INDIAN ELOQUENCE.

THERE is a singular raciness- a peculiar pith, in the language of the Indian, which often far surpasses the studied words and labored efforts of the learned. It is the more beautiful from its very simplicity and brevity. Whoever heard the Red man adopt an object for comparison, but it conveyed forcibly and truly the idea he wished to express? Himself the child of nature, he speaks her eloquent language. He has no far fetched and pointless expressions — no poor and insufficient similies; but, without circumlocution, or apparent endeavor to betray the orator, he images forth his eloquence in every sentence. How many authors have dwelt on the thought of old age, not less in sober prose, than lengthened rhyme. We have been told that our memory would become like a broken chain, as the twilight of age gathered around us; that strength and hope would vanish in the evening of life, and that we should be as though we had not been. From many a labored page have we learned this, in melancholy sweetness long drawn out. But an Indian has told us the same in a very few words; and perhaps the most learned author that has ever written, could not improve the sentiment or refine the language. "I am", said the venerable Oneida chief, Skenandoah, to the savages of his tribe assembled in council —“I am an aged hemlock, (a large and beautiful American tree,) the winds of a hundred winters have whistled through the branches, and I am dead at the top!"

The following speech of Logan, a Mingo chief, to the Governor of Virginia, is probably unequalled in our language for pathetic simplicity.

"I appeal to any white man, if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not to eat; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, Logan is the friend of white men. I had

even thought to have lived with you, but for the injuries of one man. Colonel Cresap, the last spring, in cold blood, murdered all the relations of Logan, even my women and children.

"There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge.—I have fought for it.I have killed many.-I have fully glutted my vengeance.-For my country I rejoice at the beams of peace- but do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear.-Logan never felt fear.-He will not turn on his heel to save his life.-Who is there to mourn for Logan? not one!"

Greenbank's Lectures on America.

NIAGARA.

ACCUSTOMED as we are from early life to hear with interest the representations of others concerning great curiosities; there is treasured up in the mind a prepossessed opinion: but, when the sight bursts on our astonished view, a quick recollection recurs, which not unfrequently produces disappointment, in proportion to the dissimilitude of the picture. So, in an eminent degree, is the contrary experienced with respect to the Cataract of Niagara. Whatever idea before existed—whatever the fondness for decorating in vivid colors the terrific splendor, and the amazing wonders of this scene; all is but faintly conceived, all lost in the dazzling glow of astonishment. The power of fancy has fled from her aerial castle, surprise and pleasure have usurped the place of disappointment; while the senses, grasping at the opening expanse presented at one view, are bewildered in extacy; and, with incessant ardor, plunge into an unfathomable ocean of ever-widening sublimity.

Greenbank's Lectures on America,

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 everything that comes from abroad or is grown at hometaxes upon 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 healthon 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 schoolboy 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 licence of an 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.

BROUGHAM.

LIBERTY AND SLAVERY.

DISGUISE thyself as thou wilt, still, slavery, still thou art a bitter draught; and, though thousands in all ages have been made to drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that account. It is thou, Liberty, thrice sweet and gracious goddess, whom all in public or in private worship, whose taste is grateful, and ever will be so, till nature herself shall change—no tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle, or chymic power turn thy sceptre into iron with thee to smile upon him who eats his crust, the swain is happier than the monarch, from whose court thou art exiled. Gracious Heaven! grant me but health, thou great bestower of it, and give me but this fair goddess as my companion; and shower down thy mitres, if it seem good unto thy divine providence, upon those heads which are aching for them.

my

Pursuing these ideas, I sat down close by my table, and leaning head upon my hand, I began to figure to myself the miseries of confinement. I was in a right frame for it, and so I gave full scope to my imagination.

I was going to begin with the millions of my fellow-creatures born to no inheritance but slavery; but finding, however affecting the picture was, that I could not bring it nearer me, and that the multitude of sad groups in it did but distract me—

--

– I took a single captive, and baving first shut him up in a dungeon, I then looked through the twilight of his grated door, to take his picture.

I beheld his body half wasted away with long expectation and confinement, and felt what kind of sickness of the heart it was which arises from hope deferred. Upon looking nearer, I saw him pale and feverish; in thirty years the western breeze had not once fanned his blood-he had seen no sun, no moon, in all that timenor had the voice of friends or kinsman breathed through his lattice. His children

But here my heart began to bleed- and I was forced to go on with another part of the portrait.

He was sitting upon the ground upon a little straw, in the further corner of his dungeon, which was alternately his chair and bed; a little calendar of small sticks were laid at the head, notched all over with the dismal days and nights he had passed there — he had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap. As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down-shook his head, and went on with his work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his legs, as he turned his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle. He gave a deep sigh—I saw the iron enter into his soul-I burst into tears-I could not sustain the picture of confinement which my fancy had drawn.

STERNE.

GOLD.

GOLD is the only power which receives universal homage. It is worshipped in all lands without a single temple, and by all classes without a single hypocrite; and often has it been able to boast of having armies for its priesthood, and hecatombs of human victims for its sacrifices. Where war has slain its thousands, gain has slaughtered its millions; for, while the former operates only with the local and fitful terrors of an earthquake, the destructive influence of the latter is universal and unceasing. Indeed, war itself — what has it often been but the art of gain practised on the largest scale? the covetousness of a nation resolved on gain, impatient of delay, and leading on its subjects to deeds of rapine and blood! Its history is the history of slavery and oppression in all ages. For centuries, Africa, one quarter of the globe — has been set apart to supply the monster with victims-thousands at a meal. And, at this moment, what a populous and gigantic empire can it boast! the mine, with its unnatural drudgery; the manufactory, with its swarms of squalid misery; the plantation, with its imbruted gangs; and the market and the exchange, with their furrowed and care-worn countenances - these are only specimens of its more menial offices and subjects.