sweet dreams through the night. The awful grandeur of the clouds, when they' have been marshalled by the " Storm King, " is beyond the power of human language to describe. Vast, black, and terrible, as the army of rebeling angels, they are gath- ered for battle upon the plains of ether. Who does not liear tlic roll of their million cliariots, and the tramp of their iron shod chargers, in the pealing thunder 1 — Who does not see their flaming banners and their flash- ing steels in the lightning'? Wo unto the cities, the aged pines, and the gnarled oaks upon which that host shall charge in vengeance! Joy unto the drooping flowers and tiie wilted herbage which they shall visit in mercy! Clouds are the draperies which hang about the Al- mighty's throne ; when He conversed with Moses upon Sinai, it was from the midst of a cloud; the Son of God after his crucifixion and resurrection ascended to heaven upon a cloud, and in the clouds will he be seen coming at last, surrounded by all his angels. Shall I not continue to gaze with admiration upon the clouds ? S U ]\'-R ISEPAPERS. 53 THE LITERATURE OF SIGNS. A good natured writer rejoiced in the explosion of a steamboat's boilers, because a villainous piece of orthogra- phy, which was posted up in the shape of a handbill in the cabin — to wit : " iYo smoakiing aloud /icre," was thereby destroyed. Seeing there were '' no lives lost," the explo- sion teas a happy occurrence. And may the fate of the old ignoramus of a boat be a warning to blockheads in general. What a pity that we can't have a steamboat explosion in such of our streets as are disgraced by signs like the following : " Course Boots for Sail. J— B— ." " J. B." a politician and a stump orator in the bargain ! Errors in punctuation also are often seen upon signs, as ridiculous as those with which we meet in orthography ; a comma, or a semi-colon, being put after the initial letter of a christian name, or being used after an abbreviation, where a period is required. Such errors will sometimes find their way into the columns of a newspaper, or the pages of a book, in spite of all the care of the most experienced proof-reader; but upon signs, where they are the result purely of ignorance, they are a reproach to the civilization of the nineteenth century. The character of the signs which tradesmen and me- chanics place over their doors, furnish no mean clue to that of their owners. It is a matter in which every m.an usually consults his own taste, and gives directions to the painter; and hence we may obtain a very fair idea of the inhabitants of a village or city, by simply passing through its streets, and observing the signs. Handsome signs arc 54 S U N-R ISE TAPERS. indicative of refined taste and enterprise. Boston is called the " Athens of America," and the " City of Notions ;" and the admiration which Mr. Dickens expressed for the beauty of its signs, is well known. A tradesman, who understands the world, will have none but a handsome sign over his door. It costs a little more, to be sure ; but then the advantage which he derives from it, repays him ten times over in the end ; for where does a stranger go to make his purchases, but to the finest sign he can see, — and where he may expect to find a well selected assortment and gentlemanly attendance ? In conclusion, I beg leave to present, verbatim et pmic- iuatim, the sign of a Thompsonian Doctor, alike as a speci- men of literature, and as one of the " signs of the times.''' It is to be found in a classical city in the empire State : " Mcdisines and, Groceries Variety Store rheumatic. medisine Salt rheum cured or. no. pay Dr. oflice. Boots and shues maid and repaired. Cigars can- dels, soap eggs crackers and pys." If your features are not more radiant now, dear reader. I'll give up that there's no virtue in " yarbs.'''' TWO DAYS AT NIAGARA. " Heavens ! what a spectacle ! what a poem ! tlie half was never told me !" — were the exclamations w^hicli burst from my lips, when, after a journey of nearly a thou- sand miles, I first beheld Niagara. I had already read many sublime chapters in the "Book of Nature;" but its S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 55 Iliad was now before me. My ears were stunned by the thunder in which the leaves of the trees trembled for miles in circumference ; my cheek turned pale with terror, as 1 looked down over the precipice into the awful gulf — '• the hell of waters ;" my eye sparkled with admiration and gratitude inexpressible, as I beheld the column of spray, glittering with rainbows and reaching to tlie clouds. "Spray, thunder, and the beauteous bow of love — Niagara, what art thou? — the robes — the voice — The smile of God!" Nearly every epithet in the language, expressive of beauty or magnificence, has been applied to Niagara; yet the Falls never have been, and tliey never can be, de- scribed. It is, indeed, the height of presumption to attempt a description of this most sublime of Nature's works. The reader must see Niagara for himself; he must behold the terrific rapids above, and the clear green waters below; lie must weep on the brink of the awful precipice. The visiter at the Falls should by all means go down to the Whirlpool, three miles below. In wild beauty and magnificence, it is scarcely inferior to the Cataract itself; though a more cultivated eye is necessary to appreciate it. The river, as if exhausted by its long and frightful race through the rapids, (which commence again about half a mile below the precipice,) seems to pause here for a moment, to regain its energies; and after having made two or three slow and majestic circles around this immense basin, it rushes out in a different direction, and again pours itself in one continual and impetuous sheet of rapids, till it reaches the end of the mountain gorge. at Lewiston, where