of your settlements, inviting you to enterprise, and pointing the way to wealth.

"Sir, you are destined, at some time or other, to become a great agricultural and commercial people; the only question is, whether you choose to reach this point by slow gradations, and at some distant period- lingering on through a long and sickly minority—subjected, meanwhile, to the machinations, insults, and oppressions of enemies, foreign and domestic, without sufficient strength to resist and chastise them - or whether you choose rather to rush at once, as it were, to the full enjoyment of those high destinies, and be able to cope, singlehanded, with the proudest oppressors of the old world. If you prefer the latter course, as I trust you do, encourage immigration - encourage the hus

bandmen, the mechanics, the merchants of the old world, to come and settle in this land of promise make it the home of the skillful, the industrious, the fortunate, the happy, as well as the asylum of the distressed- fill up the measure of your population as speedily as you can, by the means which heaven has placed in your hands—and I venture to prophesy there are those now living who will see this favored land among the most powerful on earth

able, sir, to take care of herself, without resorting to that policy which is always so dangerous, though sometimes unavoidable, of calling in foreign aid. Yes, sir, they will. see her great in arts and in arms-her golden harvests waving over fields of immeasurable extent - her commerce penetrating the most distant seas, and her cannon silencing the vain boasts of those who now proudly affect to rule

the waves. But, sir, you must have men -you can not get along without them—those heavy forests of valuable timber, under which your lands are groaning, must be cleared away — those vast riches which cover the face of your soil, as well as those which lie hid in its bosom, are to be developed and gathered only by the skill and enterprise of men your timber, sir, must be worked up into ships to transport the productions of the soil from which it has been cleared-then you must have commercial men and commercial capital to take off your productions, and find the best markets for them abroad — your great want, sir, is the want of men; ! and these you must have, and will have speedily, if you are wise.

"Do you ask how you are to get them? Open your doors, sir, and they will come in—the population of the old world is full to overflowing — that population is ground, too, by the oppressions of the governments under which they live. Sir, they are already standing on tiptoe upon their native shores, and looking to your coasts with a wistful and longing eye-they see here a land blessed with natural and political advantages which are not equaled by those of any other country upon earth—a land on which Providence hath emptied the horn of abundance- a land over which peace hath now stretched forth her white wings, and where content and plenty lie down at every door! Sir, they see something more attractive than all this-they see a land in which liberty hath taken up her abode—that liberty, whom they had considered as a fabled goddess existing only in the fancies of poets-they see her here

a real divinity-her altars rising on every hand throughout these happy states-her glories chanted by three millions of tongues-and the whole region smiling under her blessed influence. Sir, let but this, our celestial goddess, Liberty, stretch forth her fair hand toward the people of the old world — tell them to come; and bid them welcome — and you will see them pouring in from the north, from the south, from the east, and from the west-your wildernesses will be cleared and settled-your deserts will smile - your ranks will be filled, and you will soon be in a condition to defy the powers of any adversary.

"But gentlemen object to any accession from Great Britain, and particularly to the return of the British refugees. Sir, I feel no objection to the return of those deluded people-they have, to be sure, mistaken their own interests most woefully, and most woefully have they suffered the punishment due to their offenses. But the relations which we bear to them and to their native country are now changed, their king hath acknowledged our independence the quarrel is over-peace hath returned and found us a free people. Let us have the magnanimity, sir, to lay aside our antipathies and prejudices, and consider the subject in a political light. Those are an enterprising, moneyed people, they will be serviceable in taking off the surplus produce of our lands, and supplying us with necessaries, during the infant state of our manufactures. Even if they be inimical to us in point of feeling and principle, I can see no objection in a political view, in making them tributary to our advantage. And as I have

no prejudices to prevent my making this use of them, so, sir, I have no fear of any mischief that they can do us. Afraid of them! What, sir, shall we, who have laid the proud British lion at our feet, now be afraid of his whelps ?"

an tip' a thy, dislike.

mach' i na' tions, artful tricks.
mag' na nim'i ty, large-mindedness;
unselfishness.

mi nori ty, the state of being a minor.
ob' vi ous, immediately evident.

sa lu' bri ty, healthfulness.
trib'u ta ry, contributing.

SPRING.

DONALD G. MITCHELL.

(From "Dream Life.")

The old chroniclers made the year begin in the season of frosts; and they have launched us upon the current of the months from the snowy banks of January. I love better to count time from Spring to Spring; it seems to me far more cheerful to reckon the year by blossoms than by blight.

Bernardin de St. Pierre, in his sweet story of Virginia, makes the bloom of the cocoa-tree, or the growth of the banana, a yearly and a loved monitor of the passage of her life. How cold and cheerless in the comparison would be the icy chronology of the North; - So many years have I seen the lakes locked, and the foliage die!

The budding and blooming of Spring seem to belong properly to the opening of the months. It is the season of the quickest expansion, of the warmest blood, of the readiest growth; it is the

boy-age of the year. The birds sing in chorus in the Spring-just as children prattle; the brooks run full-like the overflow of young hearts; the showers drop easily-as young tears flow; and the whole sky is as capricious as the mind of a boy.

Between tears and smiles, the year, like the child, struggles into the warmth of life. The Old Yearsay what the chronologists will - lingers upon the very lap of Spring, and is only fairly gone when the blossoms of April have strown their pall of glory upon his tomb, and the bluebirds have chanted his requiem.

It always seems to me as if an access of life came with the melting of the winter's snows, and as if every rootlet of grass, that lifted its first green blade from the matted débris of the old year's decay, bore my spirit upon it, nearer to the largess of Heaven.

I love to trace the break of Spring step by step: I love even those long rain-storms, that sap the icy fortresses of the lingering winter,- that melt the snows upon the hills, and swell the mountainbrooks,― that make the pools heave up their glassy cerements of ice, and hurry down the crashing fragments into the wastes of ocean.

I love the gentle thaws that you can trace, day by day, by the stained snow-banks, shrinking from the grass; and by the quiet drip of the cottage eaves. I love to search out the sunny slopes under some northern shelter, where the reflected sun does double duty to the earth, and where the frail Hepatica, or the faint blush of the Arbutus, in the midst of the bleak March atmosphere, will touch your