receipt of thirty, fifty, or sixty millions a year, by loans or otherwise, into the treasury, and the keeping, management, and disbursement of such vast sums by the Government that operations like these cannot be carried on at all without producing a strong effect, one way or another, on the business and industry of the country, and on the monetary affairs of the community. Production in every department must be affected by them; currency must be affected by them; employment and prices must be affected by them. The occupations in which whole communities shall engage, the channels into which the industry of the whole country shall be turned, may, and must, to a considerable extent, depend on the action and policy of the Government in the particulars here referred to. To Mr. Polk, however, all this seems a matter of the most perfect indifference. Having certain foreign objects of ambition or particular desire to accomplish, requiring a heavy expenditure of money, he must have a tariff adjusted exclusively to the production of the greatest possible amount of revenue, regardless of the certain and inevitable destruction which it must bring, sooner or later, on particular occupations and forms of national industry, and on the general prosperity of the country. A tariff framed with a view to encourage and secure the largest possible amount of importations, for the sake of reaping the largest possible amount of revenue from the duties on them-this, and nothing less, can satisfy the President, though it be certain to the plainest comprehension that the result must be the depression of all kinds of business, the utter ruin of many, and, if the experiment be continued long enough, inevitable national bankruptcy. If the country must have its full supplies of manufactured goods from abroad-its woolens, cottons, iron, and a hundred other things-in order that the Government may tax the imports for revenue, then the production of such articles at home must be given up; and this involves necessarily the ruin of all interests engaged in such production at home. And if these supplies must be received from abroad, and not produced at home at all, or to any considerable extent, the importations must be enormously great, and they must be paid for, at some rate or other, by the current avails of our national industry, or we must soon sink into overwhelming indebtedness. Our resort is necessarily to agriculture; we can go nowhere but to the soil. But those from whom we take our supplies of merchandise have a soil of their own, and no lack of hands to work it; and except in case of a general failure of crops, and the very rare occurrence of a threatened famine, they want, and they will take, very little, almost nothing, comparatively, of the edible productions of our fields. The balance of trade of course runs against us; when we cannot pay in the productions of our industry, in kind, we must pay in gold and silver so long as we have it; and when that fails, as fail it must, since, in the operations of trade, its only legitimate and reliable use is to pay casual balances, then the last stage of national folly, distress and disgrace is reached. But what is all this to the President, so he but gets, in the mean time, his ample returns of revenue? And as little does it seem to concern him, that this is wholy a gratuitous mischief and ruin, which his tariff policy is bringing on the country. It admits of the clearest demonstration, that a tariff, arranged on the principles and general basis of that of 1842, and affording ample and equal protection to all the leading objects of our national industry, is a better tariff for revenue, if we would only give it steadiness and permanence, than Mr. Polk's tariff of 1846. The policy of the President in regard to the tariff is of the same character as that which he has adopted in his plan for the management of the fiscal affairs of the government. So far as the Sub-treasury is not a great government cheat-in John Bull's language, an unmitigated humbugit is a cumbrous machine, giving no facilities or honest advantages whatever to the government, but bearing all the while with the weight of an incubus on the community, and ready at any moment of pecuniary difficulty, to become an instrument of intolerable distress to the whole country. In a country, where the established and universal currency is paper, issued on the basis of gold and silver, and immediately convertible into it, the Government undertakes or professes to repudiate that currency, and to take the gold and silver exclusively for its use as money. to the basis, the foundation, on which the It goes currency of the country-the universal money of current trade and business rests, and saps and drains it away for its own selfish and exclusive use. In our apprehension, there could not well be exhibited in any other form, a more wanton disregard of the wants, the convenience, and the interests of the business community. We believe the time is not distant when the practical deformity and evils of this monstrous system will be seen and felt to a degree which the country will find utterly unendurable; unless, indeed, the Administration shall wholly fail, under the dispensing power of the Executive, to carry it into effect according to the letter and spirit of the enactment under which it exists. VI. But this topic of the Sub-treasury, and that of the tariff, we must now leave, without even an attempt to discuss them on their merits. We have done what we promised-which was to indicate the leading subjects, or at least many of them, which we suppose must occupy the attention of the country, and especially of parties and political men, in the approaching canvass. In the merits of President Polk and his administration, whether he shall be a candidate for re-election or not, are necessarily involved the pretensions of the party that supports him, to have its domination perpetuated. In referring to those merits we may, in conclusion, mention one other comprehensive topic, deserving the fullest consideration at the hands of a community, where public virtue forms the whole foundation on which the institutions of the country rest. Has the administration of Mr. Polk been a virtuous administration? Has not its public policy, and its most prominent acts, been, in the main, destitute of all