it again becomes tranquil, and quietly 66 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. falls, six miles below, into the bosom of Lake Ontario. Nothing can exceed the beauty and the grandeur of the majestic march of the clear green waters, which mirror tlie sky and the forest trees, as you stand upon the bank and look down, two hundred feet, into the Whirlpool basin. The view from Manitou Rock, at the edge of the water, about forty rods above the commencement of the Whirlpool, is, if passible, still more sublime and wildly beautiful. Standing upon the apex of this rock, which is near a hundred feet high, you may strain your vision to the utmost, and you shall not be able to discern a single indication that the foatsteps of mortal man, besides your own, ever approached this hallowed retreat of Nature. For once in your life, you have the inexpressible luxury of feeling yourself to be alone; while the eye dwells upon a scene, the sublimity of which almost petrifies the soul. Above, on comes the mighty river, thundering and foaming in its fury, and throwing on high its crested billows, in the exultation of its might; below is the great whirlpool, and still farther on, the rapids again. To cap the climax of the scene, there will be perhaps a grey eagle or two, soaring far into the blue ether over your head. A less supersti- tious people than the w^arlike Ircquois, might have fancied such a place to be the residence of Manitou, or the Great Spirit. The Catholic might here find " holy water," which had never been consecrated by the priest. A visit to this rock is attended with considerable difficulty, the shore of the river being covered with huge fragments of stone, which have fallen fiom the clift' above, though this detracts nothing from the rcmance of the excursion. The region about the Falls, according to the account of some cf the oldest ijihabitants, was formerly a most SUN-RISE PAPERS. 57 terrific place for rattlesnakes. A few years ago it was unsafe to go about without thick top boots and a heavy cane, as you would probably hear the rattling of several i^nakes close by you, in the course of half an hour's ramble. One eld gentleman — perhaps the reader will think his name wrs Sam Hyde — told me that he had seen them, on a sunny day, hanging over the cliffs on either side of the river, in knots of twenty or thirty, and rattling like a hail-storm. But however numerous these terrific reptiles may have been about the Falls, they have been almost entirely exterminated. One is killed, now and then, though very rarely. The old bark Detroit, the flag-ship of the British fleet, in the memorable battle of Lake Erie, now lies upon a rack amid the rapids., about half a mile above the precipice. This ship, after the close of the war, was employed in the merchant trade of the lakes, till the year 1841, when she was condemned as unseawortliy. The enthusiastic and poetical citizens of Buffalo then resolved that she should not be suffered to rot ingloriously in their docks, but that she should die a death worthy of her history. They de- termined to send her over the Cataract. Accordingly she was towed down to tlie commencement of the rapids, and there cut loose ; thousands of spectators being assembled on either bank of the river to witness the spectacle. In an instant she was within the grasp of the furious bil- lows ; and was hurled on with terrific rapidity towards the precipice, amid the shouts of the multitude, and the bowl- ings of two or three wild beasts that had been placed on board of her, till she struck, not unexpectedly to many, upon the rock where she now lies high and dry, and the thrilling excitement of the scene was over. One of the 6 58 SV r^-R ISE PAPERS. animals on board of her, a bear, jumped into the rapids, and succeeded in reaching the shore a few rods above the precipice. There was a bit of a joke in her failing to make the fearful plunge over the precipice, which had been antici- pated, from the circumstance that the indignant Whigs of the ''Queen City of the Lakes" had painted the word '' Veto," in large letters, upon her side, the second veto message of President Tyler having just arrived in that city. The enthusiastic anticipations of the spectators were all vetoed; and "His Accidency" was in worse odor than ever. The story of Francis Abbott, " the Hermit of the Falls."' is familiar to every one who has visited Niagara. This singular man is supposed to have been an English nobleman, who sought a solace for disappointed love, in the bosom- of solitude amid the stupendous works of nature ,• though nothing positive is known in relation to his history. He possessed a mind richly stored with the treasures of liter- ature, and a taste highly cultivated by reflection and travel. His reason appears to have been partially shattered. He wore a long scarlet silk robe ; and always carried his guitar with him, in his rambles from his cell ; which was upon one of the little islands, near the brink of the precipice. Much of his time was spent in the delightful pastime of literary composition, but his manuscripts were always destroyed, as soon as they were completed. Not a single one was ever read by any person beside himself He shunned the society and the notice of his fellow men; and it was his delight to hang for hours from a crag over the awful abyss of the precipice, with the angry waters boiling and roaring beneath his feet, and the rainbows glittering over his head. He at last fell a victim to his timerity in SUN-RISE PAPERS, 69 bathing near the rapids below the Falls, of which he was daily in the practice. On the second day of my tarry at Niagara, I made an excursion to the battle ground of Lundy's Lane, three miles from Table Rock, on the Canada side. The ferry across the river is about thirty rods below the Falls, and