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I mean the men
The man that

men that can stand still and take the storm.

that are afraid to kill, but not afraid to die. calls hard names and uses threats; the man that stabs, in secret, with his tongue or with his pen; the man that moves a mob to deeds of violence and self-destruction; the man that freely offers his last drop of blood, but never sheds the first: these aze not the men to make a state.

4. THE MEN, TO MAKE A STATE, MUST BE RELIGIOUS MEN. States are from God. States are dependent upon God. States are accountable to God. To leave God out of states, is to be Atheists. I do not mean that men must cant. I do not mean that men must wear long faces. I do not mean that men must talk of conscience, while they take your spoons. One shrewdly called hypocrisy, the tribute which vice pays to virtue. These masks and vizors, in like manner, are the forced concession which a moral nature makes to him, whom, at the same time, it dishonors. I speak of men who feel and own a God. I speak of men who feel and own their sins. I speak of men who think the Cross no shame. I speak of men who have it in their heart as well as on their brow. The men that own no future, the men that trample on the Bible, the men that never pray, are not the men to make a state.

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5. THE MEN, TO MAKE A STATE, ARE MADE BY FAITH. man that has no faith, is so much flesh. His heart, a muscle; nothing more. He has no past, for reverence; no future, for reliance. He lives. So does a clam. Both die. Such men can never make a state. There must be faith, which furnishes the fulcrum Archimedes* could not find, for the long lever that should move the world. There must be faith to look through clouds and storms up to the sun that shines as cheerily on high as on creation's morn. There must be faith that can lay hold on Heaven, and let the earth swing from beneath it, if God will. There must be faith that can afford to sink the present in the future; and let time go, in its strong grasp apon eternity. This is the way that men are made, to make a state.

* AR CHI ME DES, a celebrated mathematician of antiquity, born on the island of Sicily about the year 287 before Christ.

6. THE MEN, TO MAKE A STAte, are made BY SELF-DENIAL The willow dallies with the water, and is fanned forever by its coolest breeze, and draws its waves up in continual pulses of refreshment and delight; and is a willow, after all. Au acorn has been loosened, some autumnal morning, by a squirrel's foot. It finds a nest in some rude cleft of an old granite rock, where there is scarcely earth to cover it. It knows no shelter, and it feels no shade. It squares itself against the storms. It shoulders through the blast. It asks no favor, and gives none. It grapples with the rock. It crowds up toward the sun. It is an oak. It has been seventy years an oak. It will be an oak for seven times seventy years; unless you need a man-of-war to thunder at the foe that shows a fag upon the shore, where freemen dwell: and then you take no willow in its daintiness and gracefulness; but that old, hardy, storm-stayed and storm-strengthened oak. So are the men made that will make a state.

7. THE MEN, TO MAKE A STATE, ARE THEMSELVES MADE BY OBEDIENCE. Obedience is the health of human hearts: obedience to God; obedience to father and to mother, who are, to children, in the place of God; obedience to teachers and to masters, who are in the place of father and of mother; obedience to spiritual pastors, who are God's ministers; and to the powers that be, which are ordained of God. Obedience is but self-government in action: and he can never govern men who does not govern first himself. Only such men can make a state.

EXERCISE XXII.

JOHANN CHRISTOPH FRIEDRICH SCHILLER, one of the best of German poetr and historians, was born in Würtemberg in the year 1759, and died in 1805. "The primary vocation of his nature," says Carlyle, "was poctry; the acquisitions of his other faculties served but as the materials for his poetical faculty to act upon, and seemed imperfect till they had been sublimated into the perfect forms of beauty, which it is the business of this to elicit from them."

EDWARD LYTTON BULWER, Lord Lytton, the celebrated English novelist und politician, was born in the county of Norfolk, in 1805. He is the

author of many works, and, among them, one entitled "Poems and Ballads of Schiller," being translations from the German into English meter. From this work we take the following very interesting piece.

1 CHARYB'DIS (ka ryb dis), a whirlpool between Italy and Sicily, said, in ancient times, to have been very dangerous; hence, generally, a gulf, or whirlpool.

2 MAEL'STROM (male strum) is, literally, a mill-stream; the fearful vortex, or whirlpool off the coast of Norway, being so called because of its violent whirling motion. The word is thence often applied, like Charybdis, to any dangerous gulf, or whirlpool.

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"Oh, where is the knight or the squire so bold
As to dive to the howling Charybdis1 below?-
I cast in the whirlpool a goblet of gold,

And o'er it already the dark waters flow;
Whoever to me may the goblet bring,

Shall have for his guerdon that gift of his king."

II.

He spoke, and the cup from the terrible steep,
That, rugged and hoary, hung over the verge
Of the endless and measureless world of the deep,

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Swirled into the maëlstrom that maddened the surge. "And where is the diver so stout to go

I ask ye again-to the deep below?"

III.

And the knights and the squires that gathered around,
Stood silent-and fixed on the ocean their eyes;

They looked on the dismal and savage Profound,
And the peril chilled back every thought of the prize
And thrice spoke the monarch-"The cup to win,
Is there never a wight who will venture in ?"

IV.

And all, as before, heard in silence the king,
Till a youth with an aspect unfearing but gentle,
'Mid the tremulous squires-stepped out from the ring,
Uabuckling his girdle, and doffing his mantle;
And the murmuring crowd, as they parted asunder,
On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder.

V.

As he strode to the marge of the summit, and gave
One glance on the gulf of that merciless main,
Lo! the wave that forever devours the wave,
Casts roaringly up the Charybdis again;

And, as with the swell of the far thunder-boom,
Rushes foamingly forth from the heart of the gloom.

VI.

And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,
As when fire is with water commixed and contending,
And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars,
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending;
And it never will rest, nor from travail be free,
Like a sea that is laboring the birth of a sea.

VII.

Yet, at length, comes a lull o'er the mighty commotion,
And dark through the whiteness, and still through the swell,
The whirlpool cleaves downward and downward in ocean,
A yawning abyss, like the pathway to hell;

The stiller and darker the farther it goes,
Sucked into that smoothness the breakers repose.

VIII.

The youth gave his trust to his Maker! Before

That path through the riven abyss closed again,

Hark! a shriek from the gazers that circle the shore,--
And, behold! he is whirled in the grasp of the main !
And o'er him the breakers mysteriously rolled,

And the giant mouth closed on the swimmer so bold.

IX.

All was still on the hight, save the murmur that went
From the grave of the deep, sounding hollow and fell,
Or save when the tremulous sighing lament

Thrilled from lip unto lip,-" Gallant youth, fare thee well l'
More hollow and more wails the deep on the ear-
More dread and more dread grows suspense in its fear.

X.

If thou shouldst in those waters thy diadem fling,
And cry,—“ Who may find it, shall win it and wear;
God wot, though the prize were the crown of a king—
A crown, at such hazard, were valued too dear.
For never shall lips of the living reveal

What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal.

XI.

Oh, many a bark, to that breast grappled fast,

Has gone down to the fearful and fathomless grave, Again, crashed together the keel and the mast,

To be seen tossed aloft in the glee of the wave! Like the growth of a storm, ever louder and clearer, Grows the roar of the gulf rising nearer and nearer.

XII.

And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,
As when fire is with water commixed and contending;
And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars,
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending,
And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom,
Rushes roaringly forth from the heart of the gloom.

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