the creatures which utter them; and the heart which feels no sympathy with happiness should claim no kindred with man, no participation in that benevolent taste which dignifies our nature.

Now what is to hinder the disciple of Jesus Christ from entering into these feelings, and rejoicing with all things that live and rejoice? But he does not rest in sympathy alone: he springs forth to the adoration of the great Author of all felicity and all beauty. He traces the glorious attributes of God in all the productions of his hands, and in every work of genius and masterly skill which the divine inspiration enables man to produce. Whatever is in itself good and delicious carries the pious man home to the Deity. And if religious ideas and susceptibilities be thus associated with the various objects of taste, so that, when presented, such objects shall serve to kindle into a gentle flame those pure and sweet affections in which piety essentially consists, how exquisite must be the pleasure! Let the hills and the vales, the woodlands and the meadows, of your romantic district, when arrayed in verdure and laughing with abundance, convey to the mind of the beholder a remembrance of the overflowing bounty of the beneficent God; let this beholder be one who can say, in the spirit of adoption, and of the warmest gratitude, "my Father made them all," my reconciled God and Father; and he will be filled with a higher and a holier joy than any that can be known by the mere man of the world. In other words, whatever is beautiful, or grand, or sublime, in hea-. ven or on earth, is enjoyed with a far better relish by the Christian than by any other human being. Religion, then, instead of making men dull and stupid, trains them up to the most exalted contemplations, and blesses them with pleasures as elegant as they are. unadulterated. However unsightly and sombre to the eye of the worldling the paths of piety may appear; yet is the region through which they lead so set with goodly flowers, and abounding with prospects so love

ly to the sight and so gladsome to the heart, that the land of Eden was not more enchanting. But you can do justice to this subject; I cannot. Let your time and your talents, therefore, be devoted to the work of recommending the religion of the gospel, as the best ornament of the learned, and best instructor of the ignorant; the purest source of earthly peace and satisfaction, and only foundation of everlasting happiness. May God bless you!

C.

Your ancient Friend,

BENEVOLUS.

No. 8. SEPTEMBER 23, 1813.

Eloquence of Patrick Henry.

I ESTEEM it one of the happy events of my life that I have heard the eloquence of that extraordinary man, Patrick Henry. Few such men have ever lived; and I do not expect to look upon his like again." Shall we call him the Cicero of Virginia? I think he more strongly resembled Demosthenes. Indeed he seems to have possessed the united excellencies of both the celebrated orators of antiquity. By the way, I have fallen reluctantly into a degree of heresy in my estimation of Cicero. He appears to me to have great defects as well as great merits. His art in conducting a cause is admirable, but not quite sufficient to conceal itself. His language is splendidly elegant; but we cannot help thinking of the labour which it must have cost Cicero to make it so. My deepest quarrel, however, is with his egotism and vanity. He was too little capable of forgetting himself, and thirsted too eagerly for popular applause. I have somewhere met with the following comparison, (I quote from memory,) between Cicero and Demosthenes, which I think must be founded in fact. "When Cicero finished a speech, his hearers exclaimed, what a fine orator Cicero is! How ingenious in argument, how brilliant

in language! When Demosthenes concluded an ora tion, nobody thought any thing of Demosthenes. The universal cry was, to arms, citizens; let us march and dethrone Philip!" But whither am I rambling? Let u's return to Henry.

Many years ago I was at the trial, in one of our district courts, of a man charged with murder. The case was briefly this. The prisoner had gone, in the execution of his office as a constable, to arrest a slave who had been guilty of some misconduct, and bring him to justice. Expecting opposition in the business, the constable took several men with him, some of them armed. They found the slave on the plantation of his master, within view of the house, and proceeded to seize and bind him. His mistress, seeing the arrest, came down and remonstrated vehemently against it. Finding her efforts unavailing, she went off to a barn where her husband was, who was presently perceived running briskly to the house. It was known that he always kept a loaded rifle lying over his door. The constable now desired his company to remain where they were, taking care to keep the slave in custody, while he himself would go to the house to prevent mischief. He accordingly ran toward the house." When he arrived within a short distance of it, the master appeared, coming out of the door with his rifle in his hand. Some witnesses said that as he came to the door he drew the cock of the piece, and was seen in the act of raising it to the position of firing. But upon these points there was not an entire agreement in the evidence. The constable, standing near a small building in the yard, at this instant fired, and the fire had a fatal effect. No previous malice was proved against him; and his plea upon the trial was that he had taken the life of the assailant in necessary selfdefence.

A great mass of testimony was delivered. This was commented on with considerable ability by the attorney for the commonwealth, and by another law

yer engaged by the friends of the deceased to assist the prosecution. The prisoner was also defended in claborate speeches by two respectable advocates. These proceedings brought the day to a close. The general whisper, through a crowded house, was that the man was guilty, and could not be saved. About the dusk of the evening candles were brought, and Henry arose. His manner was exactly that which the British Spy describes with so much felicity; plain, simple, and entirely unassuming. "Gentlemen of the jury,' ," said he, "I dare say we are all very much fatigued with this tedious trial. The prisoner at the bar has been well defended already; but it is my duty to offer you some farther observations in behalf of this unfortunate man. I shall aim at brevity. But should I take up more of your time than you expect, I hope. you will hear me with patience when you consider that blood is concerned." I cannot admit the possibility that any one who never heard Henry speak should be made fully to conceive the force of impression which he gave to these few words, blood is concerned. I had been on my feet through the day, pushed about in the crowd, and was excessively weary. I was strongly of opinion too, notwithstanding all the previous defensive pleadings, that the prisoner was guilty of murder; and I felt anxious to know how the matter would terminate. Yet when Henry had uttered these words, the state of my feelings underwent an instantaneous change: I found every thing within me answering at once, yes, since blood is concerned, in the name of all that is righteous, go on; we will hear you with patience until the rising of tomorrow's sun. This bowing of the soul must have been universal; for the profoundest silence reigned, as if our very breath had been suspended. The spell of the magician was upon us, and we stood like statues around him. Under the touch of his genius every particular of the story assumed a new aspect, and his cause became continually more bright and promising.

At length he arrived at the fatal act itself. "You have been told, gentlemen, that the prisoner was bound by every obligation to avoid the supposed necessity of firing, by leaping behind a house near which he stood at that moment. Had he been attacked with a club, or with stones, the argument would be unanswerable; and I should feel myself compelled to give up the defence in despair. But surely I need not tell you, gentlemen, how wide is the difference between sticks or stones and double-triggered, loaded rifles cocked at your breast." The effect of this terrific image, exhibited in this great orator's peerless manner, cannot be described. I dare not attempt to delineate the paroxysm of emotion which it excited in every heart. The result of the whole was that the prisoner was acquitted; with the perfect approbation, I believe, of the numerous assembly who attended the trial.

What was it that gave such transcendent force to the eloquence of Henry? His reasoning powers were good; but they have been equaled, and more than equaled, by those of many other men. His imagination was exceedingly quick, and commanded all the stores of nature as materials for illustrating his subject. His voice and delivery were inexpressibly happy. But his most irresistible charm was the vivid feeling of his cause with which he spoke. Such feeling infallibly communicates itself to the breast of the hearer.

Patrick Henry acted a very conspicuous part in our revolutionary struggle. Ardent in maintaining the liberties of his country, it was he, above all others, who aroused the spirit of his fellow citizens to resist the oppressions of Britain, and to defy the power of her fleets and armies. What a feast of entertainment should we find in a well written life of this singular man, the boast of Virginia, and the wonder of his aget