and she soon shook them from her eyes, and looked up smiling and said "There thou seest, dear sister, how unfit I am to live with such as thou. Better, perhaps, had I met my natural fate, and been destroyed on my first arrival by thy monstrous foes, or by the eagle from which thou didst save

me.

"Strange would it have been if we had not had wit enough to disappoint that big and brutal race!"

"I never could well understand why it was that they hated either you or me."

"They could not do otherwise, being what they are-thou what thou art-and we the sprites thou knowest us. Curious is the tale, and long to tell, of all that has happened between them and us."

"How came ye to have such dreadful inhabitants in your isle of Faery?

"Ah! that I know not. They and we seem to belong to it by the same necessity. Before thou camest we had no measure of time; which we now reckon, as thou knowest, by thy years, not by ours. Till then, our existence was like what thou describest thy dreams to be. It is in watching thee that we have learned to mark how thy fancies and wishes, and actions, rise and succeed each other, as the sun and moon, the the stars and clouds, travel and change. And even now I hardly feel, as thou appearest to do, what is meant by to-day, yesterday and to-morrow. Of times and years, therefore, 1 can tell thee little. We grow not old, nor cease to be young. Nor can we say of each other as we can of thee-thou art such a one, and none else. We discern differences of sunshine and shade, of land and sea, of wind and calm; but all of us feel alike under the same circumstances, and have no fixed peculiarity of being, such as that which makes thee so different from us. I know not whether it was I, or some of my sisters who visited this field and shore yesterday, and the day before danced in the showering drops of the white waterfall yonder, up the valley. Each of us feels as all do, and all as each. I love thee not more than do my sisters, nor they more than I. Of our past life I only know that we seemed always to have been in this our own land, and to have been happy here. The flowers fill us with odors, the sky with warmth; the dews bathe us in delight, the moonbeams wind us in a ring with filmy threads when we dance upon the sands; and when the woods murmur above us, we have a thrill of quiet joy, which belongs not to me more than to another, but is the common bliss of all. Of all times have the mountains, and deep ravines, and bare and rocky uplands of our isle been the abode of a fierce and ugly race of giants, whom we have been accustomed to call our brothers, and to believe them allied with us by nature, though between us there has ever been a mortal enmity.'

"Often, often," said the Sea-Child, "have I thought how much happier we should be, had there been no giants in the land."

“I know not,” said the fairy, “how that might be. Much is the vexation that they cause us; but it is said that our race is inseparable from theirs, and that if they were altogether destroyed we also must perish. Never, till we had thee among us, did their enmity seem very dangerous, difficult as it often was to avoid their injuries. Always, as now, when the shadows of the storm-cloud swept from the hills over our plains; when the dark mist rolled out of the ravines down to our sunny meadows; the shaggy and huge creatures strode forth from their caves and forests, leaning on their pine clubs, shouting and growling, and with their weighty tramp de facing our green and flowery sward, and scaring us away before them. When, as it has happened, some of us were trodden beneath their feet, or dashed below their swinging clubs, a faint shriek, a sudden blaze burst from under the blow, and all of us, lurking beneath the waterfalls, clinging amid the hidden nooks of flowers, or shrunken into sparry grottoes in the rocks, felt stricken and agonized, although none of us could cease to live. All round this bay, and others, larger and more broken of our shore, the giant horde of our brothers would sit upon the cliffs and crags, looking themselves like prodigious rocks; and with the rain and storm about them, and the sea-foam dashing up against their knees, would wash their dark beards in the brine, and seem to laugh aloud at the sound of the tempest. But when calm and sunshine were about to return, they always sprang from their places on the shore, and, like one of those herds of wild bulls that they chase before them, hurried back with dizzy bellowings, and rush of limbs and clubs, into their dark mountains. Sometimes, indeed, they

