732. POLITICAL CORRUPTION. We are apt to treat the idea of our own corruptibility, as utterly visionary, and to ask, with a grave affectation of dignity-what! do you think a member of congress can be corrupted? Sir, I speak, what I have long and deliberately considered, when I say, that since man was created, there never has been a political body on the face of the earth, that would not be corrupted under the same circumstances. Corruption steals upon us, in a thousand insidious forms, when we are least aware of its approaches.

Without it, human affairs would become a mere stagnant pool. By means of his patronage, the president addresses himself in the most irresistible manner, to this the noblest and strongest of our passions. All that the imagination can desire--honor, power, wealth, ease, are held out as the temptation Man was not made to resist such temptation. It is impossible to conceive,--Satan himself could not devise, a system, which would more infallibly introduce corruption and death into our political Eden. Sir, the angels fell frou heaven with less temptation.-McDuffie.

Of all the forms, in which it can present itself, the bribery of office-is the most dangerous, because it assumes the guise of patriotism-to accomplish its fatal sorcery. We are often asked, where is the evidence of corruption? Have you seen it? Sir, do you expect to see it? You might, as well, expect to see the embodied forms of pestilence, and famine-stalking before you, as to see the latent operations of this insidious power. WeTis Heaven itself, that points out-a hereafter, may walk amidst it, and breathe its contagion, without being conscious of its presence.

733. CATO'S SOLILOQUY ON IMMORTALITY.

It must be so-Plato, thou reasonest well!
Else, whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing-after immortality?
Or, whence-this secret dread, and inward horror,
Of falling-into nought? Why-shrinks the soul—
Back on herself, and startles-at destruction?-
Tis the Divinity-that stirs within us:

All experience teaches us-the irresistible power of temptation, when vice-assumes the form of virtue. The great enemy of mankind-could not have consummated his infernal scheme, for the seduction of our first parents, but for the disguise, in which he presented himself. Had he appeared as the devil, in his proper form: had the spear of Ithuriel-disclosed the naked deformity of the fiend of hell, the inhabitants of paradise would have shrunk with horror from his presence.

But he came--as the insinuating serpent, and presented a beautiful apple, the most delicious fruit in all the garden. He told his glowing story to the unsuspecting victim of his guile. "It can be no crime-to taste of this delightful fruit. It will disclose to you the knowledge of good, and evil. It will raise you to an equality with the angels."

Such, sir, was the process; and, in this simple, but impressive narrative, we have the most beautiful and philosophical illustration of the frailty of man, and the power of temptation, that could possibly be exhibited. Mr. Chairman, I have been forcibly struck, with the similarity, between our present situation, and that of Eve, after it was announced, that Satan was on the borders of paradise. We, too, have been warned, that the enemy is on our borders.

But God forbid that the similitude should be carried any farther. Eve, conscious of her innocence, sought temptation and defied it. The catastrophe is too fatally known to us all. She went, "with the blessings of heaven on her head, and its purity in her heart," guarded by the ministry of angels-she returned covered with shame, under the heavy denunciation of heaven's everlasting curse. Sir, it is innocence--that temptation conquers. If our first parent, pure as she came from the hand of God, was overcome by the seductive power, let us not imitate her fatal rashness, seeking temptation, when it is in our power to avoid it. Let us not vainly confide in our own infallibility. We are liable to be corrupted. To an ambitious man, an honorable office will appear as beautiful and fascinating--as the apple of paradise.

I admit, sir, that ambition is a passion, at once the most powerful and the most useful.

And intimates-Eternity-to man.
Eternity!-thou pleasing-dreaful thought!
Through what variety--of untried being, [pass!
Through what new scenes, and changes, must we
The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me;
But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it.-
Here-will I hold. If there's a Power above us,
(And that there is, all Nature cries aloud-
Through all her works,) He must delight in virtue.
And that, which He delights in must be happy.
But when? or where? This world-was made
for Cesar?

I'm weary of conjectures-this-must end them.

