OPENING OF THE LIVERPOOL AND MANCHESTER RAILWAY.

JEFFERSON ON PUBLIC DEBTS AS
PUBLIC BLESSINGS.

[THOMAS JEFFERSON (1743–1826), third President of the United States, was one of the most accomplished scholars and original minds in the early history of the United States. He wrote the Declaration of Independence of the United Colonies, adopted July 4, 1776. His Notes on Virginia (1783), reprinted in more than twelve editions,

are full of acute observation, careful and scientific state

ment and copious suggestions for improvement. Jeffer son's early studies into the sources of law and political institutions gave him great prominence as a leader in

the struggle for independence. He was the author of founder of the University of Virginia, and a zealous adthe Virginia statute of entire religious freedom, the

Governor of Virginia, Minister to France, the first Secretary of State in Washington's Cabinet, Vice-Presi dent of the United States, and President for eight years (1801-1809), he retired to his plantation, the most popu lar of American citizens next to Washington, spending a serene old age at Monticello in study, correspondence and agricultural pursuits, and in watching over the university which he founded.]

place between himself and Dr. Buckland on | made to work, as in that locomotive for one of his favorite theories as to the forma- great human purposes." The idea was certion of coal. But the result was, that Dr. tainly a most striking and original one; like Buckland, a much greater master of tongue- a flash of light, it illuminated in an instant fence than Stephenson, completely silenced an entire field of science. him. Next morning before breakfast, when he was walking in the grounds deeply pondering, Sir William Follett came up and asked what he was thinking about? Why, Sir William, I am thinking over that argument I had with Buckland last night. I know I am right, and that if I had only the command of words which he has, I'd have beaten him." "Let me know all about it," said Sir William, "and I'll see what I can do for you." The two sat down in an arbor, where the astute lawyer made himself thoroughly acquainted with the points of the case; entering into it with all the zeal of an advocate about to plead the dearest interests of his client. After he had mastered the subject, Sir William rose up, rubbing his hands with glee, and said: "Now I am ready for him." Sir Robert Peel was made acquainted with the plot, and adroitly intro-vocate of common schools and the abolition of slavery. duced the subject of the controversy after dinner. The result was, that in the argument which followed, the man of science was overcome by the man of law; and Sir William Follett had at all points the mastery over Dr. Buckland. "What do you say, Mr. Stephenson? asked Sir Robert, laughing. "Why," said he, "I will only say this, that of all the powers above and under the earth, there seems to me to be no power so great as the gift of the gab."... One Sunday, when the party had just returned from church, they were standing together on the terrace near the hall, and observed in the distance a railway train flashing along, throwing behind it a long line of white steam. "Now, Buckland," said Mr. Stephenson, "I have a poser for you. Can you tell me what is the power that is driving that train ?" "Well," said the other, "I suppose it is one of your big engines.' "But what drives the engine?" "Oh, very likely a canny Newcastle driver." What do you say to the light of the sun?" "How can that be ?" asked the doctor. "It is nothing else," said the engineer; "it is light bottled up in the earth for tens of thousands of years-light absorbed by plants and vegetables, being necessary for the condenзation of carbon during the process of their growth, if it be not carbon in another form and now, after being buried in the earth for long ages in fields of coal, that latent light is again brought forth and liberated,

At the time we were funding our national debt, we heard much about " a public debt being a public blessing;" that the stock representing it was a creation of active capita! for the aliment of commerce, manufactures and agriculture. This paradox was well adapted to the minds of believers in dreams, and the gulls of that size entered bonâ fide into it. But the art and mystery of banks is a wonderful improvement on that. It is established on the principle that "private debts are a public blessing." That the evidences of those private debts, called bank notes, become active capital, and aliment the whole commerce, manufactures and agriculture of the United States. Here are a set of people, for instance, who have bestowed on us the great blessing of running in our debt about two hundred millions of dollars, without our knowing who they are, where they are, or what property they have to pay this debt when called on; nay, have made us so sensible of the blessings of letting them run in our debt, that we have

