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prisoner in Spielberg was ever more cautiously deprived of writing materials. The soot was scraped carefully from the chimney. places; outposts of expert rifle-shooters rendered it sure death for any goose (who came clad in feathers) to approach within a certain limited distance of North Bend ; and all domestic fowls about the premises were reduced to the condition of Plato's original man. By these precautions the General was saved. Parva componere magnis, I re. member, that, when party-spirit once ran high among my people, choice of a new deacon 7 occasion of the

having my preferences, yet not caring too openly to express them, made use of an innocent fraud to bring about that result which I deemed most de. sirable. My stratagem was no other than the throwing a copy of the Complete LetterWriter in the way of the candidate whom I wished to defeat. He caught the infection, and addressed a short note to his constituents, in which the opposite party detected so many and so grave improprieties he had modelled it upon the letter of a young lady accepting a proposal of marriage), that he not only lost his election, but, falling under a suspicion of Sabellianism and I know not what (the widow Endive assured me that he was a Paralipomenon, to her certain knowl. edge), was forced to leave the town. Thus it is that the letter killeth.

The object which candidates propose to themselves in writing is to convey no meaning at all. And here is a quite unsuspected pitfall into which they successively plunge headlong. For it is precisely in such cryptographies that mankind are prone to seek for and find a wonderful amount and variety of significance. Omne ignotum pro mirifico. Hw do we admire at the antique world striving to crack those oracular nuts from Delphi, Hammon, and elsewhere, in only one of which can I so much as surmise that any kernel had ever lodged ; that, namely, wherein Apollo confessed that he was mortal. One Didymus is, moreover, related to have written six thousand books on the single subject of grammar, a topic rendered only more tenebrific by the labors of his succes. sors, and which seems still to possess an attraction for authors in proportion as they can make nothing of it. A singular loadstone for theologians, also. is the Beast in the Apocalypse, whereof, in the course of iny studies, I have noted two hundred and three Several interpretations, each lethiferal to all the rest. Non nostrum est tantas componere lites, yet I have iyself ventured upon a two hundred and fourth, which I embodied in a discourse preached on occasion of the demise of the late usurper, Napoleon Bonaparte, and which quieterl, in a large measure, the minds o my people. It is true that iny views on this important point were ar. Hently controverted by Mr. Shearjashub Holden, the then preceptor of our academy,

and in other particulars a very deserving and sensible young man, though possessing a somewhat limited knowledge of the Greek tongue. But his heresy struck down no deep root, and, he having been lately removed by the hand of Providence, I had the satisfaction of reaffirming my cherished sentiments in a sermon preached upon the Lord's day inmediately succeeding his funeral. This might seem like taking an unfair advantage, did I not add that he had made provision in his last will (being celibate) for the publication of a posthumous tractate in support of his own dangerous opinions.

I know of nothing in our modern times which approaches so nearly to the ancient oracle as the letter of a Presidential candi. date. Now, among the Greeks, the eating of beans was strictly forbiaden to all such as had it in mind to consult those expert anphibologists, and this same prohibition on the part of Pythagoras to his disciples is understood to imply an abstinence from politics, beans having been used as ballots. That other explication, quod videiicet sensus eo ciło obtundi existimaret, though suy Jorted pugnis et calcilus by many of the learned, and not wanting the countenance of Cicero, is confuted by the larger experience of New England. On the whole, I think it safer to apply here the rule of intrepretation which now generally obtains regard to antique cosmogonies, myths, fables, proverbial expressions, and knetty points generally, which is, to find a commen-sense mething, and then select whatever can be imagined the most opposite thereto. In this way we arrive at the conclusion, that the Greeks objected to the questioning of candidates, . And very properly, if, as I conceive, the chief point be not to discover what a person in that i osition is, or what he will do, but whether he can be elected. Vos exemplaria Graca nocturna versate manu, versate diurna.

But, since an imitation of the Greeks in this particular (the asking of questions being one chief privilege of freemen) is hardly to be hoped for, and our candidates will answer, whether they are questioned or not, I would recommend that these ante-electionary dialogues should be carried on by symbols, as were the diplomatic correspondences of the Scythians and Macrobii, or confined to the language of signs, like the famous interview of Panurge and Goatsnose. A candidate might then convey a suitable reply to all committees of inquiry by closing one eye, or by presenting them with a phial of Egyptian darkness to be speculated upon by their respective constituencies. These answers would be susceptible of whatever retrospective construction the exigencies of the polit. ical campaign might seem to demand, and the candidate could take his position on either side of the fence with entire consist. ency. Or, if letters must be written, profit. able use might be made of the Dighton rock

