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composed, would have slept in its native bed. It has a purpose; and that purpose gives it its character. That purpose enrobes it with dignity and moral grandeur. That wellknown purpose it is which causes us to look up to it with a feeling of awe. It is itself the orator of this occasion. It is not from my lips, it could not be from any human lips, that that strain of eloquence is this day to flow, most competent to move and excite the vast multitudes around. The powerful speaker stands motionless before us. It is a plain shaft. It bears no inscriptions, fronting to the rising sun, from which the future antiquarian shall wipe the dust. Nor does the rising sun cause tones of music to issue from its summit. But at the rising of the sun, and at the setting of the sun, —in the blaze of noonday, and beneath the milder effulgence of lunar light, it looks, it speaks, it acts, to the full comprehension of every American mind, and the awakening of glowing enthusiasm in every American heart. Its silent, but awful utterance; its deep pathos, as it brings to our contemplation the 17th of June, 1775, and the consequences which have resulted to us, to our country, and to the world, from the events of that day, and which we know must continue to rain influence on the destinies of mankind to the end of time; the elevation with which it raises us high above the ordinary feelings of life, surpass all that the study of the closet, or even the inspiration of genius, can produce. Today it speaks to us. Its future auditories will be the successive generations of men, as they rise up before it, and gather around it. Its speech will be of patriotism and courage; of civil and religious liberty; of free government; of the moral improvement and elevation of mankind; and of the immortal memory of those who, with heroic devotion, have sacrificed their lives for their country.

In the older world, numerous fabrics still exist, reared by human hands, but whose object has been lost in the darkness of ages. They are now monuments of nothing but the labor and skill which constructed them.

The mighty pyramid itself, half buried in the sands of Africa, has nothing to bring down and report to us but the power of kings and the servitude of the people. If it had any purpose beyond that of a mausoleum, such purpose has perished from history and from tradition. If asked for its moral object, its admonition, its sentiment, its instruction to mankind, or any high end in its erection, it is silent- silent

as the millions which lie in the dust at its base, and in the catacombs which surround it. Without a just moral object, therefore, made known to man, though raised against the skies, it excites only conviction of power, mixed with strange wonder. But if the civilization of the present race of men, founded as it is in solid science, the true knowledge of nature, and vast discoveries in art, and which is stimulated and purified by moral sentiment and by the truths of Christianity, be not destined to destruction before the final termination of human existence on earth, the object and purpose of this edifice will be known till that hour shall come. And even

if civilization should be subverted, and the truths of the Christian religion obscured by a new deluge of barbarism, the memory of Bunker Hill and the American revolution will still be elements and parts of the knowledge which shall be possessed by the last man to whom the light of civilization and Christianity shall be extended.

CLXIII.-ADDRESS TO THE MUMMY IN BELZONI'S EXHIBITION, LONDON.

NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

[Horace Smith, a native of London, died in July, 1849, in the seventieth year of his age. In 1812, in conjunction with his elder brother, James Smith, he published a volume called Rejected Addresses, consisting of imitations of the popular poets of the day. It had great and deserved success, and has since been frequently reprinted. Horace Smith was a stock broker by profession; but in the leisure hours stolen from his employment, he wrote a number of works of fiction, which were received with considerable favor, and many contributions, both in verse and prose, to the magazines of the time. His poems have been collected and published in two volumes. He was & very amiable and estimable man in his personal character.]

AND thou hast walked about (how strange a story!)
In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago,
When the Memnonium † was in all its glory,

And time had not begun to overthrow
Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous,
Of which the very ruins are tremendous.

Speak! for thou long enough hast acted dummy;
Thou hast a tongue
come, let us hear its tune;
Thou'rt standing on thy legs, above ground, Mummy,
Revisiting the glimpses of the moon ;

Not like thin ghosts or disembodied creatures,

But with thy bones, and flesh, and limbs, and features.

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To whom should we assign the sphinx's fame?
Was Cheops or Cephrenes architect

Of either pyramid that bears his name ? ‡
Is Pompey's Pillar really a misnomer? §

Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer?

Perhaps thou wert a Mason, and forbidden

By oath to tell the mysteries of thy trade;

Then say what secret melody was hidden

In Memnon's statue, which at sunrise played. ||

Thebes was a celebrated city of Upper Egypt, of which extensive ruins till remain.

The Memnonium was a building combining the properties of a palace and a temple, the ruins of which are remarkable for symmetry of architecture and elegance of sculpture.

The pyramids are well-known structures near Cairo. According to Herodotus, the great pyramid, so called, was built by Cheops. He was succeeded by his brother Cephrenes, who, according to the same historian, built another of the pyramids.

§ Pompey's Pillar is a column near Alexandria. The name given to it has led to much criticism.

This was a statue at Thebes, said to utter at sunrise a sound like the breaking of a harpstring, or of a metallic wire.

Perhaps thou wert a priest; if so, my straggles
Are vain; Egyptian priest ne'er owned his juggles.

Perchance that very hand, now pinioned flat,

Has hob-a-nobbed with Pharaoh, glass to glass;
Or dropped a halfpenny in Homer's hat;

Or doffed thine own to let Queen Dido pass;
Or held, by Solomon's own invitation,
A torch at the great temple's dedication.

I need not ask thee if that hand, when armed,
Has any Roman soldier mauled and knuckled;
For thou wert dead, and buried, and embalmed,

Ere Romulus and Remus had been suckled: -
Antiquity appears to have begun

Long after thy primeval race was run.

Since first thy form was in this box extended,

We have, above ground, seen some strange mutations; The Roman empire has begun and ended ;

New worlds have risen - we have lost old nations, And countless kings have into dust been humbled, While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled.

Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head
When the great Persian conqueror, Cambyses,
Marched armies o'er thy tomb with thundering tread, *
O'erthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis, †

And shook the pyramids with fear and wonder,
When the gigantic Memnon fell asunder?

If the tomb's secrets may not be confessed,

The nature of thy private life unfold:

A heart has throbbed beneath that leathern breast,

* Egypt was conquered, 525 B. C., by Cambyses, the second king of Persia ↑ These are the names of Egyptian deities.

And tears adown that dusky cheek have rolled: :-
Have children climbed those knees, and kissed that face?
What were thy name and station, age and race?

Statue of flesh -immortal of the dead!
Imperishable type of evanescence!
Posthumous man, who quitt'st thy narrow bed,
And standest undecayed within our presence,
Thou wilt hear nothing till the judgment morning,
When the great trump shall thrill thee with its warning.

Why should this worthless tegument endure,
If its undying guest be lost forever?

O, let us keep the soul embalmed and pure

In living virtue; that when both must sever,
Although corruption may our frame consume,
The immortal spirit in the skies may bloom.

CLXIV.-LOCHIEL'S WARNING.

CAMPBELL.

[In 1745, Charles Edward, grandson of James II., landed in Scotland, and soon gathered around him an army with which he marched into England, in order to regain possession of the throne from which his ancestors had been driven. He was brilliantly successful at first, and penetrated into England as far as Derby; but he was then obliged to retreat, and, after many disasters, his army was entirely defeated by the English, under command of the Duke of Cumberland, at Culloden.

Lochiel, the head of the warlike clan of the Camerons, was one of the most powerful of the Highland chieftains, and a zealous supporter of the claims of Charles Edward. Among the Highlanders are certain persons supposed to have the gift of second sight; that is, the power of foreseeing future events. Lochiel, on his way to join Charles Edward, is represented as meeting one of these seers, who endeavors in vain to dis suade him from his purpose.]

Seer, Lochiel.

Seer. LOCHIEL, Lochiel, beware of the day When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array! For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight,

And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight:

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