you go down the American bank on a slight railway. The little skilf seems at times to be almost overpowered by the eddying waters; but your fears quickly vanish when you look at the brawny arm of the ferryman; and you are very soon safely landed in tlie dominions of " Her Most Gracious Majesty," having enjoyed a more over- whelming view of the Cataract, from the centre of the river, than can be obtained from any other point. Several companies of British troops are stationed at Drummondville, through which village you pass, on your way to the Battle Ground. The soldiers are, for the most part, stout hardy looking men,^worthy of the " beef and pudding" of Old England; and are, of course, in a high state of discipline. At the command '^Harder harms!'''' from a cockney major, on parade, the whole plain groaned beneath the simultaneous tread of musketry. The detri- ment which a town receives, in the corruption of its morals, by having a large detachment of soldiers quartered in it, is abundantly evident, from the innumerable number of little taverns in this village, all of which sell ardent spirits. The battle of Lundy's Lane, which was fought, in the summer of 1814, on the heights near Drummondville, is well known to have been one of the fiercest and best contested battles of the last war. The trees on the ground, scarred with buUets, spealj eloquently of the fury of the 60 S V N-R ISE PAPERS. leaden storm. T]ie battle commenced a little before sun- down, and continued until past midnight. An old soldier who was in the Biitisli ranks in the action, used a quaint but graphic figure, in describing the fury with which it was began by Col. Scott; who being a mile or two in advance of the main body of the American army, with his regiment, and coming upon the enemy, immediately commenced an attack. It seems that there was a field of full grown rye upon the battle ground at the time, and that this, for some time, separated Scott's regiment from the British lines. " The bullets," said the person alluded to, " grazing the heads of the rye, gave it that peculiar appearance which fields of grain often present in mid-summer, when they are enlivened by millions of grass-hoppers springing from one straw to another. It was impossible to stand up before sucli a tempest of lead, and our regiment, who were most exposed, soon received orders to lie upon their faces.*' The battle ceased, as if by mutual consent, al)out midnight, both armies having fought with the most determined valor and suffered great loss. The field of conflict, the next morning, presented a scene truly illustrative of the horrors of war. Soldiers, horses, and trees, the dying and the dead, were all pro- miscuously mingled together. The American and the Briton lay side by side, with their bayonets plunged deep into each other's bosom ; for the English had met their equals in the use of their own boasted weapon; and they afterwards no longer taunted the republican army as being incapable of facing the charge of a battalion, wilh this terrible instrument of death. So hotly contested was this battle, that both parties claim to have had the advantage; the English, however. S V N-K ISE PAPERS. 61 ^vlth little show of plausibility. Certain it is that they were so roughly handled that they did not choose to renew tiie conflict the next morning, notwithstanding they had received large reinforcements during the night. The Americans fell back, with all their baggage, and ordnance, except a single piece, which was accidentally left behind, to their encasnpment at Fort Erie ; the British following at a respectful distance, and making no attempt to molest them. The English claim the victory, on the ground that the American army retreated ; but this by no means proves that they were beaten in the engagemicnt : for they were in an enemy''s country, and although they had defeated him in this individual battle, as appears from the position of the two armies, when the action closed; still a retreat might have been absolutely demanded by prudence, from tlie reinforcements that the enemy was constantly receiv- ing, and from which resource they were altogether cut off'. A son of the traitor Hull, who was a captain in the American lines, died gloriously fighting for his country, in this action; having been placed, at his request, in the thick- est of tlie battle, that he might the better be able to make some atonement for the accursed treachery of his father, and wipe off" the infamy, which burned, like the mark of Cain, upon his name. He sleeps with his brave com- panions, and foos, who fell in the conflict, beneath the green turf of the field of battle. Requiescat in pace! The hour was so late, when I returned to the Falls, that I did not go under the sheet of water, at Table Rock, as I had intended. But I did not much regret losing the adventure, as I was told that it is accompanied by little satisfaction and considerable peril. TJie number of visiters to Niagara is constantly increas- 6 t 62 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. ing. There are now probably about one hundred arrivals daily at all the hotels, during the months of August and September; and among them nearly every nation in the world is represented. " I want to go to America for five reasons," said Lord Byron to one of our countrymen, dur- ing the illness which terminated in his death — "I want to see Irving; I want to see Niagara; I want to see the living form of classic Freedom ; I want to go to Washing- ton's grave ; and I w^ant your government to acknowledge dreece as an independent nation." Before leaving Niagara for Buffalo, in the morning cars, I went down to take a last look at the Cataract. The terrific plunge of the mighty river — the thunder — the spray — the rainbows — were all still there. What a spec- tacle ! what a Poem ! My heart has been full ever since. TO AN OCEAN CLIFF. WRITTEN ON THE BEACH. DURING A STORM. Proud cliff! that towerest on thine ocean throne, Calm and unmoved while fierce tlie tempest raves. And hurls its thunders on thy splintered head, I hail thee o'er the dark and angry waves! Ages have passed since first against thy form Thus wildly roared the billow and the storm. New England cliff! upon our Pilgrim shore, God placed thee thus 'mid storms and waves to tower, To teach a glorious lesson to our sires. And nerve their arm to brave the tyrant's power. S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 63 Freedom was won I and Time's tempestuous main Shall 'gainst it roll its giant floods in vain. Emblem of Truth! though Boreas sweep the sky With more than Stygian whirlwinds, and on thee Lift angry billows like the mountains high, Still shalt thou tower, as now, in majesty! Eternal Truth! her rock shall stand sublime, When Error writhes upon the wreck of Time! Tower on, tower on, thou proud old ocean cliff, Triumphant o'er the billows and the storm! And may my soul be taught a lesson grand. While gazing now upon thy glorious form. Calm and unshaken may I stand like thee, When roar the waves of dark adversity! ON A GREEN VEIL, FOUND IN A FIELD. In the manner of the old English Poets. This veil unto a maiden fair, I ween did once belong; A maiden with soft, shining hair, And softer voice for song. E'en yet with her sweet maiden breath, 'Tis sweeter than the gale. When Summer, through her lily teeth, Breathes fragrance o'er the dale. The maid was singing in the morn, Unto the rose-crowned Hours, 64 S U N-R ISE PAPEE«. As they upon the grassy lawn Danced round her 'mong the flowers. The veil was bathed in sunbeams bright, Which sought her cheek the while; Yet shone it in a sunnier light, The maiden's sunny smile. Ah, what will do the maiden now? How hide her blushing cheek. When of a young and manly brow The village maidens speak ?- The sun with all too ardent rays Her rosy cheek will brown; And she at Passion's 'raptured gaze Can only blush and frown. Her smiles and frowns no more concealed- And she so many arts — The fate of all the town is sealed — She'll break our sighing hearts I THE VILLAGE ORATOR O R A T R y Oratory is the most noble of all arts, both from its pow- er and its intrinsic majesty. Raising and tossing, at will, the dormant passions of men into wild and tempestuous agitation, or calming them, with the same ease, into slum- bering beauty — it is the trident of Neptune extended over the sea. Uprooting prejudice, and winning its admi- S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 65 ration and obeisance, infusing spiritual life into avarice^ and drawing after it communities and nations — it is the thrilling lyre of Orpheus, with the trees, and rocks, and hills, all following in its train. Rending the gnarled oaks of superstition and error, and bringing a just retribution upon crime, (for true oratory, like true poetry, must always have a great purpose,) it is the scathing bolt of Jupiter. How noble, how god-like does man appear in the practice of this sublime art, when he possesses it in the highest degree of perfection. How much has Oratory done for human liberty and human happiness ! Let the hnagination picture, for a moment, some of the scenes of its glorious triumphs. And for such scenes, we need not go, after the fashionable custom, to the Roman Senate, or to the Grecian Forum; modern times — the history of the American people — a people enthusiastic and ambitious in their nature, rocked in the cradle of war in their infancy, reared amid mighty rivers and gigantic mountains, and with an inextinguish- able love of freedom in their bosoms — the history of such a people will furnish abundant instances of the noblest triumphs of the art. Take a single scene from tlie sublime epoch of the Revolution — one, the contemplation of which ever sets the blood on fire, notwithstanding its triteness. Go into the House of Burgesses in Virginia, and behold Henry in the grandeur of his immortal speech before that body — a speech which found an echo in every torrent in the land, and which is said to have given the first impulse to the ])all of the Revolution. While the enthusiastic and indig- nant patriot speaks of the wrongs and insults which the colonies have borne so long and so loyally, and hurls his 6G S U N-R ISE PAPERS. anathemas against the unnatural tyranny of the Mother Coujitry, look around over the house, and see the quivering lip, the clenched teeth, and the contracted brow. And then, when he speaks of the impossibility of a reconcilia- tion, and exclaims in a voice of thunder, " The war is inevitable — - and let it come ! Yes, sir, let it cojie ! * * Give me Liberty, or give me Death!" — behold the whole house, nearly every member of whom, when the orator began, was opposed to any open manifestation of hostility, springing involuntarily to their feet, with the sublime sentiment of the master-spirit who controlled tliciii, sv/elling in their breast, and flashing in their eye ! Who can estimate the probable consequences of that mighty achievement of oratory ! Could the immortal pa- triot look down to-day from his star^paved city of repose, (for he was a Christian,) he would behold some of its glorious fruits ; twenty millions of freemen, happy in the smiles of peace and prosperity — their commerce whitening every sea — their industry rendering tributary every breeze and every stream — their cities rivaling in beauty and size those of the eastern hemisphere, and their " march of empire," in its unbounded and indomitable energy, already pouring through the gaps of the great western mountains, and planting the banner of freedom amid the spray of the Pacific. Yes, he would behold Tyranny in the Old World trembling