hieroglyphic or the cuneiform script, every fresh Jecipherer of which is enabled to educe a different meaning, whereby a sculp ured stone or two supplies us, and will probably continue to supply postcrity, with a very vast and various body of authentic listory. For even the briefest epistle in the ordinary chirography is dangerous. There is scarce any style so compressed that superfluous words inay not be detected in it. A severe critic might curtail that famous brevity of Cæsar's by two thirds, drawing his pen through the supererogatory veni and vidi. Perhaps, after all, the surest footing of hope is to be found in the rapidly increasing tendency to demand less and less of qualiti cation in candidates. Already have statesmanship, experience, and the possession (nay, the profession, even) of principles beer rejected as superfluous, and may not the patriot reasonably hope that the ability to write will follow? At present, there may be death in pot-hooks as well as pots, the loop of a letter may suffice for a bow-string, and all the dreadful heresies of Antislavery may lurk in a flourish.-H. W.]

inorning opens upon him her eyes full of its ing sunshine, the sky yearns down to him, and there he lies termenung. () sleep! let me not profane thy holy name by caim that stertorous unconsciousness a slumber! By and by comes along the State, Gori's vicar Does she say, -"wiy poor, forlorn foster child ! Behold here a' force which I will make dig and plant and build for me"? Noi so, but, — " Here is a recruit ready-made to my hand, a piece of destroying energy lying unprofitably idle." So she claps an ugly gray suit on him, puts a musket in his gras, and sends hin off, with Gubernatorial and other godspeeds, to do duty as a destroyer.

I made one of the crowd at the last Me. chanics' Fair, and, with the rest, stood gazing in wonder at a perfect machine, with its soul of fire, its boiler-heart that sent the hot blood pulsing along the iron arteries, and is thews of steel. And while I was admiring the adaptation of means to end, the harmonious involutions of contrivance, and the neverbewildered complexity, I saw a grimed and greasy fellow, the imperious engine's lackey and crudge, whose sole office was to let fall, at intervals, a drop or two of oil upon a cer. tain joint. Then my soul said within me, See there a piece of mechanisın to which that other you marvel at is but as the rude first effort of a child, -- a force which not merely suffices to set a few wheels in motion, but which can send an impulse all through the infinite future, - a contrivance, not for turning out pins, or stitching button-holes, but for making Hamlets and Lears. And yet this thing of iron shall be housed, waited on, guarded from rust and dust, and it shall be a crime but so much as to scratch it with a pin ; while the other, with its fire of God in it, shall be buffeted hither and thither, and finally sent carefully a thousand miles to be the target for a Méxican cannon-ball. tinthrifty Mother State! My heart burned within me for pity and indignation, and I renewed this covenant with my own soul, -- In aliis mansuetus cre, at, in blasphemus con. tra Christum, non ita. H. W]

No. VIII.

A SECOND LETTER FROM B. SAWIN, ESQ.

(IN the following epistle, we behold Mr. Sawin returning, a miles emeritus, to the bosom of his family. Quantum mutatus ! The good Father of us all had doubtless in. trusted to the keeping of this child of his certain faculties of a constructive kind. He had put in him a share of that vital force, the nicest economy of every minute atom of which is necessary to the perfect development of Humanity. He had given him a brain and heart, and so had equipped his soul with the two strong wings of knowledge and love, whereby it can mount to hang its nest under the eaves of heaven. And this child, so dowered, he had intrusted to the keeping of his vicar, the State. How stands the account of that stewardship? The State, or Socie:y (call her by what name you will), had taken no manner of thought of him till she saw him swept out into the street, the pitiful leavings of last night's debauch, with cigar-ends, lemon-parings, tobacco-quids, slops, vile stenches, and the whole loathsome next-morning of the bar-room, -- an own child of the Almighty God! I remember him as he was brought to be christened, a ruddy, rugged babe; and now there he wallows, recking, seething, - the dead corpse, not of a man, but of a soul. - a putrefying lump, horrible for the life that is in it. Comes the wind of heaven, that good Samaritan, and parts the hair upon his forehead, nor is too nice to kiss those parched, cracked lips; the

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I SPOSE you wonder ware I be; I can't

tell, fer the soul o' me, Exacly ware I be myselt, - meanin' by

thet the holl o' me. Wen I left hum, I hed two legs, an'

they worn't bad ones neither, (The scaliest trick they ever played wuz

bringin' on me hither,) Now one on 'em's I dunno ware;

they thought I wuz adyin', An' sawed it off because they said 't wuz

kin' o' mortifyin'; I'm willin' to believe it wuz, an yit I

don't see, nuther,

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Wy one should take to feelin' cheap a