moral unction? Have they not to a great extent been positively unprincipled, and even profligate? We know there are those, seeming to be of amiable and correct deportment in private life, who hold the commission of the grossest political immoralities a very light matter. Mr. Polk may be of that number; we are not. The virtues of no people, under a republican and elective system, can stand before the infectious corruptions and immoralities of the government. As the government, so will the ople be, in this respect. We are conmined to declare that we see in the con duct of the President, a most melancholy lack of that sincerity, truthfulness, candor and moderation-that devotion to high principle and to strict justice-which ought to characterize the Chief Magistrate of this great Republic. Compare him, in these moral qualities, with the great model, Washington! Mr. Polk came into his office on the basis of two great falsehoods laid down by his party, and with the aid of a great cheat put forth by himself in person. This last was his letter to Mr. Kane on the tariff. The falsehoods were, first, the declaration of his nominating Convention, that " our title to the whole of Oregon was clear and unquestionable;" and the second consisted in calling the proposed measure of annexing Texas to the United States, “Re-annexation ”—as if the State or Republic of Texas had once belonged to our Union, and was only now to be re-united to it; or as if it was only so many square miles of uninhabited territory to which he had once set up a diplomatic pretension, which was now to be added to our national domain. This was a bad beginning, and worse has followed. President has constantly set up pretences instead of facts to explain and justify his proceedings with Mexico; his real designs from the beginning towards that country were those of the Oppressor and the Spoiler. Spoiler. He has dragged the country after him in a bold career of rapacity and conquest. He has treated the army, which has so nobly fought his battles abroad, with the deepest injustice, and broken its spirit by his appointments, his promotions, and his system of favoritism. He has treated his commanding Generals in the field, from a feeling of petty jealousy, with bad faith, deceit, and gross indignity. The use he has made of the patronage of his office has been in many instances corrupting and degrading to the character and dignity of the nation. His disposition. in this respect is shown in the effort he has made, even since he has believed that peace was already made certain, to secure to himself the appointment of officers for ten new regiments to be added to the army, besides the potent voice he would have in the nomination of officers for twenty new regiments more of volunteers. But the theme is too prolific for this article, after the space we have already occupied, and for the present we rest here. D. D. B. "He that can discern the loveliness of things, we call him Poet, Painter, Man of Genius, gifted, loveable."-CARLYLE ON Heroes and Hero Worship. "Wherever the heart speaks, there is always eloquence, interest, and instruction."--SIR E. BRYDGES' Recollections of Foreign Travel. Everything I see in the fields is to me an object, and I can look at the same rivulet, or at an handsome tree, every day of my life, with new pleasure."-CowPER, (in a letter to the Rev. Wm. Unwin.) THE return of Spring, with its "glad | light green," is to most of us a renewal of our youth. The sunshine has a warm, golden look, and appears to cling to the brown earth, trees, and fences. It is happiness to feel its genial influence. We contrast it with "The winter's drenching rain And driving snow," (BEATTIE,) and look forward to the deep and glowing beauty, "the lusty bravery of summer, and to autumn, with its russet stubble fields, transparent air and water, and gay shifting clouds. Nature is ever young, and it is no wonder that the "way of life" of her ardent and sincere admirers never falls "into the sere and yellow leaf." Recollections of our own youth are mingled with walks by the brook side, rambles through meadows and woods; with cool gushing springs, at which we have often knelt and slaked our thirst, and made cups of walnut leaves fastened together by their stems, which proved to be convenient and elegant. The harvest field also has afforded us many hours of heart-felt delight. Raking hay is a great sharpener of the appetite, and what meal can be more delicious than the one eaten under farm house. Huge bowls of rich samp and milk are rapidly consumed and as rapidly replenished; and how soothing to weary limbs, to repose upon the fresh smelling bed in the large open garret, where we often heard the big drops pattering on the roof, or pouring down in torrents, "O Lord! this is an huge rain! This were a weather for to sleepin in." CHAUCER. The quiet of the country undoubtedly deepens the religion of a thoughtful mind, for the current of life there glides along more calmly than in the city, where but little time is left for reflection. A stillness broods over the heart, and over the landscape, on a Sabbath morning. The Sunday last past made a most agreeable impression on us. Rain had fallen during the previous night, but the sun rose bright and clear on Sunday, and every tree, bush and blade of grass glittered in its rays. "A fresher green the smelling leaves displayed." PARNELL. The air was musical with birds; cows were cropping the short, rich herbage beneath some magnificent elm trees on the common opposite the window where we were sit "Wide branching trees with dark green leaf ting; and over all was the "blue rejoicing rich clad ?" LAMB. sky." Soon, the church bell rang its peals, summoning the poor and the rich to God's house, some to return thanks for past blessings, and others to implore for strength to bear up under sorrows and afflictions, and fervently to exclaim, "Thy will be done." Oh, it was a cheering and lovely sight to view the old and the young, fathers, mothers, the young maiden with dancing ring Stops, and looks back, and stops and looks on man, lets, bright eyes, clear complexion, and | Less fearful on this day, the limping hare Her deadliest foe. The toil-worn horse, set Miller's "A Day in the Woods," dedicated to the Countess of Blessington, is a beautifully printed book, and contains a series