upon her iron throne ! Picture, for a moment, another scene of the glorious triumphs of this noble art — one in which we shall behold the highest oratorical powers consecrated to a yet sublimer purpose, and achieving through the Divine blessing, yet sublimer results. The graceful and thrilling oratory of Whitefield, has never perhaps been excelled, either in S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 67 or dut of the pulpit. He was, as is well knowiij an Eng- lishman by birth, but many of his most splendid efforts were made in this country. Let us fancy him preaching to one of his vast auditories, upon a quiet evening in June, in an open field, as was his custom, for want of a Iiouse of sufficient capacity to hold the immense multitudes that flocked to hear him. While the mighty assemblage — the sea of human life — has been flowing together, the angel-stars have all come out, with their golden harps, and gathered in the choirs of the constellations upon the plain of heaven ; the silvery moon is in their midst, with a face of benevolence and love, excelled in brightness only by that of the ascended Jesus, when he looks around upon the beatitude of the sharers of his glory whom his Father has given him; tlie saint-like waters glisten in her holy beams, and mirror in their breast the loveliness of the skies; the air is filled with the fragrance of the incense-flowers, and the pious notes of the philomel. And amid this scene of beauty, and of the worship of Nature, after a hymn of praise has been sung by a thousand voices, and yet echoes and re-echoes among the green hills in the distance, the ambassador of Heaven stands up to speak of the love of God, the ingratitude of man, and the terrible sentence which awaits him in the world to come, except he shall repent. " God is love; the smile of his benev- olence fills the world and the universe. The sun, which will to-morrow dispel the darkness and gloom of night, kissing the tear-drops from the drooping flowers, and awakening all nature to animation, and joy, and song, is but the * shadow ' of His love. All worlds, all creatures, except men and the spirits of darkness, and all inanimate things, praise him. Listen to the notes from yonder grove ; look 68 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. around upon the gleaming waters, and up at the singing stars ! But there is a day coming * which shall burn as an oven !' Woe, woe unto him, who, having bartered im- mortality for gain, shall then call in vain upon the rocks and mountains to fall upon him, and hide him from the face of his offended Judge !" As the sacred orator has proceeded, preaching " as God does through nature in the sigh of the zephyr and the peal of the tliunder," what a lifting-up of grovelling affections, what a breaking down of haughty spirits has there been among the twenty thousand human beings, composed of all ages, sexes, and conditions in life, who have hung upon his words, as upon " the strains of some heavenly visitant!" The love of the drooping saint has been kin- dled afresh, and with a more beautiful intensity; the slave of mammom has loosened his grasp upon his pelf, and is longing for the incorruptible riches; the infidel has ceased to scoff, and is trembling, like Felix, before the power of truth; the Pharisee has looked into the " whited sep- ulchre" of his heart, and he will not now "so much as lift up his eyes to heaven." Joy to the Cross for such a spectacle ! The angel-stars which broke forth into song when man was created in the image of his Maker, and which have ever shed their dewy tears upon the night of his degradation, tuned their harps to a mightier hallelujah as they beheld him returning to his God ! Such is the power and the majesty of Oratory. The schoolmen may sneer at this noble art, as being "mere trickery and pictures," and better suited to the boards of a theatre than to the dignity of the legislative hail, or the sanctity of the house of God ; but the friends of a chaste and elevated style of oratory, when they consider the sub- S U N-R ISEPAPERg. 69 lime achievements which it has accomplished, and is still accomplishing, for liberty, for virtue, and through the Di- vine blessing, for the salvation of men— when they also reflect that the greatest and most useful public speakers, in all ages, both in and out of the Church, have been the most ardent students of the art, they may well be con- tent to leave unnoticed, alike the sneers of ignorance, and the detractions of envious feebleness and sloth. And what a noble reward is such a mighty and majestic art to enthusiastic and persevering application in its acqui- sition; for Oratory undoubtedly is an art — an art of the greatest difficulty, but an art, nevertheless. The proverbs among the ancients, ^^ Orator Jit'''' et '^ poeta nascitur, non fit,'''' were alike founded in truth. Nature, it is true, must Jiave bestowed superior powers of mind upon the man who can become a great orator,- but she gives nothing more than the material. She leaves it to the man himself, from a profound study of the principles of architecture, to fashion and rear the temple, with its Corinthian columns, its lofty architraves, and its " cloud-capped" dome, burning in the sunlight amid the heavens. Some of the most, essential qualities, indeed, to true oratory — such as re- late to elocution— are altogether acquired, as might be shown in numerous instances. Whitefield, it is evident, from a perusal of his published sermons, owed his irresist- ible power, in a very large degree, to the fascination and energy of his delivery; and it is truly astonishing how much any person of even ordinary natural faculties may achieve in oratory, by long and assiduous application and practice. Our young men, w^ho have the bar or the pulpit in view, but do not aim at a high