[Laying his hand on his sword.
Thus-I am doubly arined. My death--and life,
My bane--and antidote, are both before me.
This-in a moment. brings me to an end;
But this-informs me--I shall never die.
The soul, secured in her existence, smiles-
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.—
The stars-shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years,
But thou shalt flourish-in immortal youth,
Unhurt-amidst the war of elements,
The wreek of matter, and the crush of worlds.

IDLENESS--is the badge of gentry, the bane of body and mind, the nurse of naugh tiness, the step-mother of discipline, the chief author of all mischief, one of the seven deadly sins, the cushion upon which the devil chiefly reposes, and a great cause not only of melancholy, but of many other diseases: for the mind is naturally active; and if it be not occupied about some honest business, it rush es into mischief, or sinks into melancholy.

GRAVE OF THE RENOWNED.

[beam

When, to the grave, we follow the renowned
For valor, virtue, science, all we love,
And all we praise; for worth, whose noontide
Mends our ideas of ethereal pow'rs,
Dream we, that lustre of the moral world
Goes out in stench, and rottenness the close?
Why was he wise to know, and warm to praise,
And strenuous to transcribe, in human life,
The mind almighty! could it be that fate,
Just when the lineaments began to shine,
Should snatch the draught, and blot it out forever.

734. DUTIES OF AMERICAN CITIZENS. Let us contemplate, then, this connection, Fellow-citizens: let us not retire from this oc- which binds the posterity of others to our casion, without a deep and solemn conviction own; and let us manfully discharge all the of the duties, which have devolved upon us. duties it imposes. If we cherish the virtues, This lovely land, this glorious liberty, these and the principles of our fathers, Heaven will benign institutions, the dear purchase of our assist us to carry on the work of human libfathers, are ours; ours to enjoy, ours to pre- erty, and human happiness. Auspicious serve, ours to transmit. Generations past, omens cheer us. Great examples are before and generations to come, hold us responsible us. Our firmament now shines brightly upon for this sacred trust. Our fathers, from be- our path. Washington is in the clear, upper hind-admonish us with their anxious, pater-sky. Adams, Jefferson, and other stars have nal voices; postery-calls out to us from the joined the American constellation; they cirbosom of the future; the world turns hither cle round their center, and the heavens beain its solicitous eyes; all, all conjure us to act with new light. Beneath this illumination, wisely, and faithfully, in the relation which let us walk the course of life; and, at its close, we sustain. We can never, indeed, pay the devoutly commend our beloved country, the debt which is upon us; but, by virtue, by mo- common parent of us all, to the divine berality, by religion, by the cultivation of every nignity.--Webster. good principle, and every good habit, we may bone to enjoy the blessing, through our day, and leave it, unimpaired, to our children.

Let us feel deeply, how much of what we are, and what we possess, we owe to this liberty, and to these institutions of government. Nature has, indeed, given us a soil, which yields bounteously-to the hands of industry; the mighty and fruitful ocean is before us, and the skies, over our heads, shed health and vigor. But what are lands, and seas, and skies-to civilized man, without society, without knowledge, without morals, without religious culture; and how can these be enjoyed, in all their extent, and all their excellence, but under the protection of wise institutions, and a free government? Fellow-citizens,

there is not one of us here present, who does not, at this moment, and at every moment, experience, in his own condition, and in the condition of those most near and dear to him, the influence, and the benefits-of this liberty, and these institutions. Let us then, acknowledge the blessing; let us feel it deeply, and powerfully; let us cherish a strong affection for it, and resolve to maintain, and perpetuate it. The blood of our fathers, let it not have been shed in vain; the great hope of posterity, let it not be blasted.

The striking attitude, too, in which we stand to the world around us.--cannot be altogether omitted here. Neither individuals, nor nations--can perform their part well, until they understand, and feel its importance, and comprehend, and justly appreciate, all the duties belonging to it. It is not to inflate national vanity, nor to swell a light and empty feeling of self-importance; but it is, that we may judge justly of our situation and of our duties, that I earnestly urge this consideration of our position, and our character among the nations of the earth.

