made provision for the public debt, and for that patriotic army whose interests and welfare were always so dear to him; and by laws wisely framed, and of admirable effect, raised the commerce and navigation of the country, almost at once, from depression and ruin, to a state of prosperity. Nor were his eyes open to these interests alone. He viewed with equal concern its agriculture and manufactures, and so far as they came within the regular exercise of the powers of this government, they experienced regard and favor.

It should not be omitted, gentlemen, even in this slight reference to the general measures and general principles of the first President, that he saw and felt the full value and importance of the judicial department of the government. An upright and able administration of the laws, he held to be indispensable to public happiness and public liberty. The temple of justice, in his judgment, was a sacred place, and he would profane and pollute it who should assign any to minister in it, not spotless in character, not incorruptible in integrity, not competent by talent and learning, not fit objects of unhesitating trust.

Among other admonitions, Washington has left us, in his last communication to his country, an exhortation against the excesses of party-spirit. A fire not to be quenched, he yet conjures us not to fan and feed the flame. Undoubtedly, gentlemen, it is the greatest danger of our system, and of our time. Undoubtedly, if that system should be overthrown, it will be the work of excessive party-spirit, acting on the government, which is dangerous enough, or acting in the government, which is a thousand times more dangerous-for government, then, becomes nothing but organized party; and in the strange vicissitudes of human affairs, it may come at last, perhaps, to exhibit the singular paradox of government itself being in opposition to its own powers, at war with the very elements of its own existence. Such cases are hopeless.

As men may be protected against murder, but cannot be guarded against suicide, so government may be shielded from the assaults of external foes, but nothing can save it, when it chooses to lay violent hands on itself.

ADDRESS CONCLUDED.

FINALLY, gentlemen, there was in the breast of Washington one sentiment so deeply felt, so constantly uppermost, that no proper occasion escaped without its utterance. From the letter which he signed, in behalf of the convention, when the constitution was sent out to the people, to the moment when he put his hand to that last paper, in which he addressed his countrymen, the union, the union was the great object of his thoughts. In that first letter, he tells them that to him, and his brethren of the convention, union is the greatest interest of every true American; and in that last paper he conjures them to regard that unity of government, which constitutes them one people, as the very palladium of their prosperity and safety, and the security of liberty itself. He regarded the union of these states, not so much one of our blessings, as the great treasure-house which contained them all. Here, in his judgment, was the great magazine of all our means of prosperity; here, as he thought, and as every true American still thinks, are deposited all our animating prospects, all our solid hopes for future greatness. He has taught us to maintain this government, not by seeking to enlarge its powers, on the one hand, nor by surrendering them on the other; but by an administration of them, at once firm and moderate, adapted for objects truly national, and carried on in a spirit of justice and equity.

The extreme solicitude for the preservation of the union, at all times manifested by him, shows not only the opinion he entertained of its usefulness, but his clear perception of those causes which were likely to spring up to endanger it, and which, if once they should overthrow the present system, would leave little hope of any future beneficial re-union. Of all the presumptions indulged by presumptuous man, that is one of the rashest, which looks for repeated and favorable opportunities for the deliberate establishment of united government over distinct and widely extended communities. Such a thing has happened once in human affairs, and but once: the event stands out as a prominent exception to all ordinary history; and unless we suppose ourselves running into an age of miracles, we may not expect its repetition.

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Washington, therefore, could regard, and did regard, nothing as of paramount political interest, but the integrity of

the Union itself. With a united Government, well administered, he saw we had nothing to fear; and without it, nothing to hope. The sentiment is just, and its momentous truth should solemnly impress the whole country. If we might regard our country as personated in the spirit of Washington; if we might consider him as representing her, in her past renown, her present prosperity, and her future career, and as in that character demanding of us all, to account for our conduct; as political men, or as private citizens, how should he answer him, who has ventured to talk of disunion and dismemberment? Or, how should he answer him, who dwells perpetually on local interests, and fans every kindling flame of local prejudice? How should he answer him, who would array State against State, interest against interest, and party against party, careless of the continuance of that unity of Government which constitutes us one People.

