lized communities. Nay, so universally acknowledged were his talents in this branch of public service, that his enemies could not deny that he had shown the greatest ability, but they maintained that one who evinced such unusual felicity in his foreign correspondence was necessarily disqualified for higher appointments, and they gravely argued that a Foreign Secretary to be eminent, must be without the accomplishments that should centre in a President. Borne into office on the waves of a mighty political revolution which prostrated the dominion of the arrogant consolidationists, Jefferson manifested the same unpretending patriotism, the same ardent love for the happiness of his species which had marked his course in humbler spheres. Amid the clamors of interested demagogues and the calumnies of vanquished opponents, he pursued the even tenor of his way, unawed by the threats of enemies, and unprovoked by the assaults of a furious opposition. Such was the influence of his pure life, and such the opinion of his unwavering integrity, that a re-election to his high station was secured by a vote that approached to unanimity. Honored thus by his fellow citizens, and relying upon their support, he invariably promulgated those doctrines of state sovereignty and state rights which later administrations, while professing to be democratic, seem sometimes to have thrown aside. It is consoling to those who at the present day are contending against chartered monopolies and special privileges, to know that the sentiments of the immortal Jefferson on these subjects were such as became the man of the people. Averse to the pompous ostentation and unmeaning etiquette to which accident rather than intention had given some sanction, he restored the government to that plainness of manners which, if not essential is at least important in a republic. He sought not to environ himself with ceremonious forms, and thus to create an unwarrantable distinction between the president and the more lowly citizen; but feeling that probity and intellect are the only distinctions of nature, he trusted to his worth and not to cumbrous observances for obtaining from his fellow-citizens a proper share of respect and attention. When the curtain had fallen over the stormy drama of politics, the sage of Monticello resigned without a regret those high dignities which had twice been bestowed upon him by the approbation of the people. But it was impossible for one so distinguished at home and abroad, to insure to himself that perfect seclusion from the world which the contemplative mind sighs after; and accordingly, we find the scientific of Europe and our own land still pursuing, in connection with Jefferson, those inquiries which his researches alone were thought competent to answer. Surrounded by a circle of earnest followers, he enjoyed in retirement the heart-felt satisfaction of feeling, that, although no longer able as in former times to dispense favors and patronage, his memory yet lived in the hearts of all who knew him; and their affectionate remembrances penetrated even into the retreat at Charlottesville. Early inclined to speculative pursuits, and of a gentle temper which the waves of a tempestuous public life had hardly ruffled, ample room was now afforded for the exercise of his peculiar faculties. And throughout all the varied departments of practical knowledge he roamed at will, adorning each with the treasured information of a long experience, and the cool observation of a profound mind. Now too, when the lapse of years had blunted the edge of resentment, he renewed those intimacies which differences of opinion had casually interrupted, and by recalling the toils of '76 and the dangers of that period, enjoyed those pleasures which the aged only feel, the pleasures of retrospection. Of every incident however trivial, of every event however unimportant, he retained a vivid recollection, and amid the coadjutors of youth, "fought all his battles o'er again." In the constant practice of a liberal hospitality, the stranger found a ready welcome at his gate, and to the poor and destitute he ever proved a most bountiful benefactor. Many are the tales which the gratitude of neighbors still preserve of his unobtrusive benevolence, and the simple story of his many kindnesses can be learned in every cottage or hamlet of the vicinity. Devoted ever to the cause of free principles, Jefferson's last public act was to procure for the state of his birth a University founded upon the basis of a fair and open competition, where the young might be trained to virtue and usefulness. The day of his death, half a century from that time which had seen him in the prime of manhood the Champion of Independence, gave the last finish to the picture of a patriotic character-added, as it were, a dramatic interest to the departure of the philanthropic statesman. As the shades of death darkened around him, his earnest prayer was to be spared once again to behold the dawning of that sun which had given being to a nation. When that morning had come, disordered fancy usurping for a time the seat of reason, transported him to other and far different scenes-again he bore a part in the revolutionary struggle, again he combated the arguments of the irresolute, again he was the single-minded, straight-forward politician and orator. Raising himself feebly, while his eye brightened with the fire of youth, he exclaimed, as imagination distorted the present into the past, "Let the committee of safety be sent for,”—a moment, and that eye had lost its lustre, that voice its utterance, and sinking back, the flickering lamp of life gradually, imperceptibly waned away. He died, and a people's tears bedewed his ashes. And to whom was this tribute paid? Not to a laurelled conqueror whom fate had smitten dead in the arms of victory-not to a successful general who urn. had triumphed in many a hard-fought battle-field-not to a mighty conqueror who had added to his country's strength the wealth of vanquished millions-but to an honest republican, who could point to no warlike achievements, who had never written his name in characters of blood upon the scroll of fame, but who had fought a successful fight against the principle of arbitrary power, who had vindicated the eternal truth that all men are equal, who had accomplished a moral victory superior to all the triumphs of all the mighty men of war whom history records upon her storied He died-but still burn his sentiments in our breasts, still lives democracy. That is a sentiment which no danger can intimidate, which no threats can terrify, which