who

Suppose, again, the
Then A. not having

exempted them by law from the repayment | nor public blessing. of these debts beyond a given proportion, public to owe nothing. (generally estimated at one-third). And to lent his money to the public, would be in possession of it himself, and would go into business without the previous operation of selling stock. Here again, the same quantity of capital is employed as in the former case, though no public debt exists. In neither case is there any creation of active capital, nor other difference than that there is a public debt in the first case, and none in the last; and we may safely ask which of the two situations is most truly a public blessing? If, then, a public debt be no public blessing, we may pronounce à fortiori, that a private one cannot be so. If the debt which the banking companies owe be a blessing to any body, it is to themselves alone, who are realizing a solid interest of eight or ten per cent. on it. As to the pub. lic, these companies have banished all our gold and silver medium, which, before their institution, we had without interest, which never could have perished in our hands, and would have been our salvation now in the hour of war; instead of which they have given us two hundred million of froth and bubble, on which we are to pay them heavy interest, until it shall vanish into air, as Morris's notes did. We are warranted, then, in affirming that this parody on the princi ple of " a public debt being a public blessing," and its mutation into the blessing of private instead of public debts, is as ridicu lous as the original principle itself. In both cases, the truth is, that capital may be produced by industry, and accumulated by economy; but jugglers only will propose to create it by legerdemain tricks with paper.

fill up the measure of blessing, instead of paying, they receive an interest on what they owe from those to whom they owe; for all the notes, or evidences of what they owe, which we see in circulation, have been lent to somebody on an interest which is levied again on us through the medium of commerce. And they are so ready still to deal out their liberalities to us, that they are now willing to let them run in our debt ninety millions more, on our paying them the same premium of six or eight per cent. interest, and on the same legal exemption from the repayment of more than thirty millions of the debt, when it shall be called for. But let us look at this principle in its original form, and its copy will then be equally understood. "A public debt is a public blessing." That our debt was juggled from forty-three up to eighty millions, and funded at that amount, according to this opinion was a great public blessing, because the evidences of it could be vested in commerce, and thus converted into active capital, and then the more the debt was made to be, the more active capital was created. That is to say, the creditors could now employ in commerce the money due them from the public, and make from it an annual profit of five per cent., or four millions of dollars. But ohserve, that the public were at the same time paying on it an interest of exactly the same amount of four millions of dollars. Where then is the gain to either party, which makes it a public blessing? There is no change in the state of things, but of persons only. A. has a debt due to him from the public, of which he holds their certificate as evidence, and on which he is receiving an annual interest. He wishes, however, to have the money itself, and to go into business with it. B. has an equal sum of money in business, DIDO, THE CARTHAGINIAN QUEEN. but wishes now to retire, and live on the interest. He therefore gives it to A. in exchange for A.'s certificates of public stock. Now, then, A. has the money in business, which B. so employed before. B. has the money on interest to live on, which A. lived on before; and the public pays the interest to B. which they paid to A. before. Here is no new creation of capital, no additional money employed, nor even a change in the employment of a single dollar. The only change is of place between A. and B. in which we discover no creation of capital,

[VIRGIL (PUBLIUS VIRGILIUS) a famous and popular

Roman poet, born near Mantua, Oct. 15, 70 B. C. He lived in the time of Augustus, the first Emperor of Rome, and was much helped by his chief adviser Mæcenas. The poet was of delicate health, and so retiring in manners that he could hardly have pushed his way without Mæcenas. His principal writings are the Bu

colics," also called " Eclogues," the "Georgics," and the

"Eneid." In the "Georgics" we learn all that the

Romans knew of farming and such matters. Virgil died in Brundusium, on his way home from Greece, when fifty-one years old (Sept. 22, 19 B. C.). His grave

near Naples. We give from the Rev. W. Lucas Col·

lins'" Ancient Classics" the following extract from "The Eneid." Eneas, on his flight from Troy, has reached Carthage and relates his adventures.]

