and breathes its fragrance upon the air in vain he likes it not. His ear no
longer drinks the rich melody of music; it longs for the trumpet's clangor,
and the cannon's roar. Even the prattle of his babes, once so sweet, no
longer affects him; and the angel smile of his wife, which hitherto touched
his bosom with ecstasy so unspeakable, is now unfelt and unseen. Greater
objects have taken possession of his soul. His imagination has been dazzled
by visions of diadems, and stars, and garters, and titles of nobility. He
has been taught to burn with restless emulation at the names of great
heroes and conquerors,--of Cromwell, and Casar, and Bonaparte. His
enchanted island is destined soon to relapse into a wilderness; and, in a
few months, we find the tender and beautiful partner of his bosom, whom he
lately "permitted not the winds" of summer "to visit too roughly,"--we
find her shivering, at midnight, on the wintry banks of the Ohio, and
mingling her tears with the torrents that froze as they fell.

Yet this unfortunate man, thus deluded from his interest and his
happiness,--thus seduced from the paths of innocents and peace,--thus
confounded in the toils which were deliberately spread for him, and
overwhelmed by the mastering spirit and genius of another,--this man, thus
ruined and undone, and made to play a subordinate part in this grand drama
of guilt and treason,--this man is to be called the principal offender;
while he, by whom he was thus plunged in misery, is comparatively innocent,
a mere accessory! Is this reason? Is it law? Is it humanity? Sir, neither
the human heart nor the human understanding will bear a perversion so
monstrous and absurd; so shocking to the soul; so revolting to reason!
Wm. Wirt.


LII.