M-your Meat, A-your Apparel, L-your Liberty, T-your Trust.

The Literal is, according to the letters, M-Much, A-Ale, L-Little, T-Trust.

The Theological is, according to the effects it works: in some, M-Murder; in others, A-Adultery; in all, L-Looseness of Life; and in many, T-Treachery.

I shall conclude the subject,-First, by way of exhortation. M-my Masters, A-All of you, L-Listen, T-to my Text. Second, by way of caution. M-my Masters, A—All of you, L-Look for, T-the Truth. Third, by way of communicating the truth, which is this:

A Drunkard is the annoyance of modesty; the spoil of civility; the destruction of reason; the robber's agent; the alehouse benefactor; his wife's sorrow; his children's trouble; his own shame; his neighbor's scoff; a walking swill-tub; the picture of a beast; the monster of a man!

[Dodd.

HUMOROUS ACCOUNT OF ENGLISH TAXES.

PERMIT me to inform you, my friends, what are the inevitable consequences of being too fond of glory ;— TAXES upon every article which enters into the mouth, or covers the back, or is placed under the foot,—taxes upon every thing which it is pleasant to see, hear, feel, smell, or taste,-taxes upon warmth, light, and locomotion,-taxes on every thing on earth, and the waters under the earth, on every thing that comes from abroad, or is grown at home,-taxes on the raw material,-taxes on every fresh value that is added to it by the industry of man,-taxes on the sauce which pampers man's appetite, and the drug that restores him to

health,―on the ermine which decorates the judge, and the rope which hangs the criminal,-on the poor man's salt, and the rich man's spice,-on the brass nails of the coffin, and the ribbons of the bride,-at bed or board, couchant or levant, we must pay.

The school-boy whips his taxed top,-the beardless youth manages his taxed horse, with a taxed bridle on a taxed road;—and the dying Englishman, pouring his medicine, which has paid seven per cent., into a spoon that has paid fifteen per cent.,-flings himself back upon his chintz-bed, which has paid twenty-two per cent.,-makes his will on an eight-pound stamp, and expires in the arms of an apothecary, who has paid a license of a hundred pounds for the privilege of putting him to death. His whole property is then immediately taxed from two to ten per cent. Besides the probate, large fees are demanded for burying him in the chancel; his virtues are handed down to posterity on taxed marble; and he is then gathered to his fathers,―—to be taxed no more!

[Sydney Smith,

OUR REPUBLIC.

The

GREECE, lovely Greece, "the land of scholars and the nurse of arms," where sister republics in fair procession chanted the praises of liberty and the gods,—where and what is she? For two thousand years the oppressor has bound her to the earth. Her arts are no more. last sad relics of her temples are but the barracks of a ruthless soldiery; the fragments of her columns and her palaces are in the dust, yet beautiful in ruin. She fell not when the mighty were upon her. Her sons were united at Thermopyla and Marathon; and the tide of her tri

umph rolled back upon the Hellespont. She was conquered by her own factions. She fell by the hands of her own people. The man of Macedonia did not the work of destruction. It was already done, by her own corruptions, banishments, and dissensions.

Rome, republican Rome, whose eagles glanced in the rising and setting sun,-where and what is she? The Eternal City yet remains, proud even in her desolation, noble in her decline, venerable in the majesty of religion, and calm as in the composure of death. The malaria has but traveled in the paths worn by her destroyers. More than eighteen centuries have mourned over the loss of her empire. A mortal disease was upon her vitals before Cæsar had crossed the Rubicon. The Goths, and Vandals, and Huns, the swarms of the North, completed only what was already begun at home. Romans betrayed Rome. The legions were bought and sold, but the people offered the tribute-money. When we reflect on what has been, and is, how is it possible not to feel a profound sense of the responsibleness of this Republic to all future ages! What vast motives press upon us for lofty efforts! What brilliant prospects invite our enthusiasm! What solemn warnings at once demand our vigilance, and moderate our confidence! [Judge Story.

SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS IN FAVOR OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.

SINK of swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand and my heart to this vote. It is true, indeed, that in the beginning, we aimed not at independence. But there's a Divinity which shapes our ends. The injustice of England has driven us to arms; and, blinded

to her own interest, for our good, she has obstinately persisted, till independence is now within our grasp. We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours.

Why, then, should we defer the Declaration? Is any man so weak as now to hope for a reconciliation with England, which shall leave either safety to the country and its liberties, or safety to its own life, and his own honor? Are not you sir, who sit in that chair,—is not he, our venerable colleague, near you,—are you not both already the proscribed and predestined objects of punishment and vengeance? Cut off from all hope of royal clemency, what are you, what can you be, while the power of England remains, but outlaws?

If we postpone independence, do we mean to carry on, or to give up, the war? Do we mean to submit to the measures of Parliament, Boston port-bill and all? Do we mean to submit, and consent that we ourselves shall be ground to powder, and our country and its rights trodden down in the dust? I know we do not mean to submit. We never shall submit.

Do we intend to violate that most solemn obligation ever entered into by men, that plighting, before God, of our sacred honor to Washington, when putting him forth to incur the dangers of war, as well as the political hazards of the times, we promised to adhere to him in every extremity, with our fortunes and our lives? I know there is not a man here, who would not rather see a general conflagration sweep over the land, or an earthquake sink it, than one jot or tittle of that plighted faith fall to the ground.

For myself, having, twelve months ago, in this place, moved you, that GEORGE WASHINGTON be appointed commander of the forces, raised, or to be raised, for the

defense of American liberty, may my right hand forget her cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate or waver in the support I give him..

THE SAME CONTINUED.

THE war, then, must go on. We must fight it through. And, if the war must go on, why put off longer the Declaration of Independence? That meas. ure will strengthen us: it will give us character abroad.

If we fail, it can be no worse for us. But we shall not fail. The cause will raise up armies; the cause will create navies. The people, the people, if we are true to them, will carry us, and will carry themselves, gloriously through this struggle. I care not how fickle other people have been found. I know the people of these colonies, and I know that resistance to British aggression is deep and settled in their hearts, and can not be eradicated. Every colony, indeed, has expressed its willingness to follow, if we but take the lead. Sir, the Declaration will inspire the people with increased courage. Instead of a long and bloody war for restoration of privileges, for redress of grievances, for chartered immunities, held under a British king, set before them the glorious object of entire independence, and it will breathe into them anew the breath of life.

Read this Declaration at the head of the army; every sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow uttered, to maintain it, or to perish on the bed of honor. Publish it from the pulpit; religion will approve it, and the love of religious liberty will cling round it, resolved to stand with it, or fall with it. Send it to the public halls; proclaim it there; let them hear