no violence can repress. It defies the blight of avarice, and spurns the proffered bribe of corruption. That is a sentiment which refines and elevates the soul of man, which gifts him with new affections, and breathes into him the spirit of an Universal Philanthropy. The doctrine of equal rights and equal duties, founded as it is upon immutable justice, is destined sooner or later to triumph over the artificial distinctions of intolerant aristocracy. Afar in the southern plains fitfully gleams the beacon light which soon, we hope, will kindle into a wide and enduring flame. Away over the eastern ocean streams the reflected fire which speedily, we trust, will illumine radical and regenerated England; revolutionary France will catch the sacred spark, and the splendid conflagration shall startle the Russian autocrat amid the ice-bound and nightridden regions of the north. Democratic principles, we feel assured, are finally to redeem long oppressed humanity, and that day of ransom is not far distant. Ambition may deride, ignorance may ridicule these opinions, the cry of sedition and agrarianism may for a time unite the wise and the good in a crusade against freedom, but when these principles are stricken down, Antæuslike, they will rise from the earth with redoubled vigor: when oppression drives them back, they will retreat only to rally again with renewed efficacy; when they are decayed and withered to all appearance, they will rise from their ashes with more than their wonted fires. They deceive themselves most bitterly, who think that temporary defeats and momentary reverses are to annihilate democracy. Fresh with the vigor, quickened with the life of truth, her defenders bide their time in the full confidence, that no coalition is powerful enough to oppose her resistless march. What care liberals for conquests here or defeats there, for success in this place or disaster in that, such contests bring to them neither excessive joy nor immoderate sorrow, they look forward beyond the narrow limits of the present, not with a fanatical hope, not with a presumptuous confidence, but we trust with an ever enduring hope, with an ever living confidence to some future day, when all shall admit the axiom, that man was never meant by the laws of God to exercise an extorted sway over his fellow man. What gave to Athens, with a limited territory and an inconsiderable population, that undying influence upon habits and taste which for more than twenty centuries she has exercised? What consigned her to a deathless name, to an imperishable renown among the republics of antiquity? It was the fever of democratic energy, which regarded the state as a mistress to whom should be consecrated the offerings that genius could win from eloquence, or philosophy, or poetry, or any or all the arts which dignify society. Where each one feels, that upon himself depends in some degree his country's honor, where a sense of responsibility imparts activity to all, where in short, the citizen is the State, there, in such a people, will be found the real constituents of national grandeur. If, as croaking prophets tell, there be a necessity which urges forward all republics to some point beyond which there is no hereafter, if it be the destiny of this free state thus to fall-be it so. If our career is to be short, at least let it be glorious, if our fall is certain, at least let it be pitied. Ours be the bright career of the gifted and "fierce democratie" of Athens, ours be it to fall as she fell, with the monuments of her greatness round her, and to survive as she survives, in the praises of admiring posterity, rather than to tread on in the beaten track of ancient error, rather than to float upon the dead sea of despotism, and to decay with the noiseless strides of patrician Sparta. A FRAGMENT. THERE have been hours when I have prayed for death When stung to madness by the scorn of those Whose cold hearts never feel; I would have deemed THEY'RE MARRIED. THEY are just married! What an idea of utter wretchedness do these few and simple words convey! The historian may talk of the passions which have filled this fair world with violence, and polluted it with human slaughter; the philosopher may descant on "the ills which flesh is heir to;" the poet may give loose rein to a wild imagination, and picture scenes of distress most frightful, which shall make the heart to sicken and the brain to reel; but after all has been done-earth, air, and sea-worlds above and below, exhausted of their images and scenes of horror; to me, they are all but light sketches when compared with the vivid picture of misery unmingled, which is suggested by the simple word "married." Death and marriage lie as contiguous in my associations, as they are placed by newspaper editors in their columns; there is but a line-a mathematical line between them,—and much as I value life and the bright smiling world around, it would be a question easy of decision, "which of the two to choose, slavery or death." I will tell, fair reader, what doubtless you have presupposed-that I am a decided Old Bachelor :-I say old, because that is a constituent part of the generic term; the epithet, I must confess, does not over well comport with the number of my years or gray hairs; but it matters not, all Bachelors are old :-I was not always thus. The time has been when I was found much in the society of those who are sometimes termed facetiously the fairer portion of creation animate; not many years have flown, since first and foremost in the humbugged throng of woman's admirers, I wore with pride the silken chains which now I deem man's bitter curse ;-nay more, I even entertained a sort of peculiar kind feeling for a certain beautiful young lady. "My friend, you were refused;"-Oh no, gentle reader, such happy fortune would never have been mine. But my good genius interfered and saved me from the abyss into which I might have plunged. Once upon a lovely morning in the month of June, as I was breakfasting in my room, and meditating on the fearful horrors of the precipice from the verge of which I had just retreated, dwelling upon the sacrifice which I had well nigh made of independence and happiness, at least, until king Death (no longer king of terrors) should relieve me, my servant brought the morning paper. As usual, while sipping my coffee, I ran over its columns of politics, philosophy, love, &c., until my attention was suddenly arrested by a word which bore upon its face the familiar look of an old acquaintance, and in a connection at the sight of which I was thunderstruck. I rubbed my eyes and |