property. Now if Mr. B. will, with the Atheist, contend that these are all the mere result of chance or aacident, then I have nothing to say; but if he believes with me, that these things all happen by the special appointment of Providence, it then follows, that it is not God's will that all should be placed in situations equally favorable for the acquisition of wealth.

I have thus examined a few of the leading principles by which Mr. B. endeavors to support his scheme; and I trust that I have shewn that these are false. Let us now inquire how that scheme would operate, and whether it recommends itself to us by its usefulness and expediency.

I shall not stop to consider the insuperable difficulties which this plan would encounter from the want of a general census of all mankind: and a general valuation of their property, so as to ascertain the precise quota to which each one would be entitled. With Mr. B., I will pass by this and many other difficulties unnoticed, and consider it as intended for a single State, say Massachusetts, and then see how it works.

I have no data from which I can ascertain the aggregate value of the property of that state. I am told, however, that it has been estimated at about three hundred dollars a head, of its population, and for argument's sake, I will assume that estimate to be correct. If, however, the committee of distribution under Mr. Brownson's scheme should assume this sum, or the one-half of it, as the amount to be paid to every one to set up with in life, they would find themselves most wofully deceived. In what does the property of the State consist? It is composed of lands, houses, cattle, machinery, ships, merchandise, furniture, stocks and cash. But most of these will at once be swept away by this new order of things, Stocks are specially proscribed. Manufacturing, commerce, and navigation, all depend on the system of capital and wages, and must fall with it. I have shown in my former essay, that the houses would soon be suffered to go to decay, and thus the wealth of the State will be reduced to the land, a few cattle, some household furniture, and the money in circulation, If we now apply to these the process indicated by Mr. B., we shall find, that the outfit amounts to about six acres of land; about five dollars in money; perhaps a cow, and a few trifling articles of furniture. Suppose now, any one to have received his outfit; what is he to do with it? That his five dollars are not enough to set him agoing on his farm, and to supply him with food till harvest, is self-evident; and the usual that of hiring their labor for wages, is resource of the poor, cut off by the new order of things. What then can the poor

man do? I see nothing which he can do, but to sell his outfit for what it will bring, and to live on it as long as it will last; and when this too is gone, there remains nothing for him to do but to beg, to steal or to starve.

As to the scheme of having all the children of the community instructed and educated at the public expense, that is evidently impracticable, if for no other reason, on account of a want of funds. What possible revenue could government draw from such a community of paupers as this system would create? Besides, who is to govern this community, and who in it are to act as teachers? Under the present order of things, those who devote their time to the public are remunerated by receiving an adequate salary for their support; but such remuneration is impracticable under the new order of things. It would be a direct violation of the fundamental principle respecting wages.

Such

I have thus endeavored to analyze Mr. B's plan for the improvement of the condition of the laboring classes. The limits which I had to prescribe to myself have necessarily obliged me to pass by many points unnoticed, and to notice others only in a very cursory manner. Still, I flatter myself that enough has been done to shew that the principles on which that plan is founded, are unsound, and that its realization would be productive of nothing but confusion and misery. In what I have written, I have not been actuated by ill will towards Mr. B. With that writer I have no personal acquaintance. Neither have I written from a foolish fear that society might be induced to adopt his project. madness is impossible. Even Mr. B. admits, in his first essay, that they can only be introduced by physical force. But my motive in thus reviewing these articles, has been to prevent the laboring classes from being misled by them. I would save them from the misfortune of learning to look upon their employers, upon religion, and upon its ministers, as their natural enemies; I would save them from the misery of a discontented spirit; I would save them from the delusion of looking to social reform for the amelioration of their condition, instead of relying on the resources within themselves-industry, economy, sobriety and prudence; and I would save society from having formed within its bosom, associations of discontented, reckless men, who, under the influence of designing demagogues, might become dangerous to its peace.

I am not inclined to deny that our present social condition is in many respects defective. Thus, for instance, in seve

ral departments, female labor does not meet with an adequate remuneration. The cause of this is, that female employment is not sufficiently diversified, and hence the few departments that are open to it, are overstocked, and a ruinous competition is thus produced. But it is vastly easier to point out social evils than to correct them. The man who should discover an adequate remedy for even the one evil which I have mentioned, would deserve the eternal gratitude. of mankind. To devise means to improve the condition of the laboring poor, is a noble, a God-like employment; but it belongs only to men endowed with rare qualities of the head and of the heart, and with uncommon prudence. That reckless empiricism which throws every thing into confusion, is not calculated to do good. Whenever the ordinary operations of society are interrupted, the laboring poor are always the first and worst sufferers, by being deprived of their customary employment and means of support.

H.

TIME'S HOUSE.

THE stones of time's old house with pelting storms,
That on it long have beat from day to day,
Are loose; the door is gone, and smoke deforms
The boards within and walls of plastered clay;
Long have his children strove to keep it whole;
By many a wile he's taught them to make good,
The waste that creeping years have from it stole,
And long its walls the ruin have withstood;
But now within and out the storms assail.
Its beams rock to and fro with every gust;
And fears o'er cherished hopes at last prevail,
Nor longer to its threatening roof they'll trust;
But cease to patch each rent with jealous care,
And learn at last to live beneath the open air.

JONES VERY.

It is plain from the omens of its childhood, that this nation and this hemisphere is destined to gain all the distinction it may ever acquire, not from the indulgence of pleasing dreams of superstition or delusion, but from the sober, clear, and rational voice, and day-visions of truth.

VOL. VIII-57:

KINMONT.

(From the New-York Observer.)

COWPER'S GRAVE.

1.

Ir is a place where poets crowned
May feel the heart's decaying-
It is a place where happy saints
May weep amid their praying-
Yet let the grief and humbleness
As low as silence languish;
Earth surely now may give her calm
To whom she gave her anguish.

2.

Oh poets! from a maniac's tongue
Was poured the deathless singing-
Oh Christians! to your cross of hope
A hopeless hand was clinging-
Oh men! this man in brotherhood,
Your weary paths beguiling,

Groaned inly while he taught you peace,
And died when you were smiling.

3.

And now what time ye all may read
Through dimming tears his story-
How discord on the music fell,

And darkness on the glory

And how, when one by one, sweet sounds
And wand'ring lights departed,

He wore no less a loving face,
Because so broken-hearted;

4.

He shall be strong to sanctify
The poet's high vocation,

And bow the meekest Christian down

In meeker adoration;

Nor ever shall he be in praise

By wise or good forsaken,

Named softly as the household name]

Of one whom God hath taken.

5.

With sadness that is calm, not gloom,
I learn to think upon him;

With meekness that is gratefulness

On God, whose heaven hath won him; Who suffered once the madness cloud Towards his love to blind him,

But gently led the blind along,

Where breath and bird could find him.

6.

And wrought within his shattered brain
Such quick poetic senses,

As hills have language for, and stars
Harmonious influences;

The pulse of dew upon the grass
His own did calmly number;
And silent shadows from the trees
Fell o'er him like a slumber.

7.

The very world, by God's constraint,
From falsehood's chill removing,
Its women and its men became
Beside him true and loving!

And timid hares were drawn from woods,
To share his home-caresses,
Uplooking in his human eyes
With sylvan tendernesses.

8.

But while in darkness he remained,
Unconscious of the guiding,

And things provided came without
The sweet sense of providing,
He testified this solemn truth,
Though frenzy desolated,--
Nor man, nor nature satisfy
Whom only God created.