degree of excellence as public speakers because they suppose such an acquisi- 7 70 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. tion, however ardently they may desire it, to be beyond their reach, should be undeceived in this matter. Let them consider the obstacles — the discouraging infirmities both of body and of mind — which have been overcome by many of the greatest orators that the world has pro- duced, and the ardor and perseverance with which all have pursued their object, who have excelled in this art. To pass by the oft-repeated story of Him of Greece — retiring from the public assembly overwhelmed with confusion and disgrace, and afterwards going to the sea-shore in his unconquered determination, and declaiming to the billows, till his words had caught their own grandeur and omnipo- tent energy — let them think of the great Chatham, and of Lee, the " American Cicero," practising for years be- fore a mirror, in order to acquire an easy, graceful, and forcible action ; of the untiring application with which Robert Hall, and our own Webster, devoted themselves to oratorical studies in their youth; aye, of a Broughman, shutting himself up in his study for three weeks, in his tremendous enthusiasm, to catch a proper inspiration, and then writing the peroration of his " oration on the crown' over fifteen times before it is brought to its final shape! Let our young men think of all this, and " go and do like- wise."' '^'Impossible? did you say impossible, Sir?" said Napoleon to one of his desponding generals, when the Alps stood before them, and glory was beyond ; " Impossi- ble? We shall see!" SUN-RISE PAPERS. 71 THE GIANT OAK. There on the hill it stood, its verdant head Amid the clouds, its rriighty feet among The rocks. When zephyr dallied with its locks. How soft its sighs and whispered words of love, — How like the roar of human battle was The noise when all its branches fought the blast! Upon its lofty limbs the eagles built Their regal nest, and reared their noble young; And there they screamed unto the rising sun. Ere yet the little marsh-wren knew he came. How towered in glory then the Giant Oak, — Its dewy leaves bathed in the golden beams. Screaming its hailings to the glowing orb. While yet in gloom and silence slept the vale I For centuries there the Giant Oak had stood : Stars it had seen go out upon the sky, And come not forth again, as from their thrones Fell the rebeling angels into night; — Stars it had seen from chaos-wand'rings rise, And join the anthems of the glittering hosts, Like saints from earth to heaven to shine and sing. Amid, and o'er the wilderness it towered. When hill, and plain, and dale was wilderness, And sylvan generations, 'neath its arms. Had sprouted, grown, and fell. The moon, which shone Upon the sea, when, from the Pinta's deck. The thrilling cry, " Land! land."' rose on the night, Poured on its slumbering leaves her silvery beams. It saw the storm of Revolution rise, And when its thunders burst at Lexington, It clapped and clapped its myriad hands with joy. In the unshackled breeze which swept the hills. 72 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. There had it stood, and fought the Northern blast,- And overcome, for centuries, its rage; The whirlwind, which tore up the aged pines. Had howled among its gnarled limbs in vain. The freeborn yeoman, as at dewy morn He sought his flowery field, paused on the hill. And gazed upon the Giant Oak with pride. And as, year after year, the autumn storm Thus powerless howled among its knotty limbs. He dreamed the Oak, save to the axe of Time, Was conquerless, and in its acre-shade He strung his rustic liarp, and sung: '•The grand old ook — the Giant Oak, How proud upon the hill it towers I It strengthens in the winter blasts, And brightens in the summer shower?. " An hundred years have past since first Our fathers danced within its shade; And from its acrons sprang the trees Of which a warrior ship was made. " It taller every year hath grown. And greener every budding spring; — And to it still an hundred years Their wealth of shining leaves shall bring. "Howl on, howl on, ye Autumn blasts. And pour your hail, O winter storm! Triumphant still, the Giant Oak Shall rear unbowed its glorious form I" Alas! alas! O yeoman, there were foes. Undreamed of, or despised, ignoble foes. More mighty than the whirlwind and the blast! And even whilst thou spake, the Giant Oak — The Warrior Oak — was doomed I Aye, even then, The field-mouse and the epicurean worm. S U N-R ISEPAPERS. 73 Its autumn wealth had gathered, and had bred, Were busy at its roots. And there, unseen. While rolled the years away, they revelled on. Root after root was severed, till its leaves Grew dull and dwarfish, and, at last, yellowed, And died, and came not forth again with Spring. And then its branches, one by one, rotted And fell, and from its trunk the bark pealed off. Naked and desolate — swayed by the breeze — The picus thrusting to its heart, for worms, Her greedy beak — a perch for carrion crows — It stood, till Heaven looked on its blasted form, In wrath, and said, " Why cumbereth it the ground?'''' And her red bolts fell vengeful from the cloud. My Country! like the Giant Oak doth tower Thy glorious strength, verdant, and to the sky ! Thou bless'd of Heaven! how hailest thou the day — How shinest in the sun, while yet, in night. The nations sleep! And thou shalt tower and thrive Triumphant o'er the boreal storms of Time. But if Corruption, with her loathsome train Of slimy demagogues and parasites, Gathered, and bred, and nursed, by '-'■Party Spoils,^'' >Shall fester in thy soil — then shalt thou die! Not as becomes thy greatness, but in shame; — Then shall thy beauty fall, thy strength decay; And thou shalt stand, naked and desolate. And mocked, as stood the Giant