UNION LINKED WITH LIBERTY.-ANDREW JACKSON.

Without Union, our independence and liberty would never have been achieved; without Union, they can never be maintained. Divided into twenty-four, or even a smaller number of separate communities, we shall see our internal trade burdened with numberless restraints and exactions; communication between distant points and sections obstructed, or cut off; our sons made soldiers, to deluge with blood the fields they now till in peace; the mass of our people borne down and impoverished by taxes to support armies and navies; and military leaders, at the head of their victorious legions, becoming our lawgivers and judges. The loss of liberty, of all good government, of peace, plenty, and happiness, must inevitably follow a dissolution of the Union. In supporting it therefore, we support all that is dear to the freeman and the philanthropist.

The time at which I stand before you is full of interest. The eyes of all nations are fixed on our Republic. The event of the existing crisis will be decisive, in the opinion of mankind, of the practicability of our Federal system of Government. Great is the stake placed in our hands; great is the responsibility which must rest upon the people of the United States. Let us realize the importance of the attitude in which we stand before the world. Let us exercise forbearance and firmness. Let us extricate our country from the dangers which surround it, and learn wisdom from the lessons they inculcate. Deeply impressed with the truth of these observations, and under the obligation of that solemn oath which I am about to take, I shall continue to exert all my faculties to maintain the just powers of the Constitution, and to transmit unimpaired to posterity the blessings of our Federal Union.

At the same time it will be my aim to inculcate, by my of ficial acts, the necessity of exercising, by the General Government, those powers only that are clearly delegated; to encourage simplicity and economy in the expenditures of the Government; to raise no more money from the people than may be requisite for these objects, and in a manner that will

best promote the interesis of all classes of the community, and of all portions of the Union. Constantly bearing in mind that, in entering into society, "individuals must give up a share of liberty to preserve the rest," it will be my desire so to discharge my duties as to foster with our brethren, in all parts of the country, a spirit of liberal concession and compromise; and, by reconciling our fellow-citizens to those partial sacrifices which they must unavoidably make, for the preservation of a greater good, to recommend our invaluable Government and Union to the confidence and affections of the American people. Finally, it is my most fervent prayer to that Almighty Being before whom I now stand, and who has kept us in his hands from the infancy of our Republic to the present day, that he will so overrule all my intentions and actions, and inspire the hearts of my fellow-citizens, that we may be preserved from dangers of all kinds, and continue forever a UNITED AND HAPPY PEople.

TIM TWINKLETON'S TWINS.-CHARLES A. BELL.

Tim Twinkleton was, I would have you to know,
A cheery-faced tailor, of Pineapple Row;
His sympathies warm as the irons he used,
And his temper quite even, because not abused.

As a fitting reward for his kindness of heart,

He was blessed with a partner both comely and smart,
And ten "olive branches,"-four girls and six boys-
Completed the household, divided its joys.

But another "surprise" was in store for Tim T.,
Who, one bright Christmas morning was sipping coffee,
When a neighbor (who acted as nurse,) said with glee,
You've just been presented with twins! Do you see?"
"Good gracious!" said Tim, overwhelmed with surprise,
For he scarce could be made to believe his own eyes;
His astonishment o'er, he acknowledged of course
That the trouble, indeed, might have been a deal worse.

The twins were two boys, and poor Tim was inclined
To believe them the handsomest pair you could find,

WW

But fathers' and mothers' opinions, they say
Always favor their own children just the same way.
"Would you like to step up, sir, to see Mrs. T.?"
The good lady said; "she's as pleased as can be."
Of course the proud father dropp'd both fork and knife,
And bounded up stairs to embrace his good wife.

Now, Mrs. Tim Twinkleton-I should have said—
An industrious, frugal life always had led,
And kept the large family from poverty's woes,
By washing, and starching, and ironing clothes.
But, before the young twins had arrived in the town,
She'd intended to send to a family named Brown,
Who resided some distance outside of the city,
A basket of clothes; so she thought it a pity

That the basket should meet any further delay,
And told Tim to the depot to take it that day.
He promised he would, and begun to make haste,

For he found that there was not a great while to waste.
So, kissing his wife, he bade her good-bye,

And out of the room in an instant did hie;

He met the good nurse on the stairs, coming up

With the "orthodox gruel," for his wife, in a cup.`

"Where's the twins?" said the tailor. "Oh, they are all right,"
The good nurse replied; "they are looking so bright!
I've hushed them to sleep,—they look so like their Pop,-~-
And I've left them down stairs, where they sleep like a top."
In a hurry Tim shouldered the basket, and got
To the rail-station, after a long and sharp trot,

And he'd just enough time to say "Brown-Norristown-
A basket of clothes-" and then the train was gone.

