smallest taxes, in proportion to their wealth, were always most ready to vote away the town's money; whereas the farmer, whose purse was small and whose lands must be taxed, was invariably the most parsimonious and saving.

I remember I used to compare our venerable clergyman to the king; his church to the house of lords; and the people, in town-meeting assembled, to the commons. Our reverend king was very willing to have his salary increased; the church were not very adverse to it, or, at least, less so than the lower house; but the commons were always griping the pursestrings. Thus we had deep management and warm debates.

It was curious sometimes to notice the mistakes made by rustic eloquence. Great liberties were often taken with the king's English, and we used to show that we were true freemen, by violating the laws of language. I recollect the discussion was once respecting continuing our schools throughout the year; when one gentleman remarked that we were an ancient, growing town, and needed two annual schools; when an honest farmer started up, and said, "that for his part, he never went to an animal school, nor his father before him; and he did not see why our children should need animal schools. He thought we had better save our money, and leave animal schools to the Boston fops, who needed them." On another occasion, it was objected to an agricultural gentleman,

who had made a speech rather inconclusive in its reasoning, that his ground was not tenable. "Not tillable, Mr. Moderator," said he ; "I own as much tillable ground as any other man; I pay the largest tax of any one in town; and, Sir, is it to be objected to me, that my ground is not tillable?" So the worthy man, like some logicians, found his mistake to be an error in terminis.

There was one famous speaker in our rustic senate, who was accustomed to attract great attention. He went by the name of the learned cobbler. He had a thin person, a loud voice, a meagre and haggard look, and as much brass in his face, as prevented him from ever being abashed. He was always in the opposition; and had he been in the British parliament, would soon have been in the ministry. His gesticulation was very vehement; and I remember a part of his speech against raising our minister's salary. "Turn your eyes," said he, " my fellow-townsmen, to Bunker Hill." [Which, by the way, was far enough out of sight, but he obviously meant the eyes of the imagination.] "On that consecrated ground, our fathers poured out their blood, in crimson torrents, for the cause of liberty; for liberty they faced their British foes; for liberty they fought and for liberty they bled. For liberty, Warren lay a breathless corps on the cold ground, sprinkled by the dews of the night, and making the green sod his immortal pillow. For liberty they resisted the stamp-act. Yes, liberty

was the goddess at whose shrine they poured the sacrifice of their blood, and the incense of their prayers. Yes. They did-and shall we now be slaves?" This speech must appear very beautiful, when we remember it was made on a motion to add twenty-five dollars per annum to a clergyman's salary.

THE PURITAN.

No. 45.

I would be worldly wise; for the other wisdom,
That does prescribe us a well-governed life,
And to do right to others, as ourselves,

I value not an atom.

Massenger.

AMIDST all the character that have passed under my inspection, I know of none more disgusting and contemptible, than a thorough-going politician. Politics, in all the forms of the science, from the management of the parish to the rival candidates for the highest chair in the nation, sharpens the envy, extinguishes the benevolence of men, and makes them arithmetical machines, moving only by their interest, without one impulse from the benevolence of a generous heart.

I have already mentioned squire Wilson, our moderator, who was a true specimen of a politician on a small scale, and in a humble sphere. The squire

was a man who lived on calculation. He never uttered a sentiment, or moved a step, or took off his hat, but with a view to the effect. He was a tall, stately man, well dressed; who loved a glass of brandy, and spoke with a silver tongue. He was remarkable for never committing himself on any question, until it was absolutely necessary; and he had a fund of common-place remarks, by which he could go round a subject, without coming to the vital point. He always waited to see which way the stream would set, and then threw himself into the current. His practice was to suspend his opinion, "the matter was weighty and worthy of deliberation." No man could call him hasty or rash with his mouth; he never let his tongue run before his thoughts. He fully complied with the direction of Scripture, in being swift to hear, slow to speak. He remembered, cording to the directions of the old philosopher, that he had one mouth and two ears, and therefore he should hear twice as much as he taxed others with hearing. He well knew that one hasty speech might lose him ten votes, and ten votes might' turn the election.

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hat to a

The squire was one of the most affable men alive. He would pat one man on the shoulder, whilst he gave him agreeable advice; pull off his second, and squeeze a third by the hand. gave any advice but what was agreeable. There was another squire in town, who was as great a bon vivant

He never