minnit sooner 'n t'other, Sence both wuz equilly to biame; but

things is ez they be; It took on so they took it off, an' thet's

enough fer me : There's one good thing, though, to be

said about iny wooden new one, The liquor can't git into it ez't used to

in the true one ; So it saves drink; an' then, besides, a

feller could n't beg A gretter blessin' then to hev one ollers

sober peg; It's true a chap's in want o' two fer

follerin' a drum, But all the march l’m up to now is jest

to Kingdom Come. I've lost one eye, but thet 's a loss it's

easy to supply Dut o' the glory that I've gut, fer thet

is all my eye; An' one is big enough, I guess, by

diligently usin' it, To see all I shall ever git by way

o'

pay fer losin' it; Dif'cers, I notice, who git paid fer all

our thumps an' kickins, Du wal by keepin' single eyes arter the

fattest pickins; So, ez the eye's put fairly out, I 'll larn

to go without it, An' not allow myself to be no gret put

out about it. Now, le' me see, thet is n't all ; I used,

'fore leavin' Jaalam, To count things on my finger-eends,

but sutthin' seems to ail 'em : Ware's my left hand? O, darn it, yes,

I recollect wut's come on 't; I haint no left arm but my right, an'

thet 's gut jest a thumb on't ; It aint so hendy ez it wuz to cal’late a

sum on 't. I've hed some ribs broke, - six (I

b'lieve), -1 haint kep' no ac

count on 'em; Wen pensions git to be the talk, I'll

settle the amount on 'em. An' now I'm speakin' about ribs, it

kin' o' brings to mind One thet I couldn't never break,

one I lef' behind ;

I spose you think I'm comin' back ez

opperlunt ez thunder, With shiploads o' gold images an’ varus

sorts o' plunder; Wal, 'fore I vulliuteered, I thought this

country wuz a sort o' Canaan, a reg'lar Promised Land flowin'

with rum an’ water, Ware propaty growed up like time,

without no cultivation, An' gold wuz dug ez taters be among

our Yankee nation, Ware nateral advantages were pufficly

amazin', Ware every rock there wuz about with

precious stuns wuz blazin', Ware mill-sites filled the country up ez

thick ez you could cram 'em, An' desput rivers run about abeggin'

folks to dam 'em ; Then there were meetinhouses, tu,

chockful o'gold an' silver Thet you could take, an'no one couldn't hand

ye

in no bill fer:Thet's wut I thought afore I went,

thet's wut them fellers told us Thet stayed to hum an' speechified an'

to the buzzards sold us; I thought thet gold mines could be gut

cheaper than Chiny asters, An' see myself acomin' back like sixty

Jacob Astors; But sech idees soon melted down and

did n't leave a grease-spot ; I vow my holl sheer o' the spiles

would n't come nigh a V spot : Although, most anvwares we've ben,

you need n't break no locks, Nor run no kin' o' risks, to fill your

pocket full o'rocks.

- the

you 're

I guess I mentioned in my last some o'

the pateral feeturs O'this all-fiered buggy hole in th’ way

o' awtle creeturs, But 1 fergut to name (new things to

speak on so abounded) How one day you ʼll most die o' thust,

an’'fore the next git drownded. The clymit seems to me jest like a teapot made o'

pewter Our Prudence hed, thet would n't pour

(all she could du) to suit her ; Fust place the leaves 'ould choke the

spout, so 's not a drop 'ould dreen

out, Then Prude 'ould tip an' tip an' tip,

till the holl kit bust clean out, The kiver-hinge-pin bein'lost, tea

leaves an' tea an' kiver 'ould all come down kerswosh ! ez

though the dam broke in a river. Jest so 't is here; holl months there

aint a day o' rainy weather, An'jest ez th' officers 'ould be alayin'

heads together Ez t how they'd mix their drink at

sech a milingtary deepot, 'Tould pour ez though the lid wuz off

the everlastin' teapot. The cons’quence is, thet 1 shall take,

wen l'm allowed to leave here, One piece o' propaty along, -an'thet's

o

the shakin' fever; It's reggilar employment, though, an'

thet aint thought to harm one, Nor 't aint so tiresome ez it wuz with

t' other leg an' arm on; An' it's a consolation, tu, although it To hev it said you're some gret shakes

in any kin' o' way. 'T worn't very long, I tell ye wut, I

thought o' fortin-makin', One day a reg'lar shiver-de-freeze, an'