chief. I have known them tear asunder the jaws of one of their hill-torrents, so as to pour the waters suddenly on our fields and valleys. Sometimes, too, we have seen them standing upon the mountains, with their figures marked against the sky, plying great stems of trees around a mass of snow and ice, till, loosened at last, it rolled down, mile after mile, crash. ing through wood and stream. Thus were our warm bright haunts buried under a frozen heap of ruins, while the laughter of the mountain-monsters rang through the air, above the roar of the falling mass. But often had we our revenge. Once. when the storms had gathered fiercely on those far hills, and rushed in rainy gusts and black fogs down every gully, and opened at last over the green vale and sunny bay, our brothers hurried in tumult from their own region, their swinish ears tossing in the dark folds of their locks and beards, and, with mouths like wolves, drinking in the tempest as they ran. They rioted and triumphed on the shore, while the wind whistled loudly round them; and they played with the billows which tumbled on the beach, as I have seen you play with lambs in the green fields. We peeped from the grottoes where we had hidden ourselves, and saw them catch out of the waters some round black heaps, like skins of animals, full of liquid. These they threw at each other, till at last one burst, and covered the giant whom it had struck with a red stain. On this there was a loud shout-they flung the skins about no more, but caugh: them tenderly in their arms, lifted them to their mouths, bit them open, and drained the contents. This increased their tumult and grim joy; and they turned to the meadow, and began to wrestle, and leap, and tear down the young trees, and disport themselves, till one by one they sank upon the turf in sleep. The storm was clearing off; we ventured from our hiding-places, and looked upon the hairy dismal shapes, that lay scattered and heaped like brown rocks overgrown with weeds and moss. Suddenly we all looked at each other, and determined what to do. We pierced through the crevices of our grottoes till we reached a fount of sunny fire. This we drew upwards by our singing to follow us, and led it in a channel over the grass till it formed a stream of diamond light, dividing this field from the mountains, and encir cling the whole host of giants. The warm sunshine at the same time began to play on them. They felt the soft sweet flowery air of our lower land, our songs sounded in their bristled ears, and they began to toss, roll, snort, and endeavored to rise and escape to their dark hills. But this was not now so easy. They could not pass the bright pure stream. The sunshine in which we revelled weakened them so much that they could not rise and stand, but staggered on their knees, fell upon their hands and faces, and seemed to dissolve away, like their own ice crags when flung with all their clay and withered herbage down into our warm lakes and dells. We thought there was now a chance of seeing our enemies, who were also our brothers, for ever destroyed. We began to deliberate whether we also should necessarily perish with them, when we heard a sudden gust of wind and flash of rain-another storm broke from the mountains-a torrent of snow-water quenched our diamond flame. The giants stood up, bold, wild, and strong as ever-leaped, roared, and swung their clubs, and, with the friendly tempest playing round them, stormed back into the depths of their own mountain world."

"Could ye not," said the Sea-Child, "have always taken refuge from them in the lower garden where I have been with you?"

"We did not know it till thou wert among us, and should perhaps never have ventured thither had we not been driven to distress by the hatred of the giants for thee. When we had thee for our nursling and sister, their attempts were no longer bursts of violence that passed away. They seemed always lying in wait to discover and to destroy thee. Had we not known a strain of music, of power when sung to frighten them away, thou, dear Sea-Child, would long ere this have been taken from us. When they came rushing down in the wind and darkness, and sought for thee in every thicket, and every hollow-tree, and under each of those large pink shells which we often made thy bed, they sang and shouted together such words as these:

'Lump and thump, and rattling clatter,
These the brawny brothers love;
While the lightnings flash and shatter,
While the winds the forest tatter,
We too spatter, stamp and batter,
Whirling our clubs at whate'er's above.'

'The giant is strong, but the fairy is wise:

But the clouds cannot wither the stars in the skies.' "Oh! well I remember," said her companion, "with what delight I first heard you sing that song. I fancied that, if I could only listen long enough to it, I should become as airy and gentle as ye are, and no longer be encumbered with this dark, solid flesh. We were in that dark green chamber in the midst of red rocks, where the pines spread over the brinks of the precipices far above the mossy floor we sat on, and the vines hung their branches down the stony walls from the pine boughs which they cling to on the summit, and drop their clusters into the smooth stream, with its floating waterlilies, which traverses the spot. There, dear sisters, were ye sporting, climbing up the vine-trails, and throwing yourselves headlong down, or launching over the quick ripples of the stream. Ye had laid me on a bed of harebells, and I looked up with half-shut eyes. I saw your sparkling hosts pass to and fro up the cliff, through the straggling beams of sunshine, when something blacker than the pine boughs on the summit appeared in the deepest of their shade. Long tangled locks, and two fierce round eyes, and a mouth with huge protruding lip, came on and peered over, till the monster spied me, and gave a yell. I saw a crag, with two young pine trees growing on it, toppling before the thrust of his hand, and at the moment of falling to crush me. Then suddenly came your cry and song. A sheet of water, thinner than a rose leaf, and transparent as the starry sky, rose from the stream, and seemed to form an arch above me. There was in it a perpetual trembling and eddying of the brightest colors, and I saw the forms of thousands of my sisters floating, circling, wavering up and down in the liquid light. All seemed joining in the song:

'The giant is strong, but the fairy is wise:

And the clouds cannot wither the stars in the skies.'