It cannot be denied, but by those who would fispute against the sun, that with America, and in America, a new era commences in human affairs. This era is distinguished by free representative governments, by entire religious liberty, by improved systems of national intercourse, by a newly awakened and an unquenchable spirit of free inquiry, and by a diffusion of knowledge through the community, such as has been before, altogether raknown, and unheard of. America, Ame rica, our country, fellow-citizens, our own fear and native land, is inseparably connected, fast bound up, in fortune, and by fate, with these great interests. If the fall, we fall with them; if they stand, it will be beCause we have upholden them.

735. LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS. The breaking waves-dashed high

On a stern-and rock-bound coast,
And the woods-against a stormy sky,
Their giant branches--tossed;
And the heavy night-hung dark-
'The hills-and waters o'er,
When a band of exiles-moored their bark
On the wild-New England shore.
Not-as the conqueror-comes,

They, the true-hearted, came,
Not with the roll-of the stirring drums,
And the trumpet-that sings of fame.
Not-as the flying-come,

In silence, and in fear;

They shook-the depth-of the desert's gloom,
With their hymus of lofty checr.

Amidst the storm-they sang,

And the stars-heard, and the sea;
And the sounding aisles-of the dim woods rang
To the anthem-of the free.

The ocean-eagle-soared

From his nest--by the white wave's foam,
And the rocking pines--of the forest roared;
This was their welcome home.

There were men-with hoary hair,
Amidst that pilgrim band,
Why had they come-to wither there,
Away-from their childhood's land?
There was woman's-fearless eye,
Lit-by her deep love's trath:
There was manhood's brow, serenely high,
And the fiery heart-of youth.

What-sought they-thus, afar?
Bright jewels-of the mine?

The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?
They sought-a faith's pure shrine!

Aye, call it holy ground,

[found

The soil-where first they trod!
They have left, unstained--what there-they
Freedom-to worship God!-Hemans.

Twas Slander-filled her mouth with lying words,
Slander, the foulest whelp of Sin. The man
In whom this spirit entered-was undone.
His tongue-was set on fire of hell, his heart
Was black as death. his legs-were faint with haste
To propagate the lie-his soul had framed ;
His pillow-was the pence of families
Destroyed, the sigh of innocence reproached,
Broken friendshi ps. and the strife of brotherhoods.
Yet did he spare his sleep, and hear the clock
Number the midnight watches, on his bed,
Devising mischief more; and early rose,
And made most hellish meals of good men's names

Here was a spectacle-for the potentates of the earth to look upon, an example for them to imitate. But the potentates the earth did not see; or, if they saw, they turned away their eyes from the sight; they did not hear; or, if they heard, they shut their cars against the voice.

