and perhaps his friends, to attain it,-I have said to myself, this man gives too much for his whistle.

When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly employing himself in political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect, he pays, indeed, says I, too much for his whistle.

If I knew a miser who gave up every kind of comfortable living, all the pleasure of doing good to others,-all the esteem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating wealth; poor man, says I, you do, indeed, pay too much for your whistle.

When I meet a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laudable improvement of the mind or of his fortune to mere corporeal sensations,-Mistaken man, says I, you are providing pain for yourself instead of pleasure, you give too much for your whistle.

If I see one fond of fine clothes, fine furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts debts, and ends his career in prison,—Alas, says I, he has paid dear, very dear, for his whistle.

When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl, married to an illnatured brute of a husband,- What a pity it is, says I, that she

has paid so much for a whistle.

In short, I conceived that a great part of the miseries of mankind were brought upon them by the false estimates they had made of the value of things, and by their giving too much for their whistles.

A PARABLE AGAINST PERSECUTION.1

1. And it came to pass after these things, that Abraham sat in the door of his tent about the going down of the sun.

2. And behold, a man, bowed with age, came from the way of the wilderness, leaning on a staff.

3. And Abraham arose and met him, and said unto him, "Turn in, I pray thee, and wash thy feet, and tarry all night, and thou shalt arise early on the morrow, and go on thy way.'

4. But the man said, "Nay, for I will abide under this tree." 5. And Abraham pressed him greatly; so he turned, and they went into the tent, and Abraham baked unleavened bread, and they did eat.

1 The substance of this beautiful Parable was not original with Franklin, for Jeremy Taylor gives it as taken from the "Jew's Book;" and it is traced back centuries further. The true author is not known; but it never attracted general attention until in the hands of Franklin it assumed the scriptural style. Franklin was in the habit of amusing himself by reading it to divines and others well versed in the Scriptures, and obtaining their opinions upon it, which were sometimes very diverting.

6. And when Abraham saw that the man blessed not God, he said unto him, "Wherefore dost thou not worship the most high God, Creator of heaven and earth?"

7. And the man answered and said, "I do not worship the God thou speakest of, neither do I call upon his name; for I have made to myself a god, which abideth alway in mine house, and provideth me with all things."

8. And Abraham's zeal was kindled against the man, and he arose and fell upon him, and drove him forth with blows into the wilderness.

9. And at midnight God called unto Abraham, saying, “Abraham, where is the stranger?"

10. And Abraham answered and said, "Lord, he would not worship thee, neither would he call upon thy name; therefore have I driven him out from before my face into the wilderness."

11. And God said, "Have I borne with him these hundred ninety and eight years, and nourished him, and clothed him, notwithstanding his rebellion against me; and couldst not thou, that art thyself a sinner, bear with him one night?"

12. And Abraham said, "Let not the anger of the Lord wax hot against his servant; lo, I have sinned; lo, I have sinned; forgive me, I pray thee."

13. And Abraham arose, and went forth into the wilderness, and sought diligently for the man, and found him, and returned with him to the tent; and when he had entreated him kindly, he sent him away on the morrow with gifts.

14. And God spake again unto Abraham, saying, "For this thy sin shall thy seed be afflicted four hundred years in a strange land;

15. "But for thy repentance will I deliver them; and they shall come forth with power, and with gladness of heart, and with much substance."

TURNING THE GRINDSTONE.

When I was a little boy, I remember, one cold winter's morning, I was accosted by a smiling man with an axe on his shoulder My pretty boy," said he, "has your father a grindstone?" "Yes, sir," said I. "You are a fine little fellow," said he; "will you let me grind my axe on it?" Pleased with the compliment of "fine little fellow," "Oh yes, sir," I answered: "it is down in the shop." "And will you, my man," said he, patting me on the head, "get me a little hot water?" How could I refuse? I ran, and soon brought a kettleful. "How old are you? and what's your name?" continued he, without waiting for a reply: "I am sure you are one of the finest lads that ever I have seen: will you just turn a few minutes for me?"

Tickled with the flattery, like a little fool, I went to work, and bitterly did I rue the day. It was a new axe, and I toiled and tugged till I was almost tired to death. The school-bell rang, and I could not get away; my hands were blistered, and the axe was not half ground. At length, however, it was sharpened; and the man turned to me with, "Now, you little rascal, you've played truant scud to the school, or you'll buy it!" "Alas!" thought I, "it is hard enough to turn a grindstone this cold day; but now to be called a little rascal is too much."

It sank deep in my mind; and often have I thought of it since. When I see a merchant over polite to his customers,begging them to take a little brandy, and throwing his goods on the counter, thinks I, That man has an axe to grind. When I see a man flattering the people, making great professions of attachment to liberty, who is in private life a tyrant, methinks, Look out, good people! that fellow would set you turning grindstones. When I see a man hoisted into office by party spirit, without a single qualification to render him either respectable or useful,alas! methinks, deluded people, you are doomed for a season to turn the grindstone for a booby.

MEMORIAL TO CONGRESS ON SLAVERY.

To the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States: From a persuasion that equal liberty was originally the portion and is still the birthright of all men, and influenced by the strong ties of humanity and the principles of their institution, your memorialists conceive themselves bound to use all justifiable endeavors to loosen the bands of slavery, and promote a general enjoyment of the blessings of freedom. Under these impressions, they earnestly entreat your serious attention to the subject of slavery; that you will be pleased to countenance the restoration of liberty to those unhappy men who alone in this land of freedom are degraded into perpetual bondage, and who, amidst the general joy of surrounding freemen, are groaning in servile subjection; that you will devise means for removing this inconsistency from the character of the American people; that you will promote mercy and justice toward this distressed race; and that you will step to the very verge of the power vested in you for discouraging every species of traffic in the persons of our fellow-men.'