The crag fell, but shattered not my crystal vault, down the side of which it rolled into the stream; and the giant, with a roar of rage, fell after it, and stung by the warm air, and pierced through and through by the music, and writhing in the bright stream, half melted, half was broken like a lump of ice, and darkened by the water, while he flowed in it away.' "It was, however, the frequency of such attempts," said the fairy," which drove us to take refuge in the regions of our friends the dwarfs. We found, too, that we had no longer the mere risk of being surprised by our enemies in the sudden descent of storm and mists, and through the opportunities of thick and gloomy lurking-places near our sunlit haunts. They had discovered a secret by which they could at will darken and deface our whole kingdom, and blight all its sweet flowers and fruitage. There is somewhere, in the centre of their mountains, in the midst of desolate rocks, a black ravine. The upper end of this is enclosed by an enormous crag, which turns as on a pivot, and is the door of an immeasurable cave. The giants, hating our Sea-Child, and determined to drive her from the land, heaved with their pine-stem clubs at this great block of stone, until they had forced it open. Thence, so long as they had strength to hold it thus, a thick and chilling mist boiled out, poured down the glens and mountains, and stifled all our island. When they were so wearied with the huge weight that they could endure no longer, the rock swung to again, and closed the opening: but not until the work was done for that time, and the land made well-nigh uninhabitable to thee and us. Then in the fearful gloom the giants rushed abroad, howling and trampling over high and low; and many were the devices which we were compelled to use in order to preserve thee from their fury. We scattered the golden sea-sand, which had been transmuted by the sunbeams, over the softest green-sward, and watered it with the dew shaken from musk-roses, and it grew up into a golden trellis-work, with large twining leaves of embossed gold and fruits, like bunches of stars. When thou hadst been sprinkled with the same dew, and so hushed into charmed sleep, we laid thee beneath the bowery roof, and kept watch around thee. The giants could not approach this spot, for it threw off the darkness, and burnt in the midst of storm and fog with an incessant light. But still we were obliged to be perpetually on our guard, and we shivered and pined in the desolation of our beautiful empire. At last we resolved to try our fortunes in a new region. When we had lulled thee into deep slumber, we all glided down the water

into the ground. We were here in the kingdom of the dwarfs. "The little people showed us as much friendship as the giants had ever displayed of enmity. Their great hall had a thousand columns, each of a different metal, and with a capital of a different precious stone. The roof was opal, and the floor lapis-lazuli. In the centre stood a pillar, which seemed cut off at half its height. On it sat a dwarf, rather smaller than the others, but broad and strong. His dark and twisted face looked like a little copy of one of the giants, but his clear blue eyes were as beautiful as ours or as thine, my Sea-Child. He sat with his arms folded, and his legs hung down, and swinging. His head was turned to one side and rather upwards, and on the tip of his nose spun perpetually a little golden circle, with a golden pin run through it, on which it seemed to dance unweariedly, turning round and round for ever, smooth and swift as an eddy in a stream. In its whirl the little circle gave out large flakes of white fire, which formed a wheel of widening rings above the head of the dwarf, flashing off on all sides between the capitals of the pillars, and lighting the whole hall. The queer cunning look with which the dwarfs' blue eyes glanced up at the small spinner, as if it were alive, and, answering his glances with its own, amused us extremely.

"The dwarfs, when we entered, were all placed round on ranges of seats rising above each other. Every seat, like a small pile of round plates of gold, each of them, as we afterwards found, having a head on it with some strange figures. These plates, the dwarfs told us, were all talismans, which would one day make the owners lords of the world. At the head of the hall, under a canopy of state, sat the king of the dwarfs who looked wonderfully old and wise, with two eyes of ruby, and a long crystal tooth growing out of one side of his mouth, and a band of gold wire falling below his feet, and twirled on the floor, going three times round the throne.

"What seek ye?' said the King; and his words did not come out of his lips, but from a little hole in the top of his crystal tooth.

"Help! necromancer.'

"The rage of the tall giants.'

"We are deeper than they are high. I can protect you against them.'

"He rose up and walked before us, and his golden beard streamed behind over both his shoulders, and seemed to be a stately cloth, woven with figures for us to walk on. There waz darkness round us, and we advanced upon this shining path, followed the dwarf till suddenly he disappeared, and we found ourselves in the garden which thou has dwelt in with us. Thou rememberest the still and glistening loveliness of the place: and of the moon that lighted it, and the sweet moon flowers that filled its glades, I need not speak. But thou knowest not what wise instruction the old dwarf King was wont to give us while thou wert sleeping under the myrtle shade.

