ON THE GENERAL JUDGMENT-DAY; FROM DWIGHT'S CONQUEST OF CANAAN.

M

ID these dire scenes, more awful scenes shall rise;
Sad nations quake, and trembling seize the skies.
From the dark tomb shall fearful lights ascend,
And sullen sounds the sleeping mansion rend;
Pale ghosts with terror break the dreamer's charm,
And death-like cries the listening world alarm.
Then midnight pangs shall toss the cleaving plains;
Fell famine wanton o'er unburied trains;
From crumbling mountains baleful flames aspire ;
Realms sink in floods, and towns dissolve in fire ;
In every blast, the spotted plague be driven,
And angry meteors blaze athwart the heaven.
Clouds of dark blood shall blot the sun's broad light,
Spread round th' immense, and shroud the world in night;
With pale and dreadful ray, the cold moon gleam ;
The dim, lone stars diffuse an anguish'd beam;
Storms rock the skies; afflicted oceans roar,
And sanguine billows die the shuddering shore;
And round earth thunder, from th' Almighty throne,
The voice irrevocable, IT IS DONE.

Rous'd on the fearful morn, shall nature hear
The trump's deep terrors rend the troubled air;
From realm to realm the sound tremendous roll ;
Cleave the broad main, and shake th' astonish'd pole ;
The slumbering bones th' archangel's call inspire;.
Rocks sink in dust, and earth be wrapt in fire;
From realms far distant, orbs unnumber'd come,
Sail through immensity, and learn their doom:
And all yon changeless stars, that, thron'd on high,
Reign in immortal lustre round the sky,
In solemn silence shroud their living light,
And leave the world to undistinguish'd night.

Hark, what dread sounds descending from the pole,
Wave following wave, in swelling thunders roll!
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How

How the tombs cleave! What awful forms arise!
What crowding nations pain the failing eyes!
From land to land behold the mountains rend;
From shore to shore the final flames ascend;
Round the dark poles with boundless terror reign,
With bend immeasurable sweep the main;
From morn's far kingdoms stretch to realms of even,
And climb and climb with solemn roar to heaven.
What smoky ruins wrapt the lessening ground!
What fiery sheets sail through the vaulted round!
Pour'd in one mass, the lands and seas decay;
Involv'd, the heavens, dissolving, fleet away;
The moon departs; the sun's last beams expire,
And nature's buried in the boundless fire.

Lo, from the radiance of the bless'd abode
Messiah comes, in all the pomp of God!
Borne on swift winds, a storm before him flies;
Stars crown his head, and rainbows round him rise;
Beneath his feet a sun's broad terrors burn,

And cleaving darkness opes a dreadful morn :
Through boundless space careering flames are driven;
Truth's sacred hosts descend, and all the thrones of

heaven.

See crowding millions, call'd from earth's far ends,
See hell's dark world, with fearful gloom, ascends,
In throngs incomprehensible! Around,.

Worlds after worlds, from nature's farthest bound,
Call'd by th' archangel's voice from either pole,
Self-mov'd, with all created nations, roll.
From this great train, his eyes the just divide,
Price of his life, and being's fairest pride;
Rob'd by his mighty hand, the starry throngs
From harps of transport call ecstatic songs.
Hail, heirs of endless peace! ordain'd to rove
Round the pure climes of everlasting love.
For you the sun first led the lucid morn;
The world was fashion'd and Messiah born;
For you high heaven with fond impatience waits,
Pours her fair streams, and opes her golden gates;

Each

Each hour, with purer glory, gaily shines,
Her courts enlarges, and her air refines,

But O unhappy race! to woes consign'd,
Lur'd by fond pleasure, and to wisdom blind,
What new Messiah shall the spirit save,

Stay the pent flames, and shut th' eternal grave?
Where sleeps the music of his voice divine?
Where hides the face, that could so sweetly shine?
Now hear that slighted voice to thunder turn!
See that mild face with flames of vengeance burn!
High o'er your heads the storm of ruin roars,
And, round th' immense, no friend your fate deplores.
Lo, there to endless woe in throngs are driven,
What once were angels, and bright stars of heaven!
The world's gay pride! the king with splendor crown'd!
The chief resistless, and the sage renown'd!

Down, down, the millions sink; where yon broad main
Heaves her dark waves, and spreads the seats of pain;
Where long, black clouds, emblaz'd with awful fire,
Pour sullen round their heads, and in dread gloom retire.

ON THE WORKS OF CREATION AND PROVI

WHE

DENCE.

HEN I contemplate those ample and magnificent structures, erected over all the ethereal plains when I look upon them as so many repositories of light, or fruitful abodes of life: when I remember that there may be other orbs, vastly more remote than those which appear to our unaided sight; orbs, whose effulgence, though travelling ever since the creation, is not yet arrived upon our coasts: when I stretch my thoughts to the innumerable orders of being, which inhabit all those spacious systems; from the loftiest seraph, to the lowest reptile; from the armies of angels which surround the Almighty's throne, to the funy nations, which tinge with purple the surface of the plum, or in antle the standing pool with green; how various

appear

appear the links of this immeasurable chain! how vast the gradations in this universal scale of existence ! Yet all these, though ever so vast and various, are the work of the Creator's hand, and are full of his presence.

He rounded in his palm those stupendous globes, which are pendulous in the vault of heaven. He kindled those astonishingly bright fires, which fill the firmament with a flood of glory. By Him they are suspended in fluid ether, and cannot be shaken: by Him they dispense a perpetual tide of beams, and are never exhausted. He formed, with inexpressible nicety, that delicately fine collection of tubes; that unknown multiplicity of subtile springs, which organize and actuate the frame of the minutest insect.

He bids the crimson current roll; the vital movements play; and associates a world of wonders, even in an animated point. In all these is a signal exhibition of creating power; to all these are extended the special regards of preserving goodness. From hence let me learn to rely on the providence, and to revere the presence, of Supreme Majesty. Amidst that inconceivable number and variety of beings, which smarm through the regions of creation, not one is overlooked, not one is neglected, by the great Omnipotent Cause of all.

SPEECH OF MR. Fox, IN THE BRITISH PARLIAMENT, ON AMERICAN AFFAIRS, 1778.

You

OU have now two wars before you, of which you must choose one, for both you cannot support. The war against America has hitherto been carried on against her alone, unassisted by any ally whatever. Notwithstanding she stood alone, you have been obliged uniformly to increase your exertions, and to push your efforts to the extent of your power, without being able to bring it to an issue. You have exerted all your force hitherto without effect, and you cannot now divide a force, found already inadequate to its object.

My

My opinion is for withdrawing your forces from America entirely; for a defensive war you can never think of there. A defensive war would ruin this nation at any time and in any dircumstances, offensive war is pointed out as proper for this country; our situation points it out; and the spirit of the nation impels us to attack rather than defend. Attack France, then, for she is your object. The nature of the wars is quite different the war against America is against your own countrymen; you have stopped me from saying against your fellow-subjects; that against France is against your inveterate enemy and rival. Every blow you strike in America is against yourselves; it is against all idea of reconciliation, and against your own interest, though you should be able, as you never will be, to force them to submit. Every stroke against France is of advantage to you: America must be conquered in France; France never can be conquered in America.

The war of the Americans is a war of passion; it is of such a nature as to be supported by the most powerful virtues, love of liberty and of their country; and at the same time, by those passions in the human heart which give courage, strength, and perseverance to man; the spirit of revenge for the injuries you have done them; of retaliation for the hardships you have inflicted on them; and of opposition to the unjust powers you have exercised over them. Every thing combines to animate them to this war, and such a war is without end; for whatever obstinacy, enthusiasm ever inspired man with, you will now find in America. No matter what gives birth to that enthusiasm; whether the name of religion or of liberty, the effects are the same; it inspires a spirit which is unconquerable, and solicitous to undergo difficulty, danger, and hardship: and as long as there is a man in America, a being formed such as we are, you will have him present himself against you in the field.

The war of France is a war of another sort; the war of France is a war of interest: it was her interest which first induced her to engage in it, and it is by that inter

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est