of the many millions of her people of whom she had been despoiled by the avarice of our superior race. Whatever dif ference of opinion there may be concerning the principles and policy of the deceased, all men will now agree that he won among American statesmen, and eminently more than any other, the fame accorded to the most illustrious chevalier of France-the fame of a statesman sans peur et sans reproche.

6. It is fit that the death of such a citizen should be marked with all the testimonials of public grief, in order that his life may have its just influence on mankind. It is fit that it should be honored in this tribunal, the fame of which is not unknown throughout the world, and the records of which will remain forever. In behalf of the members of the bar, therefore, I move that such an expression be entered on the record, and that the court do then adjourn.

LESSON CXXII.

FRENCH AGGRESSIONS.

PAINE.

1. THE solemn oath of America has ascended to heaven. She has sworn to preserve her independence, her religion, and her laws, or nobly perish in their defense, and be buried in the wrecks of her empire. To the fate of our government is united the fate of our country. The convulsions that destroy the one, must desolate the other. Their destinies are interwoven, and they must triumph or fall together.

2. Where, then, is the man, so hardened in political iniquity, as to advocate the victories of French arms, which would render his countrymen slaves, or to promote the diffusion of French principles, which would render them savages? Can it be doubted, that the pike of a French soldier is less cruel and

ferocious than the fraternity of a French philosopher? Where is the youth in this assembly, who could, without agonized emotions, behold the Gallic invader hurling the brand of devastation into the dwelling of his father; or with sacrilegious cupidity plundering the communion table of his God?

3. Who could witness, without indignant desperation, the mother who bore him, inhumanly murdered in the defense of her infants? Who could hear, without frantic horror, the shrieks of a sister, flying from pollution, and leaping from the blazing roof, to impale herself on the point of a halberd? "If any, speak, for him I have offended!" No, my fellow-citizens, these scenes are never to be witnessed by American eyes. The sou. your ancestors still live in the bosom of their descendants; and rather than submit this fair land of their inheritance to ravage and dishonor, from hoary age to helpless infancy, they will form one united bulwark, and oppose their breasts to the assailing foe.

LESSON CXXIII.

REPLY TO WALPOLE.

PITT.

1. SIR, the atrocious crime of being a young man, which the honorable gentleman has, with such spirit and decency charged upon me, I shall neither attempt to palliate nor deny; but content myself with wishing that I may be one of those whose follies cease with their youth; and not of that number who are ignorant in spite of experience.

2. Whether youth can be imputed to any man as a reproach, I will not, sir, assume the province of determining; but surely, age may become justly contemptible, if the opportunities which it brings have passed away without improvement, and vice ap

The wretch

pears to prevail when the passions have subsided. who, after having seen the consequences of a thousand errors, continues still to blunder, and whose age has only added obstinacy to stupidity, is surely the object of either abhorrence or contempt, and deserves not that his gray hairs should secure him from insult. Much more, sir, is he to be abhorred, who, as he has advanced in age, has receded from virtue, and becomes more wicked with less temptation; who prostitutes himself for money which he cannot enjoy, and spends the remains of his life in the ruin of his country.

3. But youth, sir, is not my only crime. I have been accused of acting a theatrical part. A theatrical part may either imply some peculiarities of gesture; or, dissimilation of my real sentiments, and the adoption of the opinions and language of another man.

4. In the first sense the charge is too trifling to be confuted, and deserves only to be mentioned that it may be despised. I am at liberty, like every other man, to use my own language: and though I may, perhaps, have some ambition, yet to please this gentleman, I shall not lay myself under any restraint, nor very solicitously copy his diction, or his mien, however ma tured by age, or modeled by experience. If any man shall, by charging me with theatrical behavior, imply that I utter any sentiments but my own, I shall treat him as a calumniator and a villain; nor shall any protection shelter him from the treatment he deserves. I shall, on such an occasion, without scruple, trample upon all those forms with which wealth and dignity intrench themselves, nor shall anything but age re strain my resentment; age which always brings one privilege, that of being insolent and supercilious without punishment.

5. But with regard, sir, to those whom I have offended, I am of opinion, that if I had acted a borrowed part I should have avoided their censure; the heat that offended them was the ardor of conviction, and that zeal for the service of my

country, which neither hope nor fear shall influence me to suppress. I will not sit unconcerned while my liberty is invaded, nor look in silence upon public robbery. I will exert my endeavors, at whatever hazard, to repel the aggressor, and drag the thief to justice-whoever may protect them in their villainy, and whoever may partake of their plunder.

LESSON CXXIV.

THE IDIOT'S TRIAL.

SEWARD.

1. THERE is proof, gentlemen, stronger than all this. It is silent, yet speaking. It is that idiotic smile which plays continually on the face of the maniac. It took its seat there while he was in the state prison. In his solitary cell, under the pressure of his severe tasks and trials in the work-shop, and during the solemnities of public worship in the chapel, it appealed, although in vain, to his task-masters and his teachers. It is a smile, never rising into laughter, without motive or cause— -the smile of vacuity. His mother saw it when he came out of prison, and it broke her heart. John De Puy saw it and knew his brother was demented. Deborah De Puy observed it and knew him for a fool. David Winner read in it the ruin of his friend, Sally's son. It has never forsaken him in his later trials. He laughed in the face of Parker, while on confession at Baldwinsville. He laughed involuntarily in the faces of Warden, and Curtis, and Worden, and Austin, and Bigelow, and Smith, and Brigham, and Spencer.

Even when Van Arsdale assassin's knife, and when

2. He laughs perpetually here. showed the scarred traces of the Helen Holmes related the dreadful story of the murder of her patrons and friends, he laughed. He laughs while I am plead

ing his griefs. He laughs when the attorney-general's bolts would seem to rive his heart. He will laugh when you declare him guilty. When the judge shall proceed to the last fatal ceremony, and demand what he has to say why the sentence of the law should not be pronounced upon him, although there should not be an unmoistened eye in this vast assembly, and the stern voice addressing him should tremble with emotion, he will even then look up in the face of the court and laugh, from the irresistible emotions of a shattered mind, delighted and lost in the confused memory of absurd and ridiculous as sociations.

3. Follow him to the scaffold. The executioner cannot disturb the calmness of the idiot. He will laugh in the agony of death. Do you not know the significance of this strange and unnatural risibility? It is a proof that God does not forsake even the poor wretch whom we pity or despise. There are, in every human memory, a well of joys and a fountain of sorrows. Disease opens wide the one, and seals up the other forever.

LESSON CXXV.

WRONGS OF THE INDIANS.

STORY.

1. Ir the Indians had the vices of savage life, they had the virtues also. They were true to their country, their friends, and their homes. If they forgave not injury, neither did they forget kindness. If their vengeance was terrible, their fidelity and generosity were unconquerable also. Their love, like their hate, stopped not on this side of the grave. But where are they? Where are the villages, and warriors, and youth? The sachems and the tribes? The hunters and their families?