of tales and poems, told by a number of young persons wandering about in the woods, with ample interchange of sweet discourse." It smells of green leaves and flowery dells, and you hear the murmuring of brooks. It is full of eloquence and picturesque beauty. He minutely and fondly dwells on old customs and habits, and is so thoroughly acquainted with all the subjects that he writes upon, that it stamps the work with a peculiar value. None but a true poet could have written it. My chasten'd heart, and all its throbbings still'd" His candid style like a clear stream does slide. To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness." We cannot refrain from copying some lines from Grahame's Sabbath, which form a series of perfect and felicitous pictures:--- "How still the morning of the hallow'd day! song. The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreath And sweeter from the sky the gladsome lark Murmurs more gently down the deep-worn glen. smoke O'ermounts the mist, is heard, at intervals, "With dove-like wings, Peace o'er yon village The dizzying mill-wheel rests; the anvil's din And his bright fancy all the way COWLEY. We will make a few selections, that the reader may judge for himself of the exquisite poetical material of Miller's mind. "See how beautiful the sunshine sleeps o the opening flowers, and those that blow upe the shady banks stand amid light of their ow creating. Here comes a heavy bee; he be longs to no hive, but is a free denizen of the hills and woods, and stores his sweets in the bole of some mighty tree, where he can s curely feed upon his treasures in the winter safe from the howling tempest. How gaylys flies along to the deep low music of his on wings! Now he has plunged into that blo bell's cup, head foremost, like a diver why dashes at once to the river depths; so he t plunged through the loosened lustre of t petals, the clear cool crystal of the folded dewdrop, and is now revelling at the fountain the flower's sweetness. Happy bee! the ran of the sunny hills is all thine own; thou ca sail down the fragrant valleys, or carry merry minstrelsy through the leafy for bowers, then dash away in sunshine and se to the breezy banks of the far-off murmur river." t "Observe that tall young woman, whe pale face is saddened by sorrow. Solitary Beauties of the Country, with twentysix illustratious, published by Van Voorst, London, 1837, is a beautifully printed vol silent she has ventured again into the green fields, the first time this for many weeks. Her eye has taken a long sweep across the blue heavens. Fain would she glance through the fleecy silver that skirts the loosened clouds,-ume, with fine descriptions of rural custhrough the golden portals of Paradise would she peer, along the ranks of winged Cherubim and Seraphim, harp-sounding, and the trumpetblowing archangels, and there look for one whom she yet loves. Now are her eyes riveted upon a little knot of wild violets. Disturb not her contemplation! a vision is rising before her. Mark those compressed lips: she sees her once beautiful boy, as he lay last spring laughing and tumbling in the sunshine, and running to and fro delirious with joy amongst the flowers! Oh! her eyes are filling with tears, for she now sees two small blanched hands resting upon the ghastly linen; so pale 66 upon Let us turn to the busy haunts of menthe dark alleys of the metropolis. Mark the open casement opposite. There stands a broken jug which contains a few flowers; a care-stricken woman is gazing fixedly upon them. Saw ye not that faint smile, that small opening of light upon a sky which is nearly all night? Those few flowers, almost withered as they are through long keeping, brought back to her mind the remembrance of by-gone years. She was wafted back on the wings of memory to the cottage of her fathers, and again saw the woodbine-trellised window, through which she had so often watched the lark springing from the daisy's side,' by which it had all night slept, and scattering music on the earth as it carolled high up the vaulted heavens; and the neat garden where her beehives stood, ere the humming denizens sallied forth to whisper love into the bosoms of the heath-bells. The cuckoo's song also smote her ear while she gazed upon them, and she imagined cowslips nodded a fresh welcome as if they beckoned her home again. The gray linnet's note, the bird that built yearly in the furze bushes by the sedgy brook and sang so sweetly to the murmuring water, which answered again with its liquid voice, as it welled away through the cresses and water lilies, and beneath the tall rushes that she loved to gather. But she has turned away to soothe her child. Oh, she is a flower worshipper." toms, objects, and rich with Mr. Miller's peculiar eloquence. In his vocation of basket making he has journeyed over the greater part of England, and whether wearied or otherwise, nature in all its various aspects has been viewed by him with a loving heart and fond eye. Every field had its peculiar charm, every hedge was filled with perfume, or associated with boyish and happy days. He has stopped to rest at the wayside inn, and there drank his bit of bread and cheese with a grateful mug of sparkling, healthy ale, and ate his heart, every drop and morsel of it sweetened by toil and his long walk. There he has conversed with farmers and the various classes that gather together at a roadside inn. Many years of careful observation, and his innate poetical feeling, have enabled him to write books full of interest and truth, and such as we verily believe his countrymen will not willingly let die. His is the rare faculty of painting to the eye, old woods, flowery valleys, and flowing rivers, with such minute beauty and force, that it gives a man an intense desire to leave the dust, turmoil, and heat of city life, "humming with a restless crowd," and to plunge into the cool, shady, deep and silent woods. We think of refreshing slumbers, where no noise of vehicles rattling over stony pavements intrudes, but the hum of insects and the fragrant air enter at the window. The dew has fallen, and we have the music of the leaves as the winds on their onward course mildly whisper to them. We are awakened by the song of birds; we behold flowers and grass sparkling with diamond drops and glittering as if with joy, and |