This may be found in the "Federal Gazette," February, 1790, only two months before the death of the illustrious sage.

JOHN WITHERSPOON, 1722—1794.

Or the statesmen and scholars of our Revolutionary period, few did more good, er exerted a wider influence in their generation, than John Witherspoon. He was born in the parish of Yester, near Edinburgh, Scotland, on the 5th of February, 1722. His father was a clergyman of the Church of Scotland, much respected for his piety and learning; and the son, after going through the usual courses of study in the University of Edinburgh in literature, science, and theology, was licensed to preach at the age of twenty-one. He was first settled in the parish of Beith, in the west of Scotland, whence, in a few years, he removed to the flourishing manufacturing town of Paisley. Here he continued till the year 1768, when he was elected by the trustees of Princeton College the president of that institution. The fame of his talents and learning had preceded him, and consequently he brought to the college a large accession of students, and was the means of greatly increasing its funds, and placing it on a foundation of permanent usefulness. Indeed, few men could combine more important qualifications for the presidency of a literary institution,-talents, extensive attainments, commanding personal appearance, and an admirable faculty for governing young men, and exciting in them a noble emulation to excel in their studies.

But he was soon to enter upon a new sphere of duty. Becoming an American the moment he landed upon our shores, he was selected by the citizens of New Jersey, in 1776, as a delegate to the immortal Congress that promulgated the Declaration of Independence, to which instrument he affixed his name. He continued to represent the State of New Jersey in the general Congress, from 1776 to 1782, and in practical business-talent and devotion to public affairs he was second to none in that body. It would be impossible, in this brief sketch, to specify the numerous services which he rendered to his country in the dark hours of her Revolutionary history; but one thing cannot be omitted,—the ability which he displayed as a member of the committee to consider the state of the currency and the finances of the country. Little did men dream that a theologian, bred in academic halls, could prepare such papers on money and finance as were presented by Dr. Witherspoon; for it is doubtful whether that most difficult subject was ever treated in a more masterly manner.

When he retired from the national councils in 1791, he married his second wife, which excited some attention, as he was in his seventieth year, and the lady, distinguished for her beauty and accomplishments, but twenty-three. He then went to his country-place, about one mile from Princeton, having two years before partially given up his duties as president of the college to the vice-president, his sonin-law, Dr. Samuel Smith. At length bodily infirmities began to fall heavily upon him;. still he would not desist from the duties of his ministry, nor from attending at the college, as far as his health and strength would permit. But his

1 "No man thinks of Witherspoon as a Briton, but as an American of the Americans: as the counsellor of Morris, the correspondent of Washington, the rival of Franklin in his sagacity, and of Reed in his resolution; one of the boldest in that Declaration of Independence, and one of the most revered in the debates of the Congress."-Rev. J. W. Alexander's Princeton Address.

useful life was now drawing to a close, and on the 15th of November, 1794, in the seventy-third year of his age, he entered into his rest.

Dr. Witherspoon's works were published after his death, in four volumes, with a memoir by the Rev. Dr. John Rodgers. They consist of Sermons; an Inquiry into the Nature and Effects of the Stage; Lectures on Moral Philosophy; Lectures on Eloquence; Lectures on Divinity; Letters on Education; Letters on Marriage; An Essay on Money as a Medium of Commerce; his Speeches in Congress; and a variety of essays on moral and political subjects. All these give abundant evidence of the learning, piety, sound judgment, and eloquence of their author. But none of them show one of the most prominent traits in his character,-a remarkably ready and keen wit. Indeed, his fund of refined humor and delicate satire seemed inexhaustible, and it burst out on almost all occasions.2 This made him a most pleasing and entertaining companion in private life, and the charm of every social circle.

THE PERNICIOUS EXAMPLE OF THE STAGE.

It is a known truth, established by the experience of all ages, that bad example has a powerful and unhappy influence upon human characters. Sin is of a contagious and spreading nature, and the human heart is but too susceptible of the infection. This may be ascribed to several causes, and to one in particular which is applicable to the present case, that the seeing of sin frequently committed must gradually abate that horror which we ought to have of it upon our minds, and which serves to keep us from yielding to its solicitations. Frequently seeing the most terrible objects renders them familiar to our view, and makes us behold them with less emotion. And from seeing sin without reluctance, the transition is easy to a compliance with its repeated importunity, especially as there are latent remaining dispositions to sinning in every heart that is but imperfectly sanctified. It will be difficult to assign any other reason why wickedness is always carried to a far greater height in large and populous cities than in

In this he was excelled by none of his contemporaries, except the learned Charles Nisbet, D.D., the first President of Dickinson College; and many a keen encounter is said to have taken place between the two rival wits and divines. One particularly occurs to me. At a casual meeting in the streets of Philadelphia, Dr. Nisbet replied to the question put by his companion about his health, that he did not feel very well, that he had a kind of "ringing in his head." "Well, and don't you know what that's the sign of?" said Dr. Witherspoon. "No, sir: what is it?" 66 "It's a sign that it's hollow." Why, sir, does yours never ring?" said Dr. Nisbet. "No, never," replied his friend. "And don't you know what that's the sign of?" "No: what is it?" "It's a sign that it's oracked."

2 For instance; when Burgoyne's army was captured, General Gates despatched one of his aids to Congress to carry the intelligence. But he suffered himself to be delayed on the way, so that when he reached Philadelphia he found the news had got there some days before. When, therefore, Congress was about to vote the messenger a sword, Dr. Witherspoon rose and begged leave to move that instead of a sword they should present him with a pair of golden spurs.