Oak, — as stood Old Rome, till Heaven doth rend thee with her bolts I O God! forefend, forefend, the cursed day! 7 t 74 S IJ N-R I S E P A P E R S. VISIT TO NORTH BEND. During a late journey into Indiana, I visited North Bend — fifteen miles down the Ohio from Cincinnati — a place which, like Mount Vernon, Monticello, and the Her- mitage, is " hallowed ground" to every true American. Whatever may be our differences of opinion upon political topics, I trust there are but few persons in any party, who do not entertain a profound reverence for all the illus- trious men whose patriotism and integrity have shed a glory over the history of their country. The residence of Gex. Harrison — "the old eagle that soared up to the sun to die" — faces the Ohio, at the distance of about a quarter of a mile from the bank. It is composed of a main two story building (the " log cabin") with long one story wings — all of them clap- boarded, and painted white. The additions to the main building were evidently made as they were needed, with- out any particular regard to architectural effect. A row of aged trees in front, gives to the mansion a venerable and classic aspect. The yard in which it is situated em- braces some two or three acres, and in the summer is covered with a beautiful carpet of green. Fruit and forest trees are scattered over it in various directions. The appearance of the mansion is that of the residence of an intelligent country gentleman in easy circumstances. The farm embraces fifteen hundred acres of good land, about nine hundred of which are cleared. There are now upon it some ten or eleven hundred head of stock ; about half of which are neat cattle and horses. In ad- S V N-R ISEPAPERS. 75 dition to keeping this quantity of stock, the General used to raise upon his farm about four hundred bushels of wheat. The farm is now managed by W. H. H. Taylor, Esq., the son-in-law of Harrison, and a few years since the postmaster of Cincinnati. The tomb of Harrison, which most engages the atten- tion of the visitor, is upon a high mount, about a quarter of a mile down the river from the mansion. It is enclosed by a handsome white fence in a yard of about half an acre, of the form of an ellipse. The tomb is a simple stone vault, sunk in the top of the hill, and without any inscription on the door — none was needed. It overlooks a large portion of the farm, the bright waters of the Ohio for several miles up and down the river, and the neighbor- ing region of Kentucky. The prospect from the tomb is full of grandeur, and in the summer must be strikingly beautiful. The tomb is a great deal visited by travelers; and I was shocked to observe that many had had the foolish vanity to carve the initials of their names upon the door. Such conduct betrays a pitiable ignorance of what belongs to propriety, and is beneath contempt. If their respect for the ashes of one of the purest and best men that ever lived, is not sufficient to deter them from such folly, the humility which it becomes us to cherish in the presence of the dead, should be. Capt. Allison who keeps the key, and who was at Tippecanoe with Gen. Harrison, informed me that a great many even apply to him, and offer him money, to open the vault, that they may gratify the most irreverent and unblushing curios- ity. Capt. A., is poor, but such offers are always, of course, rejected with indignation. 76 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. General Harrison attended Church at the Old School Presbyterian Society of the late Dr. Wilson in Cincinnati, until a meeting house was erected at Clevetown, within a mile of his residence. It is well known that he took a deep interest in Sabbath Schools, and I believe he acted in the capacity of Superintendent to the one connected with the church at Clevetown. I plucked a few wild flowers on the outside of the enclosure, which late in autumn were shedding their fra- grance around the tomb, and came away repeating the beautiful ode of Collins : "How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod, Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. " By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell a weeping hermit there!" THE CINCINNATI FIRE DEPARTMENT. The fire department of this city justly has the repu- tation of being one of the most efficient in the Union. Its members are not over and above nice about their uni- forms — which are much less gaudy and expensive than those of the firemen of some of our eastern cities — but S U ]\'-R ISEPAPERS. 77 their engines are kept in the most perfect order, and they are always prompt and energetic in the discharge of their duty. Let the alarm-bell strike in the silence of midnight, or in the almost torrid heat of one of our summer noons, and away go the engines in a jiffy, rattling and crashing over the pavements, with every man at the ropes ; and the boldness and impetuosity with which these noble fel- lovvs rush upon the devouring flames, when the scene of danger has been reached, will remind you of one of the charges of Murat's cavalry in the mouths of the Austrian cannon. I had an opportunity of witnessing their prompt- ness and efficiency at a fire which broke out yesterday, from spontaneous combustion, as is supposed, in the attic of a large drug store. In live minutes after the bell struck, they w^ere on the ground and battling, like Titans, against the destroying element. It made the brain dizzy to see the intrepid fellows who held the pipes, standing upon the high and tottering roof, with the flames and smoke roaring and streaming up all around them. The building, notwithstanding it was filled with com- bustibles, and the fire had made strong headway when the alarm was given, was saved, witli the exception of the roof and a part of the upper story. The firemen, to carry out the figure which I have used above, came out of the action, blackened all over with smoke and cinders. They are an honor as well as a blessing to the city — which, although fires are of almost daily occurrence, has seldom suffered from serious conflagrations. The ladies, by the way, to whose avowed admiration I suspect the efficiency of the firemen is chiefly attributable, are now holding a fair for their benefit; and they certainly could not make the young men " pay too dear for the whistle" for a more worthy object. 