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be like the mighty ocean in a calm, rolling a resistless tide, sowing everywhere the seeds of freedom, as that ocean furnishes with water the clouds which spread over the whole heaven, to be distilled in the gentle dew and refreshing rain all over the earth.

So far we have advanced under the teachings of Washington with great success. It was one of the maxims of that wise man, Lord Bacon, "state super -antiquas vias et videte, quænam sit via bona et recta et ambulate in ea." Stand upon your ancient ways, and look around, and see if there be any better way, and if there be, walk in it. That is the true doctrine. Hold on to the old faith under which you and your fathers have prospered, until you are certain of embracing a better.-If you are certain of a better, then the path of duty is plain.

But in determining that question we should take counsel of our judgment, rather than of our sympathies.

We come now to the closing part of this memorable address, in which he says. that he is unconscious of intentional error during his administration, but sensible of his own defects, he beseeches the Almighty to avert the consequences of any such errors-and he adds

"I shall also carry with me the hope that my country will never cease to view them with indulgence, and that after forty-five years of my life dedicated to its service, with an upright zeal, the faults of incompetent abilities, will be consigned to oblivion, as myself must soon be to the mansions of rest..-Relying on its kindness in this as in other things, and actuated by that fervent love towards it, which is so natural to a man, who views in it the native soil of himself and his progenitors for several generations."

Who has not been affected, as he has read the narrative which records the closing scenes in the eventful life of the patriarch Jacob.—

He had given his farewell address to his children.-His days were numbered. "And he charged them and said unto them, I am to be gathered unto my people; bury me with my fathers in the cave that is in the field of Ephron, the Hittite," for says he "there they buried Abraham and Sarah his wife; there they buried Isaac and Rebekah his wife, and there I buried Leah," and turning away from the costly mausoleums, the painted tombs, the sculptured monuments, the last resting places of the nobles, and monarchs, of Egypt, the thoughts of the dying patriarch went back to the home of his youth, to the spot where

the ashes of his fathers reposed, to the simple cave of Machpelah in the land of Canaan.

A fervent love of country is natural to a man, who views in it his native soil, and the country of his birth, if it is worthy of his love, must always have the strongest hold upon the affections of the citizen. This love of home, and of country is natural to the human heart. It dwells in the bosom of the savage, and of the civilized man. The wild Indian feels it when he retreats towards the setting sun, because civilization has hewn down his forests, and driven its ploughshare over the graves of his ancestors.

'May he love his country as I love mine" was the blessing invoked by KosSUTH, on a child presented to him as bearing his name in western Pennsylvania. The great Hungarian leader struck the finest chord of sympathy, when he spoke of his poor down trodden fatherland. We too have a fatherland, glorious and free, and blessed be the memories of those, who have given it to us as an inheritance.

And now will you follow the advice of him, the anniversary of whose birth we this day celebrate, of him who was first in peace, first in war, and first in the hearts of his countrymen? Will you seek to promote the spread of religion and good morals-will you advance the cause of education among the youth, and of political education among all the people? Will you cherish and love yourselves, and teach your children to cherish and love the Institutions of our country, and our native land? then you will discharge your duties as good citizens; then posterity shall bless your memories, and your children and your children's children, shall keep this ANNIVERSARY.

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VOL. IV.

THE REPUBLIC.

NEW-YORK, AUGUST, 1852.

No. 2.

THE RABBIT ON THE

CHAPTER I.

BY AN AMERICAN LADY.

[WITH AN ENGRAVING.]

THADDEUS M'CALLORAN, an easy, indolent, and kind-hearted native of the "ould counthry," was drawn unluckily into the tide of emigration which early set towards America. He had a thatched cottage in Ireland to shelter his wife and his brood of little M'Callorans, and his aged father and mother; he had a "praty patch" before the cottage, and a wonderfully large and productive one it was; and he was so strong, and so goodnatured, he never lacked a plenty of employment, vastly more than he was willing to engage, from the neighboring land-owners. A very happy family were the M'Callorans, before the emigration fever seized the husband and father. Thaddeus was willing to labor moderately from morning till night, to fill the hungry mouths which so frequently, and ever to his pride and joy, numerically increased around his board. Bridget minded the house and the children; and being moreover as "smart" as her husband was indolent, and skilful in the spinning of linen, every moment she could spare from other cares found her fingers busy in drawing out warp or woof, for some of those exquisite fabrics which, while they minister to the luxury of the affluent, pay but a meagre and beggarly percentage into the hand of the producer.

Thaddeus and Bridget were poor, some

VOL. IV.

WALL.

times very poor; but their parents had been poor before them. Luxury was an abstraction they had no idea of. They were accustomed sometimes to a plenty, and anon to a scarcity of coarse, plain food, and they lived on from day to day, borrowing no superfluous anxieties or alarms from the stores of ill-success or misfortune that might peradventure be garnered up in the future; till the emigration mania spread into the neighborhood, and finally seized Thaddeus with its most violent and defiant symptoms.

Bridget M'Calloran expostulated and fretted about being torn from her home, and exposed, with her "innocent childher and the ould folk," to all the terrors, and horrors, and dangers of a journey over the big waters; she knew "every soul of them would be drowned in the depths of the sea, and the rest would starve;" she hated "Ameriky" and all the world, but "blessed ould Ireland," and she repeatedly declared her resolution to remain behind "for better, for worser, if Thaddy persisted in so wild and dangersome a schame." The old father and mother wept bitter tears at the thought that the sods of their native soil could not cover their mouldering dust; but Thaddy was immovable. America, in his eyes, had become El Dorado, and thitherward he was determined to set his own face and the unwilling

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