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��But a Sup.

��published works on farming, sheep rais- ing, and agriculture ; and of his benefac- tions to the American Academy of Fine Arts, which was established through his efforts and aid, — space prevents our speaking.

His death occurred in 1813, at the end of a career nearly fifty years of which had been passed in the service of his native State, and the Union which his efforts had established. Judged by ability, education, and the success of his life, Robert R. Livingston belonged, perhaps, to the class of statesmen of which John Jay, John Marshall, and John Adams were representatives. It was not his fortune, like Hamilton and Jefferson, to establish a great political party, nor like Washington to become the idol of all future generations ; but estimated by the great results which his influence helped to bring about, Living- ston deserved a rank not far below that of Washington, Jefferson, and Hamilton.

��The statesman who was a member of the committee to frame the Decla- ration of Independence, the secretary of foreign affairs during the Revolution- ary war, the draughter of the first con- stitution of New York, and the first chancellor of his native State, deserved the gratitude of mankind. But Robert R. Livingston did more than that. To his efforts we owe the very existence of our Union ; to him the Republican party of his time was indebted for its first success, for its first induction into the offices of government ; Chancellor Livingston we must thank for our vast territory beyond the Mississippi ; and perhaps not the least of the great ser- vices for which he deserves our lasting gratitude was his introduction of steam navigation on the waters of the Hudson.

" May the name of Robert R. Living- ston be rescued from the oblivion that now impends ! "

Provincetown, Mass., 1885.

��BUT A STEP.

��A GIANT precipice, whose rugged face bold fronts the lashing sea,

Which writhes and roars, and strives to mount, but then perforce must flee ;

Stolid and grand, forever it stands with many a ghastly tear,

Where fearlessly the sea-birds build, and ser- pents make their lair ;

At its foot a raging, seething cauldron, boil- ing with briny foam,

Darksome and deep and doleful, seems of fiends a fitting home ;

But, above, the rugged monster slopes to a sweet and gent''? lea,

Bedecked with bright and blooming flowers, beloved of bird and bee.

O'er all bends the smiling blue-arched heav- ens, picked out with feathery white.

Towards which the screaming sea-birds re- joicing wing their flight.

Poised fearlessly on its highest peak, great God of mercy ! stands

A laughing, prattling infant boy, a bright moth in his hands.

��There stands the babe in breathless, boyish

glee, his trophy in his clasp. Nor knows, nor fears, that ghastly Death longs

his fair form to grasp ; And just beyond, the frighted mother kneels,

her heart with anguish numb. Pleading the while, with pretty wiles, that to

her arms he'll come.

From beneath his golden curling lashes his

sparkling blue eyes peep. Watching to see if "weal and tue " his mother

dear doth weep. His smiles are flown, his tiny bosom heaves,

his feet scarce touch a flower. And he is in his mother's arms, saved ! and

by love's sweet power. Thus upon life's precipice we dally, nor fear

Death's chilling stream. We chase the pleasures of the hour, and little

do we dream It were but a step to tide us o'er to that great

and unknown land ; But the loving great God holds us i' the hol- low of his hand.

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