78 SUN-RISE PAPERS. SELF RELIANCE. It is a proud spectacle to stand upon the sea-shore and behold a noble frigate, seemingly conscious of her strength and tired of an inglorious case, cast off her moorings from the land, spread her sails to the breeze, and plunge away into the vastness and solitude of the ocean. The thunder that roars from her side bespeaks her a fit companion for the great whale and the leviathan -— an antagonist worthy of the hurricane and the mountain billow. " No dastard end,*' we exclaim in our admiration, " will be hers. She will do no dishonor to the mighty oaks from which she was constructed. ' Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish,' she will never shrink from danger and from duly — her colors will wave and her drums will beat to the last ! And kindred feelings of admiration and confidence are excited in our bosom on beholding a young man shake off the fetters of indolent dependence, gather up the energies of his spirit, and boldly plunge out into the sea of human life, to woo its breezes and to battle with its billows. There is a true moral grandeur in such a spectacle; and we feel that such a young man will achieve something worth living for — that he will be an honor to his family and a blessing to his country. These expectations are never disappointed. It is im- }X)ssible tliat such a young man, when his efforts are rightly directed, should not succeed. The very act of his thus throwing himself upon his own resources, developes and strengthens his energies, and prepares him for great under- takings. His whole intellectual and moral nature is ex- S U N-R I S E P A P E R 6. 79 panded and ennobled. Besides, under such circumstances, he feels that if he succeeds or fails in his undertakings, the honor or the shame will be entirely his own ; and thus pride becomes a greater spur to urge him onward. Self^ confidence also gives a man a tremendous power in every sphere of life. It is an old maxim, that, '' when we believe we can do a thing, it is already half done.*' In a word, the history of Self-Reliance is a history of every thing great that has ever been accomplished, either in private or in public life. Self-Reliance is always characteristic of a noble mind. Such a mind scorns a servile dependence upon others, having confidence in its own abilities. As a means of cultivating Self-Reliance, we should often gaze up at the stupendous majesty of our nature. We are men; and how mighty are man's powers ! how sublime have been his achievements ! And with this " divinity" within us, let us never sit down supinely and in despair of our powers. PRESS ONWARD. How beautifully is the reward of resolute perseverance illustrated in the history of the expedition which resulted in the discovery of this Continent. It is well known that the crews of the ships which composed the squadron, were frequently disheartened and mutinous during the voyage; and that, when they had plunged seven hundred leagues into the wilds of an unknown ocean — their vessels having 80 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. become leaky, their provisions nearly exhausted, and ever\ sign of land having thus far proved delusive- — their spirits entirely sank under the hardships and perils of their situa- tion ; they lost all confidence in the success of the enter- prize; became terrified for the safety of their lives; and threatened to seize the ships, and throw their commander overboard, should he not consent to their immediate return to Spain. But Columbus was still unappalled and resolute. Not all the imprecations of his men, the extreme hard- ships and perils of his situation, the disappointments he had experienced, and the seemingly increased uncertainty of the success of the expedition, could subdue the ardor and fortitude of his spirit. By threats and promises he prevailed upon his men to consent to continue the voyage for three days longer; and, early on the morning of the third, the glorious cry of '' Z/awfZ, landP'' rang through the squadron! A " new world" had been discovered — the ex- pedition had been crowned with the most complete success. and its commander, and the sovereigns who had assisted him in its outfit, were covered with imperishable laurels, — when if the enterprise had been abandoned but two dav- sooner, at the importunities of the crews, ridicule anci shame would have been the portion of all. The incident, so full of encouragement, may be profit ably remembered in all the occupations of life. If you have launched your bark upon the delusive sea of Fortune, and are groping about in search of "land," buflfeted by bi; lows, delayed by calms, and nearly disheartened by want (^ EtrUcrn Ciiles. j;^ ^*jit Orders for scarce books, American or European, attended to with despatch and punctuality. RD -16.6. m 'f§ !^ .^y?^ <>'. .0 ,0 ^ .0^ ^^r "V^ (iv ,. ^ ' °, vj> ^j,^ ^ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 'J^ 9 -^ « o «^ A^ * "5' Neutralizing Agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: -^^ ^,* ^-^ '-mi^\ -t- ms JAN ^ .^ ^o O N O ^ *t5> 0^ .^'*. '^o^ ^ov^ :^ '^^^.^i^^V "V^^-^V" ■"^'''^^^/" " c ^ •($> c 4 ^^. : ^i^^'- ■•fii,' li ^ A^ X ^o ''^!§^-V^ V^^^V ^•^^ DOBBS BROS. v .-^ u.^«.s..o.« V^ ^ .^^%^.^^ t^^^^ ,^'^ A^ i ^ E 6 .76 ^^., ST. AUGUSTINE , ^'''^ FLA. A 32084 . (9 J^yr: