glow of beauty--

"Thou art not conquered; beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there."

"While a plank of the vessel sticks together, I will not leave
her. Let the courtier present his flimsy sail, and carry the light
bark of his faith, with every new breath of wind--I will remain
anchored here--with fidelity to the fortunes of my country,
faithful to her freedom, faithful to her fall."

Of another character, but not less admirable than his eloquence in the
Senate, was Grattan's achievement with the pen. His description of the
great Lord Chatham lives as one of the most noble panegyrics--it not
the most noble--in the world. No writer, before or since, has offered
anyone such splendid homage as this--that he never sunk "to the
vulgar level of the great."

"The Secretary stood alone. Modern degeneracy had not reached him.
Original and unaccommodating, the features of his character had
the hardihood of antiquity, his august mind overawed majesty, and
one of his sovereigns thought royalty so impaired in his presence
that he conspired to remove him, in order to be relieved from his
superiority. No state chicanery, no narrow systems of vicious
politics, no idle contest for ministerial victories sunk him to
the vulgar level of the great; but, overbearing, persuasive, and
impracticable, his object was England,--his ambition was fame;
without dividing, he destroyed party; without corrupting, he made
a venal age unanimous; France sunk beneath him; with one hand he