"Mourn not,' he would say, fair sisters, that ye are driven from your upper land of life into this garden of peace. "All things are but as they must be, and, were they, otherwise, they would not be the things they are.

Each worketh for itself, and doeth and knoweth all it can, save in so far as other things oppose it, which are also accomplishing their due tasks.

"Each is but a portion of the whole, and vainly seeketh to be aught but that which the whole willeth it to be.

"All-that is, dwarfs, and giants, and fairies, and the world that holds them-subsist in succession of strife; and while they seem struggling to destroy each other, exert, as alone impossible for them to do, the energies of their own being.

"All rise out of death to life, and many are the semblances of death which still accompany their life at its highest. They grow into harmony only by discord with themselves and others, and, while they labor to escape the common lot, rebound painfully from the walls which they strive against idly.

"The giant disturbeth, the fairy brighteneth, the dwarf enricheth the world. Each doeth well in his own work. But therein often must he thwart and cross the work of another.

"I am oldest, I am wisest of workers in the world. I was at the birth of things, and what hath been I know well; but

what is future I know not yet, nor can read whether there shall be a new birth of all that may bring death to me,'

"Thus did the old King teach us a sad yet melodious contentment, that seemed suited to that visionary garden. This quiet state, however, was not to last, nor the wisdom of the dwarfs to secure them happiness. We longed for our upper world of daylight and freedom, and thou seemest rather dreaming than awake. Yet thou deamedst ever fairer and fairer, and didst grow in stature and in loveliness. Thus was it that thou wert the occasion of our first difference with the dwarfs. Their King, so old, so wise, looked on thee ever with more joy and sadness, and at last he told us, that he would fain have thee for his queen, to abide with him always in that secret lunar empire. Us, too, the dwarfs appeared to love more than we wished. And we found that we must either leave their dominions or consent to inhabit them forever. We spake to the old King and said, that for thee it would be a woeful doom to see no more of native Faeryland; and that we intreated him of his goodness and wisdom to enable us to dwell there without further peril. Ruby tears fell from his ruby eyes upon his golden beard as he turned away, and the faces of all dwarfland were darkened.

"No long space seemed to have passed before we wore summoned again to the great hall, while thou wert sleeping in the moon garden. The King was on his throne, the dwarfs were seated round. But instead of the pillars we had seen before, the metals now had all become transparent, and in the midst of them stood one of our enemies, the giants, with one heavy hand hung down, and clenched as if in pain, and the other raised above his head, and sustaining the capital of the column. The small gold plate, with its gold pin, still spun incessantly on the nose; and the blue eyes still watched it cunningly; the flakes of fire streamed off and flew between the pillars, and scorched the faces and brown shoulders of the giants. Our enemies grinned and writhed when they saw us, but seemed unable to utter any sound. The dwarfs also did not speak, but the King rose and moved before us. His beard fell over his shoulders, and formed a path on which we walked. We proceeded on and on, till the dwarfland seemed changing, and daylight faintly fell upon us. The King grew more and more like the stones and trees around; and at last, we knew not how but instead of his figure before us, there was only a cleft in the rock, nearly of the same shape. The golden beard was now a track of golden sands such as we had often seen before, with the bright sunshine falling on it. We were again in our own world of Faery. But oh, dear Sea-Child! I cannot say the grief that smote us when we missed thee. We wailed and drooped, and even the delights of our land could do nothing to console us, till we found thee sleeping in a grotto of diamond and emerald, which recalled to us the treasures of the dwarfs. Even now we were not happy; for we remembered a prophecy of the old man, that though he might restore us to our home, and rescue us from the giants, short would be our enjoyment of of thee who we had refused him."

The companions embraced anew, and the fairy hung round her friend like a rainbow on a smooth green hill. The fairies now poured in on all sides, singing and exulting in their own land, though not without a thought of grief from the dwarf's prophecy. The sun was hanging over the sea, and gilding the shore, and they looked at the bright waters, and marked the spot where they had first discerned the Sea-Child's swimming cradle. Lo! there was again a speck. A floating shape appeared, and came nearer and nearer. It looked a living thing. Soon it touched the shore, and they saw a figure like that of the Sea-Child, but taller, and stronger, and bolder, and in a stately dress. The fairies said in their hearts-it is a man! Then he seemed not to see but only her. She was frightened, but with a mixture of gladness at his appearance; and was trembling and nigh to sink, when he took her in his arms, and spake to her of hope and joy.