next ez good ez bakin', One day abrilin' in the sand, then

smoth'rin’in the mashes, Git up all sound, be put to bed a mess

o' hacks an' smashes. But then, thinks I, at any rate there's

glory to be hed, Thet 's an investment, arter all, thet

may n't turn out so bad ; But somehow, wen we'd fit an' licked,

I ollers found the thanks

Gut kin' o' lodged afore they come ez

low down ez the ranks ; The Gin'rals gut the biggest sheer, the

Cunnles next, an' so on, — We never gut a blasted mite o glory

ez I know' on ; An' spose we hed, I wonder how

goin' to contrive its Division so's to give a piece to twenty

thousand privits; Ef you should multiply by ten the por

tion o' the brav'st one, You would n't git more 'n half enough

to speak of on a grave-stun; We git the licks, - we're jest the grist

thet 's put into War's hoppers; Leftenants is the lowest grade thet

helps pick up the coppers. It may suit folks thet go agin a body

with a soul in 't, An' aint contented with a hide without

a bagnet hole in 't; But glory is a kin' o' thing I sha'n't

pursue no furder, Coz thet 's the off'cers parquisite,

yourn 's on’y jest the murder. Wal, arter I gin glory up, thinks I at

least there's one Thing in the bills we aint hed yit, an'

thet 's the GLORIOUS FUN ; Ef once we git to Mexico, we fairly

may persume we All day an' night shall revel in the halls

o Montezumy. I'll tell ye wut my revels wuz, an' see

how you would like 'em ; We never gut inside the hall : the nigh

est ever I come Wuz stan’in' sentry in the sun (an',

sact, it seemed a cent’ry) A ketchin' smells o' biled an' roast thet

come out thru the entry, An' hearin' ez I sweltered thru my

passes an' repasses, A rat-tat-too o' knives an' forks, a

clinkty-clink o' glasses : I can't tell off the bill o' fare the Gin'.

rals hed inside ; All I know is, thet out o' doors a pair

o' soles wuz fried, An' not a hunderd miles away frum

ware this child wuz posted, A Massachusetts citizen wuz baked an

biled an' roasted ;

doos n't pay,

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They say the quarrel 's settled now ; fer

my part I've some doubt on’t, 'T'll take more fish-skin than folks think

to take the rile clean out on 't ; At any rate, I'm so used up I can't do

no more fightin', The only chance thet's left to me is.

politics or writin'; Now, ez the people 's gut to hev a mil

ingtary man, An' I aint nothin' else jest now, I've

hit upon a plan; The can'idatin' line, you know, 'ould

suit me to a T, An' ef I lose, 't wunt hurt my ears to

lodge another flea ; So I'll set up ez can'idate fer any

kin' o' office, (I mean fer any thet includes good easy

cheers an’ soffies; Fer ez tu runnin' fer a place ware

work's the time o' day, You know thet 's wut I never did,

except the other way ;) Ef it's the Presidential cheer fer wich

I'd better run, Wut two legs anywares about could

keep up with my one? There aint no kin' o' quality in can’i

dates, it's said, So useful ez a wooden leg, except a

wooden head; There's nothin'aint so poppylar --(wy,

it's a parfect sin To think wut Mexico hez paid fer Santy

Anny's pin :) Then I haint gut no princerples, an',

sence I wuz knee-high, I never did hev any gret, ez you can

testify; I'm a decided peace-man, tu, an' go

agin the war, Fer now the holl on 't's gone an' past,

wut is there to go for ? Ef, wile you 're 'lectioneerin'round,

some curus chaps should beg, To know my views o’ state affairs, jest

answer WOODEN LEG!

Ef they aint settisfied with thet, an' kin

o pry an' doubt An' ax fer sutthin' deffynit, jest say

ONE EYE PUT OUT! Thet kin' o'talk I guess you 'll find 'll

answer to a charm, An' wen you ’re druv tu nigh the wall,

hol' up my missin' arm ; Ef they should nose round fer a pledge,

put on a vartoous look An' tell 'em thet 's percisely wut I

never gin nor - took ! Then you can call me “Timbertoes,"

- thet 's wut the people likes ; Sutthin' combinin' morril truth with

phrases sech ez strikes ; Some say the people's fond o' this, or

thet, or wut you please, I tell ye wut the people want is jest cor

rect idees; Old Timbertoes,” you see, 's a creed

it's safe to be quite bold on, There's nothin' in 't the other side can

any ways git hold on; It's a good tangible idee, a sutthin' to

embody Thet valooable class o' men who look

thru brandy-toddy; It gives a Party Platform, tu, jest level

with the mind Of all right-thinkin', honest folks thet

mean to go it blind ; Then there air other good hooraws to

dror on ez you need 'em, Sech ez the ONE-EYED SLARTERER, the

BLOODY BIR DOFREDUM ; Them's wut takes hold o' folks thet

think, ez well ez o' the masses, An' makes you sartin o' the aid o' good

men of all classes.

There's one thing I'm in doubt about ;

in order to be Presidunt, It's absolutely ne’ssary to be a South

ern residunt ; The Constitution settles thet, an' also

thet a feller Must own a nigger o' some sort, jet

black, or brown, or yeller. Now I haint no objections agin par

ticklar climes, Nor agin ownin' anythin' (except the

truth sometimes),

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