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CXCIX.-BOMBAST.

THERE are those, though, whom monuments can never honor. To those veterans eulogy is preposterous, and monuments unavailing; but a heart soaking with gratitude is never bleak nor serene. Cold calumny may chill it, and life's icicles freeze it, but when thawed by recollections, blood leaps through its veins.

Could we learn from immortality their fame, or presage their memory, the priceless league, the serried rank, the siren yell, the solemn march, the cracking bone, the flying flesh, the clinic pang, the galling wail, the quenchless sigh, and the clattering footsteps of that army, welding sympathy to ages, and liberty to life, will float like the dying groans of the martyr down the rapids of mortality, and, diffusing hope along the whirlpool of nations, they will enter like their fathers, a sea of agrarian bliss.

We might pauperize our intellect, but we can not dramatize their valor. The sublimity of conjecture outvies the suggestions of our fancy, and rifles the deductions of our experience. With their knees as their minaret, inspired by glorious hopes, their deific peals stream along the faded lines and flapping ensigns of the army, and, touching the angelic wires with telegraphic flight, and doxologizing along the suburbs of that aristocratic city, they dart through the labyrinths of other worlds, to be printed in italics in the newspapers of eternity.

CC. THE RICH MAN AND THE POOR.

So goes the world; if wealthy, you may call
This friend, that brother, friends and brothers all;
Though you are worthless, witless, never mind it;
You may have been a stable-boy,--what then?
'Tis wealth, good Sir, makes honorable men.

You seek respect, no doubt, and you will find it.

But if you're poor, Heaven help you! though your sire
Had royal blood within him, and though you
Possessed the intellect of angels, too,

'Tis all in vain;-the world will ne'er inquire
On such a score;-why should it take the pains?
'Tis easier to weigh purses, sure, than brains.
I once saw a poor fellow, keen and clever,
Witty and wise;-he paid a man a visit,
And no one noticed him, and no one ever

Gave him a welcome. "Strange!" cried I; "whence is it?"
He walked on this side, then on that,
He tried to introduce a social chat;
Now here, now there, in vain he tried;
Some formally and freezingly replied;
And some

Said, by their silence, "Better stay at home."
A rich man burst the door,

As Croesus rich; I'm sure

He could not pride himself upon his wit;
And as for wisdom, he had none of it;
He had what's better,-he had wealth.

What a confusion!-all stand up erect;
These crowd around to ask him of his health;
These bow in honest duty and respect;
And these arrange a sofa or a chair,
And these conduct him there.

"Allow me, Sir, the honor!"-then a bow
Down to the earth. Is 't possible to show
Meet gratitude for such kind condescension?
The poor man hung his head,

And to himself he said,

"This is, indeed, beyond my comprehension!' Then looking round,

One friendly face he found,

And said, "Pray, tell me, why is wealth preferred
To wisdom?"- "That's a silly question, friend!"
Replied the other; "have you never heard,

A man may lend his store

Of gold or silver ore,

But wisdom none can borrow, none can lend?"

CCI. THE TARTAR.

THERE's trouble in Hungary, now, alas! There's trouble on every hand,

For that terrible man,

The Tartar Khan,

Is ravaging over the land!

He is riding forth with his ugly men,

To rob, and ravish, and slay;

For deeds like those,

You may well suppose,

Are quite in the Tartar way.

And now he comes, that terrible chief, To a mansion grand and old;

And he peers about,

Within and without,

And what do his eyes behold?

A thousand cattle in fold and field,
And sheep all over the plain;
And noble steeds

Of rarest breeds,

And beautiful crops of grain.

But finer still is the hoarded wealth
That his ravished eyes behold;
In silver plate

Of wondrous weight,

And jewels of pearl and gold.

A nobleman owns this fine estate;
And, when the robber he sees,

'Tis not very queer

He quakes with fear,

And trembles a bit in the knees.

He quakes in fear of his precious life, And scarce suppressing a groan,

"Good Tartar," says he,

"Whatever you see

Be pleased to reckon your own."

The Khan looked round in a leisurely way,
As one who is puzzled to choose;
When cocking his ear,

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"Now heaven be praised!" the nobleman cried,
"For many a mercy to me!

I bow me still

Unto his will,

God pity the Tartar!" said he.

-John G. Saxe.

CCII. THE OFFICE-SEEKER'S PLATFORM.

No man can be truly great without money, and the easiest way to get money is to take it on every occasion, no matter whose it may be. I mean to be truly great. It is safe to say, the way society is now constituted, that an honest man is a fool; and if a knave is not the noblest work of God, then what is he? I think that is very well put, what is he? Look at him as he moves in the highest circles of

society, swaggers along the sidewalk, talks of stocks, bonds, and mortgages, and boasts his untold wealth, and say what is he?

As for me, I mean to move in the highest circles of society. I am going to Congress to make money. I shall refuse no bribe, and shut my eyes to corruption. I care nothing for my constituents; let them look out for themselves. That is their business; my business is to get money and be truly great, and move in the highest circles of society. Honesty is the best policy for every body but me. I'll none of it. Not I.

I do not propose to steal from any private individual, and make myself answerable to the laws; but if any man wants a job put through, by which the people can be robbed, and a large share of the plunder find its way into my pocket, you may count on me. I am not a common ruffian; I am a high-toned Congressman. I do not knock a man down with a bludgeon, and go through his pockets; but I offer my congressional services, and then it is nothing to me who knocks him down after that. I can only say that I fear he would be poor picking after I get through with him.

I am a man of enterprise. I go in for railroads and canals, not so much because these things are public benefits, as because they open a channel for wealth to flow into my coffers from the pockets of the unsuspecting public. There is nothing better than money. My religion is money. My patriotism is money. I am perfectly willing to be a patriot if I am paid for it. I am for sale. Whoever pays my price can have me. I am not the only public-spirited patriot of this kind in the United States. You can find hundreds of them in every place of public trust, from a petty postmaster up to the most dignified Senator. They all love their country-for money.

Grab and grasp is the watch-word of the day. Steal while you can, for when you are dead, politically or physically, you can not. A few addlepates talk about putting

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