hear his voice no more. But his words of this day are planted in my memory, and will there remain till the last pulsation of my heart.

The sword of WASHINGTON! The staff of FRANKLIN! O, sir, what associations are linked in adamant with those names! Washington, the warrior of human freedom Washington, whose sword, as my friend has said, was never drawn but in the cause of his country, and never sheathed when wielded in his country's cause! Franklin, the philosopher of the thunderbolt, the printing press, and the ploughshare! What names are these in the scanty catalogue of the benefactors of human kind! Washington and Franklin! What other two men, whose lives belong to the eighteenth century of Christendom, have left a deeper impression of themselves upon the age in which they lived, and upon all after time!

Washington! the warrior and the legislator; in war, contending by the wager of battle for the independence of his country, and for the freedom of the human race; ever manifesting, amidst its horrors, by precept and example, his reverence for the laws of peace, and for the tenderest sympathies of humanity in peace soothing the ferocious spirit of discord, among his own countrymen, into harmony and union, and giving to that very sword now presented to his country a charm more potent than that attributed in ancient times to the lyre of Orpheus.

Franklin the mechanic of his own fortune, teaching, in early youth, under the shackles of indigence, the way to wealth, and in the shade of obscurity the path to greatness; in the maturity of manhood, disarming the thunder of its terrors, the lightning of its fatal blast, and wresting from the tyrant's hand the still more afflictive sceptre of oppression: while descending into the vale of years, traversing the Atlantic Ocean, braving in the dead of winter the battle and the breeze, bearing in his hand the charter of independence, which he had contributed to form, and tendering, from the self-created nation to the mightiest monarchs of Europe, the olive branch of peace, the

mercurial wand of commerce, and the amulet of protection and safety, to the man of peace on the pathless ocean, from the inexorable cruelty and merciless rapacity of war.

And finally, in the last stage of life, with fourscore winters upon his head, under the torture of an incurable disease, returning to his native land, closing his days as the chief magistrate of his adopted commonwealth, after contributing by his counsels, under the presidency of Washington, and recording his name, under the sanction of devout prayer invoked by him to God, to that constitution under the authority of which we are here assembled, as the representatives of the North American people, to receive in their name, and for them, these venerable relics of the wise, the valiant, and the good founders of our great confederated republic- these sacred symbols of our golden age.

May they be deposited among the archives of our government; and may every American who shall hereafter behold them ejaculate a mingled offering of praise to that Supreme. Ruler of the universe by whose tender mercies our Union has been hitherto preserved through all the vicissitudes and revolutions of this turbulent world, and of prayer for the continuance of the blessings, by the dispensations of his providence, to our beloved country, from age to age, till time shall be no more.

After passing an appropriate resolution, accepting Mr. Washington's gift, and tendering him the thanks of Congress therefor, the house adjourned.

LXXXIX. - FRIENDSHIP.

COWPER.

No friendship will abide the test

That stands on sordid interest

And mean self-love erected;

Nor such as may a while subsist "Twixt sensualist and sensualist,

For vicious ends connected.

Who hopes a friend should have a heart,
Himself well furnished for the part,
And ready on occasion

To show the virtue that he seeks;
For 'tis a union that bespeaks
A just reciprocation.

A fretful temper will divide
The closest knot that may be tied,
By ceaseless, sharp corrosion:
A temper passionate and fierce
May suddenly your joys disperse
At one immense explosion.

Beware of tattlers; keep your ear
Close stopped against the tales they bear,
Fruits of their own invention;

The separation of chief friends
Is what their kindness most intends;
Their sport is your dissension.

The man who hails you Tom or Jack,
And proves by thumping on your back
His sense of your great merit,
Is such a friend that one had need
Be very much his friend indeed

To pardon or to bear it.

Some friends make this their prudent plan:

"Say little, and hear all you can

Safe policy, but hateful;

So barren sands imbibe the shower,

But render neither fruit nor flower
Unpleasant and ungrateful.

Pursue the theme, and you will find
A disciplined and furnished mind
To be at least expedient;
And, after summing all the rest,
Religion ruling in the breast
A principal ingredient.

True friendship has in that a grace
More than terrestrial in its face,

That proves it heaven-descended;
Man's love of woman not so pure,
Nor, when sincerest, so secure
To last till life is ended.

XC.-SPEECH ON THE RECEPTION OF THE
SAUKS AND FOXES.

EVERETT.

[Edward Everett, a highly distinguished statesman, orator, and scholar, was born in Dorchester, Massachusetts, and now (1856) resides in Boston.

In the autumn of 1837, a delegation of the Sauk and Fox tribes of Indians went to Washington on business connected with their boundary. It was deemed expedient by the United States government that they should visit the cities of the Eastern and Middle States, and Boston was included in their tour. They were received in Boston on the morning of October 30. Mr. Everett was at that time governor of Massachusetts, and in that capacity made them the following speech of welcome, which is a happy imitation of the peculiar style of oratory common to our North American Indians.]

CHIEFS and warriors of the united Sauks and Foxes, you are welcome to our hall of council.

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Brothers, you have come a long way from your home to your white brethren; we rejoice to take you by the hand. Brothers, we have heard the names of your chiefs and warriors. Our brethren who have travelled into the west have told

us a great deal about the Sauks and Foxes; we rejoice to see you with our own eyes. Brothers, we are called the Massachusetts. This is the name of the red men who once lived here. Their wigwams were scattered on yonder fields, and their council fire was kindled on this spot. same great race as the Saukies and Foxes.

They were of the

Brothers, when our fathers came over the great water, they were a small band. The red man stood upon the rock by the sea side, and saw our fathers. He might have pushed them into the water and drowned them. But he stretched out his hand to them, and said, "Welcome, white men." Our fathers were hungry, and the red man gave them corn and venison. They were cold, and the red man wrapped them in his blanket. We are now numerous and powerful, but we remember the kindness of the red men to our fathers. Brothers, you are welcome; we are glad to see you.

Brothers, our faces are pale, and your faces are dark; but our hearts are alike. The Great Spirit has made his children of different colors, but he loves them all.

Brothers, you dwell between the Mississippi and the Missouri. They are mighty rivers. They have one branch far east in the Alleghanies, and another far west in the Rocky Mountains; but they flow together at last into one great stream, and run down into the sea. In like manner, the red man dwells in the west, and the white man in the east, by the great water. But they are all one band, one family. It has many branches, and one Head.

Brothers, as you entered our council house, you beheld the image of our great father, Washington.* It is a cold stone; it cannot speak. But he was the friend of the red man, and bade his children live in friendship with their red brethren. He is gone to the world of spirits, but his words have made a very deep print in our hearts, like the step of a strong buffalo on the soft clay of the prairie.

There is a statue of Washington, by Chantrey, in the State House in Boston.