736. THE PILGRIMS, AND THEIR DESTI- | boasted institutions? Interrogate the shades NY. Methinks I see it now,-that one, solita- of those who fell in the mighty contests, bery, adventurous vessel, the Mayflower-of a tween Athens and Lacedæmon, between. forlorn hope, freighted-with the prospects | Carthage and Rome, and between Rome and of a future state, and bound-across the un- the rest of the universe. But see our Wiknown sea. 1 behold it pursuing, with a liam Penn, with weaponless hauds, sitting thousand misgivings, the uncertain, the tedi- down, peaceably, with his followers, in the ous voyage. Suns rise-and set, and weeks, midst of savage nations, whose only occupa· and months-pass, and winter-surprises tion was shedding the blood of their fellowthem on the deep, but brings them not-the men, disarming them by his justice, and teachsight of the wished-for shore. I see theming them, for the first time, to view a stranger now, scantily supplied with provisions, crowd- without distrust. See them bury their tomaed, almost to suilocation, in their ill-stored hawks, in his presence, so deep, that man shall prison, delayed by calms, pursuing a circuit-never be able to find them again. See them o 3 route, and now, driven in fury, before under the shade of the thick groves of Quathe raging tempest, on the high and giddy quannock, extend the bright chain of friendwaves. The awful voice of the storm-howls ship, and promise to preserve it, as long as through the rigging. The laboring masts- the sun, and moon shall endure. See him, seem straining from their base; the dismal then, with his companions, establishing bis sound of the pump-is heard-the ship leaps, commonwealth on the sole basis of reizion, as it were, madly, from billow to billow; the morality, and universal love, and adopting, ocean breaks, and settles with engulphing as the fundamental maxims of his governfloods over the floating deck, and beats, ment, the rule handed down to us from with deadening weight, against the staggered HEAVEN, "Glory to God on high, and on vessel. I see them escaped from these perils, earth peace, and good will to all men." pursuing their all but desperate undertaking, and landed, at last, after a five months' passage, on the ice-clad rocks of Plymouth, weak, and weary from the voyage,-poorly armed, scantily provisioned, depending on the charity of their ship-master-or a draft of beer on board, drinking nothing but water on shore,--without shelter,-without means,- The character of William Penn alone, surrounded by hostile tribes. Shut, now, the sheds a never-fading lustre upon our history. volume of history, and tell me, on any prin- No other state in this Union can boast of such ciple of human probability, what shall be the an illustrious founder; none began the sofate of this handfull of adventurers? Tell me, cial career, under auspices so honorable to man of military science, in how many months humanity. Every trait of the life of that were they all swept off-by the thirty savage great man, every fact, and anccdote, of those tribes, enumerated within the early limits of golden times, will furnish many an interestNew England? Tell me, politician, howing subject for the fancy of the novelist, and long did this shadow of a colony, on which the enthusiasm of the poet.--Duponceau. your conventions and treaties had not smiled, 738. WOLSEY'S SOLILOQUY ON AMBITION. languish on the distant coast! Student of history, compare for me-the bailled pro- Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! jects, the deserted settlements, the abandon-This-is the state of man: To-day, he puts forth ed adventures, of other times, and find the parallel of this. Was it the winter's storm, beating upon the houseless heads of women and children; was it hard labor and spare meals; was it disease,was it the tomahawk; was it the deep malady of a blighted hope, a ruined enterprise, and a broken heart, aching in its last moments, at the recollection of the I have ventur'd, loved and left, beyond the sea; was it some, or all of these united, that hurried this for- Like little wanton Loys, that swim on bladders, saken company to their melancholy fate? These many summers-in a sea of glory, And is it possible, that neither of these cau- But far beyond my depth; my high-blown pride ses, that not all combined, were able to blast At length-broke under me; and now has left me, this bud of hope? Is it possible, that from Weary, and old with service, to the mercy a bezinning so feeble, so frail, so worthy, Of a rude stream, that must forever-hide me. not so much of admiration as of pity, there has gone forth a progress so steady, a growth pomp, and glory of this world, I hate you! wonderful, a reality so important, a prom- I feel my heart now open'd. ise yet to be fulfilled, so glorious!-Everett. 737. TRIBUTE TO WILLIAM PENN. Wil- Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favors! liam Penn-stands the first, among the lawgivers, whose names, and deeds are recorded in history. Shall we compare with him Lycurgus, Solon, Romulus, those founders of military commonwealths, who organized their citizens in dreadful array-against the rest et their species! ta' ght them to consider their fellow-men a barbarians, and themselves as alone worny to rule over the earth? What benefit did inankind derive from their

The tender leaves of hope; to-morrow, blossoas,
And bears his blushing honors-thick upon him;
The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost;
And, when he thinks, good, easy man, full surely
His greatness is a ripening, nips his root;
And then he falls, as I do.

Vain

O how wretched

There are, betwixt that smile--he would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and his ruin,
More pangs and fears, than war or women have;
And when he falls, he falls, like Lucifer,
Never-to rise again.-Shakspeare.

Meditation-here

May think down hours-to moments; here. the
May give a useful lesson-to the head, [heart
And learning, wiser grow-without his Looks.

741. MARIA DE TORQUEMADA TAKING THE VAIL.
"My lord! you should have seen her, as she stood,
Bidding the worl 1-farewell. Her pretty hands,
Like two enclasping lilies; in her eyes,

Two quivering crystal drops,-her cheek-a rose,
Yet of the whitest, turned upon the sky,

To which her thouglas were wing'd! I never saw
So heavenly touch'd a sorrow!"

There is a spot, a holy spot,

A refuge for the wearied mind;
Where earth's wild visions-are forgot,
And love, thy poison spell 's untwined.
There, learns the withered heart--to pray-
There, gently breaks earth's weary chain;
Nay, let me weep my life away-

Let me do all,-but love again.
Oh! thou that judgest of the heart,
Look down upon this bosom bare;
And all, all mercy as thou art,

Save from that wildest, worst despair.
There-silent, dreamless, loveless, lone,
The agony, at length, is o'er;

The bleeding breast-is turned to stone,
Hope dies-and passion-wakes no more.