The light-hearted tailor made haste to return,
For his heart with affection for his family did burn;
And it's always the case, with a saint or a sinner,
Whate'er may occur, he's on hand for his dinner.
"How are the twins?" was his first inquiry;
"I've hurried home quickly my darlings to see,"
In ecstasy quite of his reason bereft.

"Oh, the dear little angels hain't cried since you left!

"Have you, my sweets?"-and the nurse turned to where

Just a short time before, were her objects of care.

"Why-which of you children," said she with surprise,

Removed that ar basket?-now don't tell no lies!"

"Basket! what basket?" cried Tim with affright;

"Why, the basket of clothes-I thought it all right To put near the fire, and, fearing no harm,

Placed, the twins in so cozy, to keep them quite warm.”

Poor Tim roared aloud: "Why, what have I done?
You surely must mean what you say but in fun!
That basket! my twins I shall ne'er see again!
Why, I sent them both off by the 12 o'clock train!
The nurse, at these words, sank right into a chair

And exclaimed, “O my preciouses dear, you hain't there! Go, Twinkleton, go, telegraph like wildfire!"

"Why," said Tim, "they can't send the twins home on the wire !”

"Oh dear!" cried poor Tim, getting ready to go;
"Could ever a body have met with such woe?
Sure this is the greatest of greatest mistakes;
Why, the twins will be all squashed down into pancakes!”
Tim Twinkleton hurried as if all creation

Were after him, quick, on his way to the station.
"That's the man,-O you wretch!" and, tight as a rasp,
Poor Tim found himself in a constable's grasp.

"Ah! ha! I have got yer, now don't say a word,
Yer know very well about what has occurred;
Come 'long to the station-house, hurry up now,
Or 'tween you and me there'll be a big row."
"What's the charge?" asked the tailor of the magistrate,
"I'd like to find out, for it's getting quite late;"
"So you shall," he replied, but don't look so meek,-
You deserted your infants,-now hadn't you cheek?”
Now it happened that, during the trial of the case,
An acquaintance of Tim's had stepped into the place,
And he quickly perceived, when he heard in detail
The facts of the case, and said he'd go bail

To any amount, for good Tim Twinkleton,
For he knew he was innocent, "sure as a gun."
And the railway-clerk's evidence, given in detail,
Was not quite sufficient to send him to jail.

It was to effect, that the squalling began
Just after the basket in the baggage-van

Had been placed by Tim T., who solemnly swore
That he was quite ignorant of their presence before.

So the basket was brought to the magistrate's sight,
And the twins on the top of the clothes looked so bright,
That the magistrate's heart of a sudden enlarged,
And he ordered that Tim Twinkleton be discharged.

Tim grasped up the basket and ran for dear life,

And when he reached home he first asked for his wife;

But the nurse said with joy, "Since you left she has slept,
And from her the mistakes of to-day I have kept."
Poor Tim, and the nurse, and all the small fry,

Before taking dinner, indulged in a cry.

The twins are now grown, and they time and again
Relate their excursion on the railway train.

MAN MAY BE HAPPY.-PETER PINDAR.

"Man may be happy, if he will:"
I've said it often, and I think so still;
Doctrine to make the million stare!

Know then, each mortal is an actual Jove:
Can brew what weather he shall most approve,
Or wind, or calm, or foul, or fair.

But here's the mischief-man's an ass, I

say;

Too fond of thunder, lightning, storm, and rain;

He hides the charming, cheerful ray

That spreads a smile o'er hill and plain!

Dark, he must court the skull, and spade, and shroudThe mistress of his soul must be a cloud.

Who told him that he must be cursed on earth?
The God of Nature?-No such thing;

Heaven whispered him, the moment of his birth,
"Don't cry, my lad, but dance and sing;
Don't be too wise, and be an ape:-

In colors let thy soul be dressed, not crape.

"Roses shall smooth life's journey, and adorn;
Yet mind me-if, through want of grace,
Thou mean'st to fling the blessing in my face,
Thou hast full leave to tread upon a thorn.”

Yet some there are, of men, I think the worst,
Poor imps! unhappy if they can't be cursed-
Forever brooding over Misery's eggs,

As though life's pleasure were a deadly sin;
Mousing forever for a gin

To catch their happiness by the legs.

Even at a dinner some will be unblessed,
However good the viands, and well dressed:
They always come to table with a scowl,
Squint with a face of verjuice o'er each dish,
Fault the poor flesh, and quarrel with the fish,
Curse cook and wife, and, loathing, eat and growl.

A cart-load, lo! their stomachs steal,
Yet swear they cannot make a meal.
I like not the blue-devil-hunting crew!
I hate to drop the discontented jaw!
Oh! let me Nature's simple smile pursue,
And pick even pleasure from a straw.