"I am come from distant lands upon this strange adventure, warned in dreams, and by aérial voices, and by ancient lays, that here I should find my bride, and queen."

He, too, was beautiful, and of a sweet voice, and she heard him with more fear than pain. When she looked around, she no longer saw the fairies near. There were gleams floating over the landscape, and quivering in the woods, and a song of sweet sorrow-so sweet, that, as it died away, it left the sense of an eternal peace.

Thus did the land of England receive its first inhabitants Ever since has it been favored of the faeries; the dwarfs have enriched it secretly, and the giants have upborne its foundations upon their hands, and done it huge though sullen service.

CORN FIELDS... BY MARY HOWITT.

In the young merry time of Spring, When clover 'gins to burst; When blue-bells nod within the wood,

And sweet May whitens first; When merle and mavis sing their fill, Green is the young corn on the hill. But when the merry Spring is past, And Summer groweth bold, And in the garden and the field A thousand flowers unfold; Before a green leaf yet is sere, The young corn shoots into the ear. But then, as day and night succeed, And Summer weareth on,

And in the flowery garden-bed

The red-rose groweth wan, And holly-hock and sun-flowers tall O'ertop the mossy garden-wall. When on the breath of autumn breeze, From pastures dry and brown, Goes floating, like an idle thought,

The fair, white thistle-down;
O! then what joy to walk at will,
Upon the golden harvest hill!
What joy in dreamy ease to lie

Amid a field new-shorn,
And see all round on sun-lit slopes,

The piled-up shocks of corn:
And send the fancy wandering o'er
All pleasant harvest-fields of yore.
I feel the day-I see the field;

The quivering of the leaves,
And good old Jacob and his house
Binding the yellow sheaves:
And at this very hour I seem
To be with Joseph in his dream.
I see the fields of Bethlehem,
And reapers many a one,
Bending unto their sickles' stroke,
And Boaz looking on:
And Ruth, the Moabitess fair,
Amid the gleaners stooping there.
Again, I see a little child,

His mother's sole delight,
God's living gift of love unto

The kind, good ShunamiteTo mortal pangs I see him yield, And the lad bear him from the field. The sun-bathed quiet of the hills,

The fields of Gallilee, That eighteen hundred years agone Were full of corn, I see; And the dear Saviour take his way, 'Mid ripe ears, on the Sabbath day. O! golden fields of bending corn, How beautiful they seem! The reaper folk, the piled up sheaves, To me are like a dreamThe sunshine and the very air Seem of old time, and take me there!

ETHAN ALLEN IN ENGLAND.

Col. Ethan Allen was a man destined to strike the worl as something uncommon, and in a high degree interesting. He was partially educated and obscurely brought up; yet n man was ever more at ease in the polished ranks than he Not that he at all conformed to their artificial rules and title etiquette; but he had observed the dictates of natural goo sense and good humor. His bearing was in total defiance fashion, and he looked and acted as if he thought it would

a condescension thus to trammel himself. It is well known that in early life, in his own country he acquired an influence over his fellow-men, and led them on to some of the most daring achievements. He seemed to have possessed all the elements of a hero-a devoted patriotism, a resolute and daring mind, and an excellent judgement.

His conduct as a partisan officer is well known in this country, and was of great service to the cause of liberty during our revolutionary struggle. He was taken prisoner and carried to England, where his excellent sense, his shrewdness and wit, introduced him into the court region. A friend of our earlier life, who was well acquainted with this part of the history of this singular man, used to take great delight in telling us some anecdotes of Colonel Allen, while a prisoner in London.We have before mentioned the firmness with which he resisted the attempts to bribe him from the cause of his country, and the caustic satire with which he replied to a nobleman, who was commissioned by the ministry to make him formal offers to join the British cause in America. The incident is a striking one, and it will bear a repetition.

The commissioner, among the tempting largesses, proposed that if he would espouse the king's cause, he might have a fee simple in half the State of Vermont.

"I ama plain man," said Col. Allen in reply, "and I have read but few books, but I have seen in print somewhere, a circumstance that forcibly reminds me of the proposal of your lordship; it is of a certain character that took a certain other character into an exceeding high mountain, and showed him all the kingdoms of the earth and the glory thereof, and told him that if he would fall down and worship him, this would all be his: and the rascal,” added he, “ didn't own a foot of them!"