I ask not death,-I wait thy will;
I dare not-touch my fleeting span:
But let me, oh! not linger still,

The slave of misery and man!
Why sink my steps! one struggle past,
And all the rest-is quiet gloom;
Eyes-look your longest, and your last,
Then, turn ye to your cell, and tom.
Fly swift, ye hours!-the convent grate,
To me-is open Paradise:
The keenest bitterness of fate,

Can last, but till the victim-dies!

712. FALL OF BEAUTY, BY TEMPTATION.
Once on a lovely day, it was in spring-
I rested on the verge of that dread cliff,
That overlooks old Sterling. All was gay;
The birds-sang sweet; the trees-put forth their
leaves,

[soms;
So pale, that in the sun, they looked like blas-
Some children wandered. careless, on the hill,
Selecting early flowers. My heart rejoiced.
One sweet maid
For all was glad around me.
Came ripping near, eyeing. with gladsome smile,
Each little flower, that bloomed upon the hill:
Nimbly she picked them,'minding me of the swan,
That feeds upon the waste. I blest the girl,-
She was not maid, nor child; but of that age,
Twixt both, when pur ty of frame, and soul,
Awaken dreams of beauty, drawn in heaven.
Deep in a little den, within the cliff.

A flow'ret caught her eye,--it was a primrose,
With eager haste,
Fair flaunting in the sun.
Heed'ess of risk, she clambered down the steep
Pluck'd the wish'd flower, and sighed for when

I saw her, in mid air, fall like a seraph
From out the firmament. The rooks and daws,
That fled their roosts, in thousands, at the sight,
Curtained her exit-from my palsied eye,
And dizzy brain. O! never, will that scene
Part from my heart! whene'er I would be sad,
I think of it.

743. THE BEST OF WIVES.

[ceasing.

A man had once a vicious wife--
(A most uncommon thing in life);
His days and nights-were spent in strife-un
Her tongue went glibly-all day long,
Sweet contradiction-still her song,

[done.

And all the poor man did-was wrong, and ill-
A truce without doors, or within,

From speeches-long as tradesmen spin,

Or rest from her eternal din, he found not.
He every soothing art d'splayed;
Tried of what stuff her skin was made:
Failing in all, to Heaven he prayed--to take her.
Once, walking by a river's side,

In mournful terms, "My dear," he cried, [them.
"No more let feuds our peace divide,-1'll end
"Weary life, and quite resigned.

To drown-I have made up my mind,
So tie my hands as fast behind--as can be,--
"Or nature-may assert her reign,
My arms assist, my will restrain.
And swimming, I once more regain, my troubles
With eager haste-the dame complies,
While joy--stands glistening in her eyes;
Already, in her thoughts, he dies-before ner.
"Yet, when I view the rolling tide,
Nature revolts"-he said; "beside,

[do.

I would not be a suicide, and die thus.
"It would be better, far I think,
While close I stand-upon the brink,
You push me in,-nay, never shrink-but do it.
To give the blow--the more effect,
Some twenty yards--she ran direct,
And did-what she could least expect, she should
He slips as de-bimself to save,
So souse--she dashes, in the wave,
And gave, what ne'er she gave before-much
"Dear husband, help! I sink!" she cried;
"Thou best of wives" the man replied,
"I would, but you my hands have tied,-hen-
ven help you."

[pleasure.

The modern device of consulting indexes,
is to read books hebraically, and begin where
others usually end. And this is a compendi
ous way of coming to an acquaintance with
authors; for authors are to be used like lob
sters, you must look for the best meat in the
tails, and lay the bodies back again in the
Your cunningest thieves (and what
dish.
else are readers, who only read to borrow, i.
e. to steal) use to cut off the portmanteau
from behind, without staying to dive into the
pockets of the owner.-Swift.

Desire, (when young) is easily suppressed;
But, cherished by the sun of warm encourage-