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best law-givers on slavery-nò longer suffer our voicel to roll across the Atlánticl in empty wárnings and fruitless òrders. Tell me not of rìghts—tálk not of the pròperty of the planter in his slaves. I deny his right, I acknòwledge not the property. The prínciples, the feelings, of our common nature, ríse in rebèllion against it. Be the appeal made to the understanding or to the heart, the sentence is the samel that rejècts it. In váin you tell me of làws' that sanction such a claim!
There is a láw above all the
enactments of human codes-the same throughout the world-the same in àll times-such as it wás' before the daring genius of Colúmbus' pierced the night of àges, and ópened to one world' the sources of pòwer, wèalth, and knowledge; to another1 all unutterable wòes-súch is it' at this day—it is the làw! written by the finger of God' on the heart of man; and by thát law, unchangeable and eternal, while men despise fraud, and loathe rapìne, and hate blood, they shall reject with indignàtion' the wild and guilty phántasy, that mánꞌ can hold pròperty in man! In váin you appeal to treaties, to covenants between nations. The covenants of the Almighty, whether the òld covenant or the néw, denounce such unholy pretensions. To thèse laws did they of old refer who maintained the African tràde. Such treaties did they cíte, and not untrùly; for, by one shameful cómpact, you bartered the glories of Blénheim' for the traffic in blood. Yét, in despite of law and of treaty, that infernal tráffic is now destroyed' and its vòtaries put to death' like other pirates. Hòw came this change to pass? Not, assuredly, by Párliament leading the way; but the country at length awoke; the indignation of the people' was kindled; it descended in thúnder, and smòte the traffic, and scattered its guilty profits to the wìnds. Now, then, let the planters bewàre-let their assèmblies beware-let the government at home beware-let the Parliament beware! The same country' is once mòre awake to the condition of Negro slavery; the same indignation' kindles in the bosom of the people; the same cloud is gathering' that annihilated the slave-trade; and if it shall descend again, they on
whom its crash may fall will not be destroyed' before I have warned them; but I pray that their destruction' may turn away from us the more tèrrible judgments of God. LORD BROUGHAM,
[WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, one of the greatest poets of our age and country, was born at Cockermouth in Cumberland, in 1770, and died in 1850. After the completion of his studies at Cambridge and a short tour on the Continent, he retired to "Rydal Mount," where a great portion of his life was passed amidst the mountain seclusion of the Lakes in Westmoreland. His writings are characterised by a high tone of moral purity and religious fervour, and are frequently robed in imagery of glowing eloquence. Wordsworth has exercised no small influence in moulding the poetic taste of the present age. The whole of the poetry that has issued from the English press for years, has been tinctured and coloured with the regenerative power of his genius. His greatest work is "The Excursion."]
Three years she grew in sun and shower,
On earth was never sown;
This child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A Lady of my own.
"Myself will, to my darling, be
Both law and impulse: and with me
In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
To kindle or restrain.
"She shall be sportive as the fawn,
And her's shall be the breathing balm,
"The floating clouds their state shall lend
Even in the motions of the storm,
Grace that shall mould the maiden's form
By silent sympathy.
“The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear,
Where rivulets dance their wayward round;
Shall pass into her face.
"And vital feelings of delight
Shall rear her form to stately height,
Here in this happy dell."
Thus Nature spake The work was done.
How soon my Lucy's race was run!
She died, and left to me
This heath, this calm, and quiet scene;
The memory of what has been,
And never more will be.
Tell me, ye winged winds,
ye not know some spot
Where mortals weep no more?
Where, free from toil and pain,
The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low,
Tell me, thou mighty deep,
Knowest thou some favoured spot,
Where weary man may find
The bliss for which he sighs,—
And friendship never dies?
The loud waves, rolling in perpetual flow,
May find a happier lot?
Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe,
And a voice sweet, but sad, responded, "No."
Tell me, my secret soul,
Oh! tell me, Hope and Faith,
And weariness a rest?
Faith, Hope, and Love, best boons to mortals given,
IN HEAVEN !"
STRUCTURE OF THE HUMAN BODY.
Compages, (L.) a system or structure
canal in the abdomen, forming part of the organs of digestion. Mucilage, (mucus, L.) a kind of slimy
Process, (pro, cedo, L.) a protuberance, eminence, or projecting part of a bone. Tendon, (tendo, L.) Lit. the stretcher.
THE FRAMEWORK OF THE HUMAN BODY THE TRUNK.
THE human body is constructed upon an internal bony skeleton, which serves as a framework or scaffolding for its
support, and protects its softer and more tender organs. may be considered as made up of six parts, the head, the trunk, and the four limbs.
The head is chiefly occupied by the brain and the organs of sense. The former is lodged in the skull, a strong hollow cup composed of eight bones, which, having their edges curiously notched, like the teeth of a saw, fit firmly and compactly into each other. The receptacle so formed is attached to the top of the spine, and thus the brain is put in immediate connection with the spinal cord, which closely resembles it in nature and functions.
In thus fixing the head upon the spine, careful provision had to be made for its necessary motions. Man's nature leads him to look upwards, but he could have never done so, had his neck been rigid. And even to look downwards, or to either side of him, would have been in that case an awkward and troublesome process. Yet how easily do we accomplish all these movements! Two separate joints, quite different in construction, are introduced to give us the required freedom. First, between the head and the uppermost vertebra of the neck, there is a joint somewhat like a hinge, which we use when we nod, or stoop, or look upwards. But this is not enough; we must also have the power of turning the head round upon the body to a certain extent. Accordingly, in the uppermost vertebra of the neck, already spoken of, there is a hole or socket, into which is inserted a small tooth-like projection (called by anatomists a process) on the vertebra next below it. this process, as on a pivot or axle, the uppermost vertebra turns in a circle, carrying the head along with it, as far as the attached muscles will permit. Thus are both motions perfect, without in the least interfering with each other.
The spine itself is a miracle of creative skill. What a number of purposes it serves! It must be flexible, yet firm, that the body it supports may have the power of bending, and also the power of maintaining an erect position. It must furnish a pipe for the lodgment and protection of the spinal cord, one of the most delicate substances