"So King Æneas told his tale

While all beside were still-
Rehearsed the fortunes of his sail,
And Fate's mysterious will,
Then to its close his legend brought,
And gladly took the rest he sought."

The Carthaginian queen has been an eager listener to Eneas's story. She is love. stricken-suddenly, and irremediably. But she is terribly ashamed of her own feelings. She finds relief in disclosing them to a very natural confidant-her sister Anna. She confesses her weakness, but avows at the same time a determination not to yield to it. The stranger has interested her deeply, after a fashion which has not touched her since the death of her husband Sichæus.

"Were not my purpose fixed as fate

With none in wedlock's band to mate,

"E'en as a deer whom from afar
A swain, in desultory war,

Where Cretan woods are thick,
Has pierced, as 'mid the trees she lies,
And, all unknowing of his prize,

Has left the dart to stick:

She wanders lawn and forest o'er,
While the fell shaft still drinks her gorg
Now through the city of her pride
She walks, Æneas at her side,
Displays the stores of Sidon's trade,
And stately homes already made:
Begins, but stops she knows not why,
Now, as the sunlight wears away,
And lets the imperfect utterance die.
She seeks the feast of yesterday,
Inquires once more of Troy's eclipse,
And hangs once more upon his lips;
Then, when the guests have gone their ways,
And the dim moon withdraws her rays,
And setting stars to slumber call,
Alone she mourns in that lone hall,
Clasps the dear couch where late he lay,
Beholds him, hears him far away;
Or keeps Ascanius on her knees,
And in the son the father sees,
Might she but steal one peaceful hour
From love's ungovernable power.
No more the growing towers arise,
No more in martial exercise
The youth engage, make strong the fort,
Or shape the basin in a port."`

But her sister-suiting her counsels, as all confidants are apt to do, to the secret wishes rather than to the professions of Dido-encourages the passion. Perpetual widowhood has a romantic sound, but it is not, in The powers of Olympus here come again Anna's opinion, a desirable estate. Besides, upon the scene. in this newly-planted colony, surrounded as secret satisfaction, the prospect of an enJuno sees, not without a they are by fierce African tribes, an alliance tanglement between Eneas and Dido, which with these Trojan strangers will be a tower may detain these hated Trojans in Africa, of strength. The stout arm of such a hus- and so prevent their settlement and domin band as Eneas is much needed by a wi-ion in Italy. So Carthage, and not the dowed queen. His visit-so Anna thinks Rome of the future, may yet be the mistress -is nothing less than providentialof the world. She addresses herself at once "'Twas Heaven and Juno's grace that bore, to the goddess of love-not without a sneer I ween, these Trojans to our shore." at the success of her snares in poor Dido's case; a sorry triumph it is indeed-two divinities pitted against a weak woman! But come-suppose in this matter they agree to act in concert; let there be a union between the two nations, and let Carthage be the seat of their joint power; its citizen shall pay equal honours to the queen of heaven and the queen of love. Venus understands perfectly well that Juno's motive is at any cost to prevent the foundation of Rome; but having a clearer vision (we must presume) than her great rival of the probable results, she agrees to the terms. There is to be a hunting-party on the morrow and Juno will take care that opportunity

By all means let them detain their illustrious visitor with them as long as possible -his ships require refitting and his crews refreshment-and the result will not be doubtful.

The advice suits with the queen's new mood too well to be rejected. Together the sisters offer pious sacrifices to the gods-to Juno especially, as the goddess of marriage --to give their sanction to the hoped-for alliance. The restless feelings of the enamoured woman are described in one of the finest and most admired passages of the poem :

Stands her proud steed, and champs the bit queen,-Iarbas, king of Gætulia,-hears the