strength, imperfect as it was, of which the ancient leagues of the Amphictyons, the Achæans, the Lycians, and the modern confederacies of Germany, Holland, Switzerland, afford neither exemplar nor parallel.

In their foreign affairs these same statesmen showed no less sagacity and skill, taking their stand boldly in the rank of nations, maintaining it there, competing with the tactics of practised diplomacy, and extorting from the powers of the old world not only the homage of respect, but the proffers of friendship.

The military events of the Revolution, which necessarily occupy so much of its history, are not less honorable to the actors, nor less fruitful in the evidences they afford of large design and ability of character. But these we need not recount. They live in the memory of all; we have heard them from the lips of those who saw and suffered; they are inscribed on imperishable monuments; the very hills and plains around us tell of achievements which can never die; and the day will come, when the traveller, who has gazed and pondered at Marathon and Waterloo, will linger on the mount where Prescott fought and Warren fell, and say-here is the field where man has struggled in his most daring conflict; here is the field where liberty poured out her noblest blood, and won her brightest and most enduring laurels.

Happy was it for America, happy for the world, that a great name, a guardian genius, presided over her destinies in war, combining more than the virtues of the Roman Fabius and the Theban Epaminondas, and compared with whom, the conquerors of the world, the Alexanders and Cæsars, are but pageants crimsoned with blood and decked with the trophies of slaughter, objects equally of the wonder and the execration of mankind. The hero of America was the conqueror only of his country's foes, and the hearts of his countrymen. To the one he was a terror, and in the other he gained an ascendancy, supreme, unrivalled, the tribute of admiring gratitude, the reward of a nation's love.

The American armies, compared with the embattled legions of the old world, were small in numbers, but the soul of a whole people centred in the bosom of these more than Spartan bands, and vibrated quickly and keenly with every incident that befell them, whether in their feats of valor, or the acuteness of their sufferings. The country itself was one wide battle-field, in which not merely the life-blood, but the dearest interests, the sustaining hopes, of every individual, were at stake. It was not a war of pride and ambition between monarchs, in which an island or a province might be the award of success; it was a contest for personal liberty and civil rights, coming down in its principles to the very sanctuary of home and the fireside, and determining for every man the measure of responsibility he should hold over his own condition, possessions, and happiness. The spectacle was grand and new, and mav

well be cited as the most glowing page in the annals of progressive

man.

The instructive lesson of history, teaching by example, can nowhere be studied with more profit, or with a better promise, than in this revolutionary period of America; and especially by us, who sit under the tree our fathers have planted, enjoy its shade, and are nourished by its fruits. But little is our merit, or gain, that we applaud their deeds, unless we emulate their virtues. Love of country was in them an absorbing principle, an undivided feeling; not of a fragment, a section, but of the whole country. Union was the arch on which they raised the strong tower of a nation's independence. Let the arm be palsied, that would loosen one stone in the basis of this fair structure, or mar its beauty; the tongue mute, that would dishonor their names, by calculating the value of that which they deemed without price.

They have left us an example already inscribed in the world's memory; an example portentous to the aims of tyranny in every land; an example that will console in all ages the drooping aspirations of oppressed humanity. They have left us a written charter as a legacy, and as a guide to our course. But every day convinces us, that a written charter may become powerless. Ignorance may misinterpret it; ambition may assail and faction destroy its vital parts; and aspiring knavery may at last sing its requiem on the tomb of departed liberty. It is the spirit which lives; in this are our safety and our hope; the spirit of our fathers; and while this dwells deeply in our remembrance, and its flame is cherished, ever burning, ever pure, on the altar of our hearts; while it incites us to think as they have thought, and do as they have done, the honor and the praise will be ours, to have preserved unimpaired the rich inheritance, which they so nobly achieved.

Levi Woodbury.

BORN in Francestown, N. H., 1789. DIED at Portsmouth, N. H., 1851.

FREE TRADE.

[Writings of Levi Woodbury. 1852.]

THE HE system, fully carried out, is a harbinger and guaranty of all these. It is not, like other systems, tainted with exclusiveness. It does not, like them, claim a sort of Divine right for some pursuits, and impute a want of it to others; is not, like them, partial, and so far, unjust; and not, like them, officious, and intermeddling with private busi

ness and tastes, so as to govern too much, and confide too much in the wisdom of rulers, rather than in the people at large. By pushing the principles of free trade everywhere and into everything, each country will gradually participate more in the advantages of all, and the imperfections of most of them will stand a better chance to be remedied. Facilities will thus be afforded rather than creating interruptions; improvements be attempted rather than obstacles; and securities provided for all interests, rather than neglect or oppression indulged in as to a part. There will then be a growing disposition to propagate widely all benefits, instead of trying to monopolize them; and nations possessing advantages, whether in arts, arms or science, will permit them to be diffused wider, and thus the whole become more civilized, rather than a portion be kept in darkness and subjugation. In this way most modern advances in machinery, as well as valuable inventions of all kinds, not only enrich and strengthen first those who make them, but are spreading quicker and wider; and will, ere long, cheapen consumption as well as production everywhere, and in time fully pervade every people fitted by situation, education, and habits, to improve by them.