Gentlemen, the political prosperity which this country has attained, and which it now enjoys, it has acquired mainly through the instrumentality of the present Government. While this agent continues, the capacity of attaining to still higher degrees of prosperity exists also. We have, while this lasts, a political life, capable of beneficial exertion, with power to resist or overcome misfortunes, to sustain us against the ordinary accidents of human affairs, and to promote, by active efforts, every public interest. But dismemberment strikes at the very being which preserves these faculties; it would lay its rude and ruthless hand on this great agent itself. It would sweep away, not only what we possess, but all power of regaining lost, or acquiring new, possessions.— It would leave the country, not only bereft of its prosperity and happiness, but without limbs, or organs, or faculties, by which to exert itself hereafter, in the pursuit of that prosperity and happiness.

Other misfortunes may be borne, or their effects overcome. If disastrous war sweep our commerce from the ocean, another generation may renew it; if it exhaust our treasury, future industry may replenish it; if it desolate and lay waste our fields, still, under a new cultivation, they will grow green again, and ripen to future harvests. It were but a trifle, even if the walls of yonder Capitol were to crumble, if its lofty pillars should fall, and its gorgeous decorations be all covered by the dust of the valley. All these might be rebuilt. But who shall re-construct the fabric of demolished

Government? Who shall rear again the well-proportioned columns of Constitutional Liberty? Who shall frame together the skilful architecture which unites National sovereignty with State rights, individual security, and public prosperity? No, gentlemen, if these columns fall, they will be raised not again. Like the Colloseum and the Parthenon, they will be destined to a mournful, a melancholy immortality. Bitterer tears, however, will flow over them, than were ever shed over the monuments of Roman or Grecian art; for they will be the remnants of a more glorious edifice than Greece or Rome ever saw-the edifice of Constitutional American Liberty.

But, gentlemen, let us hope for better things. Let us trust in that Gracious Being who has hitherto held our country, as in the hollow of his hand. Let us trust to the virtue and intelligence of the People, and to the efficacy of religious obligation. Let us trust to the influence of Washington's example. Let us hope that that fear of Heaven, which expels all other fear, and that regard to duty, which transcends all other regard, may influence public men and private citizens, and lead our country still onward in her happy career. Full of these gratifying anticipations and hopes, let us look forward to the end of that century which is now commenced. A hundred years hence, other disciples of Washington will celebrate his birth, with no less of sincere admiration than we now commemorate it. When they shall meet, as we now meet, to do themselves and him that honor, so surely as they shall see the blue summits of his native mountains rise in the horizon; so surely as they shall behold the river on whose banks he lived, and on whose banks he rests, still flowing to the sea; so surely may they see, as we now see, the flag of the Union floating on the top of the capitol; and then, as now, may the sun in his course visit no land more free, more happy, more lovely, than this our own Country. Gentlemen, I propose—

THE MEMORY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON.

MOUNT WASHINGTON.

MOUNT of the clouds, on whose Olympian height
The tall rocks brighten in the ether air;

And spirits from the skies come down at night,

To chant immortal songs to Freedom there!
Thine is the rock of other regions; where
The world of life which blooms so far below
Sweeps a wide waste: no gladning scenes appear,
Save where, with silvery flash, the waters flow
Beneath the far off mountain, distant, calm, and slow.
Thine is the summit where the clouds repose,
Or, eddying wildly, round thy cliffs are borne;
When Tempest mounts his rushing car, and throws
His billowy mist amid the thunder's home!
Far down the deep ravines the whirlwinds come,
And bow the forest as they sweep along;

While, roaring deeply from their rocky womb;
The storms come forth-and, hurrying darkly on,
Amid the echoing peaks, the revelry prolong!

And, when the tumult of the air is fled,
And quenched in silence all the tempest flame,
There come the dim forms of the mighty dead,
Around the steep which bears the hero's name.
The stars look down upon them— and the same
Pale orb that glistens o'er his distant grave,
Gleams on the summit that enshrines his fame,
And lights the cold tear of the glorious brave-
The richest, purest tear, that memory ever gave!
Mount of the clouds, when winter round thee throws
The hoary mantle of the dying year,
Sublime, amid thy canopy of snows,

Thy towers in bright magnificence appear!
'Tis then we view thee with a chilling fear
Till summer robes thee in her tints of blue;

When, lo! in softened grandeur, far, yet clear,

Thy battlements stand clothed in heaven's own hue, To swell as Freedom's home on man's unbounded view!

THE CONSTANCY

Of Nature contrasted with the Changes in Human Life.

How like eternity doth nature seem

To life of man-that short and fitful dream!
I look around me;-no where can I trace