THE SPIRIT OF MARYLAND IN 1794.

[The following Song was composed for S. Hanson, Esq. of Alexandria, and sung by him as President, at a public dinner, July 4th, 1794, at which General Washington was present.The following memorandum in the hand-writing of the author, Chancellor Kilty, accompanies the original copy:

"At the first verse, which is copied from the old English Song, the English merchants and tories were much pleased, and crowded to the head of the table, and General Washington showed some surprise-at the third verse they resumed their places."]*

WHEN Britain first at Heaven's command,

Arose from out the azure main,

This was the charter of the land

And guardian Angels sung the strain;

Rule Britannia, Britannia rule the waves,

For Britons never shall be slaves."

*This Song was presented by a niece of Chancellor Kilty, as not being known to exist in print;-it forms the only exception to articles from living authors offered expressly for this volume, except in the Introduction -EDITOR.

Twas thus, when rival nations strove,

Ere Freedom's sacred name was known, That, ardent with their country's love,

And claiming Ocean as their own,

They sung Britannia, Britannia rule the waves,
For Britons never shall be slaves."

But wherefore Britons rule the waves;
Why grasp the wide extended sea;
Must all the world beside, be slaves,
That only Britons may be free?

Hence, then Britannia no more shall rule the waves;
Nor see the Nations round her slaves.

On every coast, on every shore,

The bounteous sea her treasure spreads; To countless millions wafts her store,

Nor tribute pays to crowned Heads;

Hence, then Britannia, no longer rule the waves,
Nor seek to make thy equals slaves.

For see! Columbia's sons arise;

Firm, independent, bold and free;

They too shall seize the glorious prize,

And share the Empire of the sea;

Hence, then, let freemen, let freemen rule the waves; And those who yield them still be slaves.

This glorious day which still shall live
Illustrious, in the book of fame;

This day revolving, still shall give

A kindling spark of freedom's flame.

And we as freemen, we'll use, not rule the waves,
Nor own a power to make us slaves.

And still on this auspicious day,

Like friends and brethren, let us join

In concert tune the festive lay,

Sacred to Liberty, divine,

Which still will guard us in land and on the waves,

Determined never to be slaves.

Nor on this day let memory fail,
To celebrate each Hero slain;

With Patriot tears their fate bewail;

Who died our freedom to obtain.

Which may we cherish in land and on the waves,
Nor change from freemen to be slaves.

But chiefly him whose faithful toils

Led us to Liberty and Peace,

On whom America still smiles

With gratitude that ne'er shall cease;

Long may the Hero live, who still his Country saves,

Nor ever let him see us slaves.

FIELD LILIES.

OUT of the most terrible of all human calamities, a civil war, a mysterious Providence elicits greatness, freedom and progress for a nation; and from the depths of individual suffering are brought up some of the brightest and rarest gems of character. In the hearts of the bereaved, (and this expression includes almost every person, either directly or remotely,) there has yet been a consolation in the thought of the noble qualities that sought activity in a struggle for right and freedom, against misrule and barbarism; and the mourner has said through all her tears for the slain, that it was "sweet and becoming to die for one's country." Even through the mist of blood and darkness that has hung over the land for the last three years, we can see the effect of this fiery baptism on the character of our people. Especially is it seen in the class of young women; and we might naturally expect this to be the case. Our women do not

go merely as nurses to soldiers,they go to bind up the wounds of brother, cousin, lover. In the veins of

this northern army, bivouacked on morasses, rushing up against cannon, or sleeping exhausted on weltering fields, runs the blood of our noblest and best families, and invisible cords bind every beating heart on the battlefield to the warm hearth-stone of home, and the loving looks of wife, sisters, and parents.

As there never was such an army before, of unbought patriotism and fervent enthusiasm for national honor, so there never was a more beautiful corresponding effect on the character of our women. The Spartan mothers said as they handed shields to their departing warriors, "Return with it, or on it!" The Roman and Grecian soldiers marched away to rapine or conquest, cheered by the wild songs of Bacchantes and inspired by dusky Delphic prophecies. Our youth go, calmly and resolutely, with the patience and set purpose of their pilgrim ancestors, to the defence of all that is best and noblest in national character. They go with eyes wide open to all the possible results of the conflict, but with hope and determination stronger than the fear of death. Their battle-flag is the sign not only of victory, but of all that makes victory worth having, and "God save the grand old Stripes and Stars" stirs every drop of heroic blood, and gives the world assurance of a man!

Such lovers, husbands and fathers leave women of a corresponding type behind them to encourage, to strengthen,