Immortal females of America! I will tell it to the daughters of France, and they only are fit to applaud you! You have attained the utmost of what your sex is capable; you possess the beauty, the simplicity, the manners, at once natural and pure; the primitive graces of the golden age. It was among you that liberty was first to have its origin. But the empire of freedm which is extended to France, is about to carry your manners along with it, and produce a revolution in morals as well as in politics.

Already our female citizens, (for they have lately become such) are not any longer occupied with those frivolous ornaments, and vain pleasures, which were nothing more than the amusements of slavery; they have awakened the love of liberty in the bosoms of fathers, of brothers, and of husbands; they have encouraged them, to make the most generous sacrifices their delicate hands have removed the earth, dragged it along, and helped to elevate the immense amphitheatre of the grand confederation. It is no longer the love of voluptuous softness that attracts their regard; it is the sacred fire of patriotism..

The laws which are to reform education, and with ît the national manners, are already prepared; they will advance, they will fortify the cause of liberty by means of their happy influence, and become the second saviours of their country!

Franklin did not omit any of the means of being useful to men, or serviceable to society. He spoke to all conditions, to both sexes, to every age. This amiable moralist descended, in his writings, to the most artless details; to the most ingenuous familiarities; to the first ideas of a rural, a commercial, and a civil life; to the dialogues of old men and children; full at once of all the verdure and all the maturity of wisdom. In short, the prudent lessons arising from the exposition of those obscure happy, easy virtues, which form so many links in the chain of a good man's life, derived immense weight from that reputation for genius which he had acquired

acquired, by being one of the first naturalists and greatest philosophers in the universe.

At one and the same time, he governed nature in the heavens and in the hearts of men. Amidst the tempests of the atmosphere, he directed the thunder; amidst the storms of society, he directed the passions. Think, gentlemen, with what attentive docility, with what religious respect, one must hear the voice of a simple man, who preached up human happiness, when it was recollected that it was the powerful voice of the same man who regulated the lightning.

He electrified the consciences, in order to extract the destructive fire of vice, exactly in the same manner as he electrified the heavens, in order peaceably to invite from them the terrible fire of the elements.

Venerable old man! august philosopher! legislator of the felicity of thy country, prophet of the fraternity of the human race, what ecstatic happiness embellished the end of thy career! From thy fortunate asylum, and in the midst of thy brothers who enjoyed in tranquillity the fruit of thy virtues, and the success of thy genius, thou hast sung songs of deliverance. The last looks, which thou didst cast around thee, beheld America happy; France, on the other side of the ocean, free, and a sure indication of the approaching freedom and happiness of the world.

The United States, looking upon themselves as thy children, have bewailed the death of the father of their republic. France, thy family by adoption, has honored thee as the founder of her laws; and the human race has revered thee as the universal patriarch who has formed the alliance of nature with society. Thy remembrance belongs to all ages; thy memory to all nations; thy glory to eternity!

EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE TO ADDISON'S CATO.

see mankind the same in every age:

Y Heroic fortitude, tyrannic rage,

Boundless ambition, patriotic truth,
And hoary treason, and untainted youth,
Have deeply mark'd all periods and all climes,
The noblest virtues, and the blackest crimes.
Did Cesar, drunk with power, and madly brave,
Insatiate burn, his country to enslave?

Did he for this, lead forth a servile host

To spill the choicest blood that Rome could boast?
The British Cesar too hath done the same,
And doom'd this age to everlasting fame.
Columbia's crimson'd fields still smoke with gore;
Her bravest heroes cover all the shore:
The flower of Britain, in full martial bloom,
In this sad war, sent headlong to the tomb.
Did Rome's brave senate nobly dare t' oppose
The mighty torrent, stand confess'd their foes,
And boldly arm the virtuous few, and dare
The desp❜rate horrors of unequal war?
Our senate too the same bold deed have done,
And for a Cato, arm'd a Washington;
A chief, in all the ways of battle skill'd,
Great in the council, mighty in the field.
His martial arm, and steady soul alone,
Have made thy legions shake, thy navy an,
And thy proud empire totter to the throne.
O, what thou art, mayst thou forever be,
And death the lot of any chief but thee!
We've had our Decius too; and Howe could say
Health, pardon, peace, George sends America;
Yet brought destruction for the olive wreath;
For health, contagion, and for pardon, death.
Rise! then, my countrymen, for fight prepare;
Gird on your swords, and fearless rush to war:

'Tis your bold task the gen'rous strife to try;
For your griev'd country nobly dare to die!
No pent up Utica contracts your powers;
For the whole boundless continent is our's!

SELF-CONCEIT.

AN ADDRESS, SPOKEN BY A VERY small Boy.

WH

HEN boys are exhibiting in public, the politeness or curiosity of the hearers frequently induces them to inquire the names of the performers. To save the trouble of answers, so far as relates to myself, my name is Charles Chatterbox. I was born in this town; and have grown to my present enormous stature, without any artificial help. It is true, I eat, drink, and sleep, and take as much care of my noble self, as any young man about; but I am a monstrous great student. There is no telling the half of what I have read.

Why, what do you think of the Arabian Tales! Truth! every word truth! There's the story of the lamp, and of Rook's eggs as big as a meeting-house. And there is the history of Sindbad the Sailor. I have read every word of them. And I have read Tom Thumb's folio through, Winter Evening Tales, and Seven Champions, and Parismus, and Parismenus, and Valentine and Orson, and Mother Bunch, and Seven Wise Masters, and a curious book, entitled, Think well on't.

Then there is another wonderful book, containing fifty reasons why an old bachelor was not married. The first was, that nobody would have him; and the second was, he declared to every body, that he would not marry; and so it went on stronger and stronger. Then, at the close of the book, it gives an account of his marvellous death and burial. And in the appendix, it tells about his being ground over, and coming

out

out as young, and as fresh, and as fair as ever. every few pages, is a picture of him to the life.

Then,

I have also read Robinson Crusoe, and Reynard the fox, and Moll Flanders; and I have read twelve delightful novels, and Irish Rogues, and Life of Saint Patrick, and Philip Quarle, and Conjuror Crop, and Esop's Fables, and Laugh and be fat, and Toby Lumpkin's Elegy on the Birth of a Child, and a Comedy on the Death of his Brother, and an Acrostic, occasioned by a mortal sickness of his dear wife, of which she recovered. This famous author wrote a treatise on the Rise and Progress of Vegetation; and a whole Body of Divinity he comprised in four lines.

I have read all the works of Pero Gilpin, whose memory was so extraordinary, that he never forgot the hours of eating and sleeping. This Pero was a rare lad. Why, he could stand on his head, as if it were a real pedestal; his feet he used for drumsticks. He was trumpeter to the foot guards in Queen Betty's time; and if he had not blown his breath away, might have lived to this day.

Then, I have read the history of a man who married for money, and of a woman that would wear her husband's small-clothes in spite of him; and I have read four books of riddles and rebusses; and all that is not half a quarter.

"A

Now, what signifies reading so much if one can't te of it? In thinking over these things, I am sometimes so lost in company, that I don't hear any thing that is said, till some one pops out that witty saying, penny for your thoughts." Then I say, to be sure, was thinking of a book I had been reading. Once, in this mood, I came very near swallowing my cup and saucer; and er time, was upon the very point of taking down a punch-bowl, that held a gallon. Now, if I could fairly have gotten them down, they would not have hurt me a jot; for my mind is capacious enough for a china shop. There is no choaking a man of my reading. Why, if my mind can contain Genii and

Giants,