His interview with the King at Windsor is mentioned as highly interesting. His Majesty asked the stout-hearted mountaineer if they had any newspapers in America.

46

But very few, and those are but little read," was the an

swer.

"How then," asked the King, "do the common people know of these grievances of which they complain, and of which we have been speaking?"

"As to that," said he, "I can tell your Majesty, that among a people who have felt the spirit of liberty, the news of oppression is carried by the birds of the air and the breezes of

heaven.'

"That is too figurative an answer from a matter-of-fact Eman, to a plain question," rejoined the king.

277

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"Well," says he, "this may do for a truth if not for a toast,' and fixing his eyes adoringly on the far-famed court beauty, he proceeded:

"If any thing could make a double traitor out of a good patriot, it would be the witchcraft of such eyes as your ladyship's."

The blunt sincerity with which this was spoken, together with its exact fitness to the occasion and the person, caused it to be long hailed in the 'beau monde,' as an excellent good thing; and although it had the effect of heightening for a moment that beauty to which it was offered as a tribute, it is said the fair Duchess often afterward boasted of the compliment as far before all the empty homage she had received from the glittering coxcombry of the city.

A lady once sneeringly asked Col. Allen, in a large assembly, at what time fashionable ladies in America preferred taking the air. He perceived her drift, and bluntly answered, "Whenever it was necessary to feed the geese and turkies.'

What," inquired the lady, "do the fine women in your country descend to so menial employments ?"

Allen was always aroused at any attempt to depreciate the fair ones of his own country, and with a great deal of warmth he replied,

"American ladies have the art of turning even amusements to account. Many of these could take up the subject of your Grace's family history, and tell you of the feats of valor and bursts of eloquence to which your ladyship is probably indebted for your distinguished name, and most of which it is likely, would be as new to you as the art of raising poultry."

The sarcasm produced a deep blush in the face of the fair scoffer; but it produced for the captive and his countrymen an indemnity against court ridicule for the future.

The King made a long pause, as if impressed with the truth of his remark. At length, changing the subject, he asked Col. Allen if he knew Dr. Franklin; and being answered in the affirmative, inquired concerning his experiments with electricity, and expressed a curiosity to experience an electric shock. The British Sovereign seemed to take pleasure in the conversation, which he kept up for more than an hour, and at length made Col. Allen promise to visit him with his countryman, Dr. Franklin, at his place in London. Some weeks after that he was reminded of his promise by the nobleman above mentioned, and an hour fixed for the homemade philosopher of America to explain the mysteries of a new discovery in the royal family. They attended accordingly, and with an apparatus chiefly of his own invention, Dr. Franklin exhibited many of those simple and amusing experiments, for which he was so noted, and at which the royal children, even of a larger growth, were much delighted.

In this playful way, Dr. Franklin took occasion to convey instructions as to the properties of this astonishing fluid.While the royal habitation was thus in a most unkingly uproar, the Premier was announced as in waiting. The King seemed for a moment disturbed. "I forgot my appointment with the minister," said he, "but no matter, I will eschew business for once, and let North see how we are employed." Accordingly the minister was ushered in with ceremony, and it was soon concluded that he should have a shock. Allen whispered to the Dr. to remember how he had shocked us across the waters, and to give him a double charge; whether it was designed on the hint of his friend or not, was not ascertained, but the charge was so powerful on the nerves of his

I. Priests demand that we shall call their rites and modes of worship, religion; politicians wish us to call their intrigues and canvassings, maxims of good government; and both have been thus far successful. Their only complaint now is, that there are heretics!

II. There are monks to be found in the political, social and moral world, as well as in religion. I mean those who shrinking from the troubles and dangers of activity, imitate the monks, that retire from the temptations of the flesh-into complete idleness.

III. There would be many more honest people in the world, if they had but the courage to be honest; the inclintion really exists with a very large number.

IV. While young men we have often reason to exclaim: "Oh, that I had been more reasonable!" when old we are tempted to say: "Oh that I could still bring myself to believe it!"

V. Whoever loves Gold on its own account. is its slave; whoever uses it as a mere means of gratifying himself wishes to make slaves of others, and is seldom disappointed in his expectations.

VI. The recommendations to offices and posts of honor, mutually practised by those who are already in the service of of the State, constitute a lasting conspiracy against the public welfare.

VII. Not the principal passion, but the means which a man employs, in order to gratify it, furnish the index to his heart and understanding. These however he seldom exhibits in public; and for this reason a certain system of espionage becomes absolutely indespensable in a republic.