It is always a narrow view of commercial as well as moral policy, to seek profit to ourselves by beggaring others. Nothing is gained durably by overtaxing or overreaching others. On the contrary, the wealth of all nations is promoted by the prosperity of all; and the great social principle, as well as sound political wisdom, requires us to be humane and just to all, liberal to all, and to confer benefits on all rather than seek undue advantages. If less wealth were attendant on such a course of free trade, which is not the case generally, there would be more liberty, and hence more satisfaction. Only a crust and liberty are often preferred to splendid bondage. Mankind are willing, when intelligent, to possess less property, if they can, at the same time, enjoy greater freedom,-freedom in action as well as opinion,-extending of course to both government and conscience; and even these are no more gratifying than freedom in employment and business, in pleasure and locomotion of all kinds. We sigh often to have, as did our great progenitor, the whole earth before us where to choose, and Providence our guide. Any climate or soil, any profession or employment, will, as it should, thus become open to the enterprising. They can select where to dwell, where to trade, or to visit, or labor, as inclination or judgment may prompt; and besides being, in this kind of free intercourse, enabled to buy where cheapest and sell where dearest, the fancy and health can be pursued, and happiness in all ways be promoted. Were it otherwise, our nature revolts at restraint. We object to have even wealth forced upon us. We would fain do nothing by compulsion; like Falstaff not even give reasons in that way. People are willing to be taxed higher, if they are

allowed a free voice in imposing and expending the revenue so as to insure more equality. But the consequence of such a free voice is to stimulate industry, enterprise, and trade, and gradually to lessen those burdens which would otherwise increase, and which, unchecked, tend to break down society by impoverishing all who produce and pay, and driving them in the end to repudiation, insurrection, or revolution.

THE IRON WILL OF ANDREW JACKSON.

[Eulogy on Jackson. Delivered at Portsmouth, N. H., 2 July, 1845.—From the Same.]

BOTH

OTH friends and foes have bestowed on him another characteristic,of being a man of iron will. When this is meant to imply hardness of heart, nothing could be further from the truth, since no child at the sight of suffering overflowed quicker with the milk of human kindness than the stern-visaged warrior. But when it means that his sense of duty was strong, and stronger even than his feelings, the term may not have been misapplied.

His iron will was mere firmness or inflexibility in the cause he deemed right. It was an indomitable resolution to carry out what conscience dictated. Judgment and the fruits of it, opinion and corresponding conduct, it seemed to him ought to be inseparable. He knew of no compromise, or tampering, or half-way measures with what was wrong. This high moral tone, the very highest in the annals of reformers and martyrs the world over, though often imputed to him as a fault, was, in fact, the crowning glory of his character, whether as a man, or a warrior, or a politician. So far from its having proved inconsistent with seeking full advice, and weighing contradictory reasons, and adopting measures of conciliation, where justifiable and wise, it was generally preceded by the amplest inquiries and the most careful deliberation. But a conclusion having been once formed in this manner, the whole powers of his mind and heart were flung into its execution with almost resistless energy; and then, in fortitude to resist opposition, and in courage to brave all difficulties, and inflexible perseverance to carry out measures deemed right, he may well have been called a man of iron,-a man of destiny,-or the hero of the iron will. Nor did this habit, as some have imagined, make him implacable or unforgiving. For, though like others of a warm temperament, making good haters, as well as good lovers and friends, he often forgave his bitterest enemies, and reconciled differences many deemed insuperable. His custom of assuming responsibility in doubtful cases has been another topic of criticism, but was only a branch

of this energetic trait of his character. Blessed with clear perceptions and careful habits of research, he came to more decisive conclusions, and in less time, than most other men; and hence it became his duty under these stronger convictions, to follow them out, and with a manly daring in behalf of what seemed to him right, to act for that right, and act with energy and without fear, whoever else might falter. This, instead of being culpable, seemed at times, amidst fainting and doubting hearts around him, heroic; and if evil was ever connected with it, such a result usually sprung from a defect in forming some opinion, and not in exhibiting the courage and want of hypocrisy to stand by it chivalrously to the last, when not conscious of error.

I

Catherine Maria Sedgwick.

BORN in Stockbridge, Mass., 1789. DIED near Roxbury, Mass., 1867.

DANIEL PRIME.

[Tales and Sketches. 1858.]

REMEMBER, when a child, having my curiosity strongly excited by the fag-end of a story which an old family servant was telling to my elders when I entered the room. "But are you sure," asked a gentle lady, who could not give credit to such a demonstration of emotion, "are you sure his hair actually stood up?"

"As sure as that I see you now, ma'am, and an awful sight it was. He was a thick-set, strong-built fellow, with a tripy skin-lips, cheeks, forehead, all one color; his eyes were gray and large, and his eyebrows black as jet, and solid; but his hair was considerable gray, and cut shortish-stiff, ugly hair it was-and, altogether, he looked as cruel as a meat-axe. He stood all as one as where ma'am stands now. There were two cotton-wicked candles on the table, burning bright, for I had just snuffed them. The colonel sat in his arm-chair, looking terrible-he could look so on them that desarved it—and the clark had his pen in his hand. The colonel gave me a sign; I opened the door, and he came in, as it were into that door, right in Prime's face. I kept my eye on Prime. His hair rose and stood on end, straight and stiff as bristles. Every one took notice of it, and often have I heard the colonel speak of it."

"But what made his hair rise?" I naturally asked. "Do not tell her," interposed the aforesaid gentle lady; "it is too horrid a tale for a child's ears." Then followed the trite hint about "little pitchers," and