far from attempting to regulate society, contrary to reason and nature, for the benefit of a part, it leaves society to regulate itself, according to reason and nature, for the benefit of the whole. Conforming to the analogy of nature, while it gathers fruit and flowers from the branches which are above, it proceeds upon the principle that the branches which are above can only grow from the root which is below. Sowing the seeds of improvement every where beneath the surface of society, and to a greater or less depth accordingly as they are designed to rise to a greater or less height, it leaves them exposed to the common influences of the light of knowledge and the vital air of freedom, which, by the law of such a system, must be universally diffused. The seeds being various, their growth and functions will be various; but still, true to nature, the system causes such variety to result in mutual dependence, and the imperfection, which constitutes the dependence of each part, to contribute to the perfection of the whole. The oak supports the ivy-the ivy adorns the oak; and while the giant of the forest, "upreared from the lowest depths," spreads his broad arms to hail the sunshine and to grapple with the storm, he affords a quiet shelter and a peaceful shade to such as neither rise so high nor sink so low, but yet proceed from the same earth, and point upward to the same heaven. Our society, therefore, while it discards absurd and artificial distinctions, retains those which are reasonable and natural. It admits and requires the most minute classification; but it makes each class essential to every other, and relies upon the lowest to sustain and balance all that are above it. To use another metaphor, it seeks to rear in the human desert a pyramid of social happiness, which shall exhibit the perfection of political skill and moral taste, and must therefore be constructed, upon the true principle of architecture, that the elevation of the summit shall bear a fixed proportion to the expansion of the base.

The object of other systems, as has been seen, is, by force of law and prescription, to secure to one class of society the ex

clusive and permanent possession of external advantages. Our system, on the contrary, does not interposé any political barrier against the innumerable vicissitudes, to which it is the obvious design of nature that all classes of society, all human beings, should be ever and every where exposed. With us, it may be asserted in the broadest sense, neither law nor prescription have established any land-marks; and so resistless is the tide of revolution in every sphere of society, that there is practically nothing constant but change. In this view, while exposed to so many vicissitudes, while no reliance can be placed on external circumstances, how much does it become us to multiply those social employments and enjoyments, in which all classes may participate, and to which we may cling, with increasing satisfaction, amidst the alternations of prosperity and adversity, that are here the common lot!

The Lyceum is adapted to the condition of our society. Its doors are open to all. Its objects are interesting to all. Its success must be beneficial to all. It calls together all who wish to improve themselves. It renders them instrumental in the improvement of others. It seeks the good of society by diffusing correct sentiments, liberal feelings, and useful knowledge. It recognizes no distinctions, it creates none but those of intellectual and moral worth. Who does not perceive that at its weekly meetings society assumes a different form from any which in our community is elsewhere exhibited? Here is none of the extravagant display of fashion; a worthier object attracts notice and excites admiration. Here is no excess of luxury; it is incompatible with rational entertainment. Here, on the other hand, is no vulgar sport; the passion for it is extinguished. Here there need be no want of refinement; whatever adorns the character is inspired, fostered, and honored. Here is no arena for political strife or religious controversy; the Lyceum is dedicated to the single object in which all sects and parties may cordially concur. While the characteristic animosities, follies, and vices of all classes are excluded by the avowed purposes of the institution, whatever is estima

ble and virtuous in any one class is readily associated with kindred traits in other classes; and thus while in fact each class is drawn hither by the impulse of a common desire for improvement, all are gradually led to acquire a common taste, a common sympathy, and a common attachment. Is there not here presented a bright combination of social attractions, and a wide scope for the influence of the best principles and the best affections? Who has not experienced that social improvement and enjoyment are blended upon such occasions? Who has not learned to think moreseriously of his social obligations, and to correct his sentiments and feelings in regard to others, towards whom he had suffered himself to cherish unkind prejudices, habitual aversion, or, it may be, a mistaken resentment?

The leading interests of society are to be here studied, discussed, illustrated, and explained. The arts which supply our wants, multiply our comforts, and embellish our external condition-the sciences which lie at the foundation of these arts

-the sentiments and habits which fix the standard of public opinion, and give the tone to public morals-whatever concerns us in the intercourse of the world-these are subjects which must constantly recur in lectures and discussions. Practical information, judicious suggestions, seasonable hints, striking views of common relations and duties will thus serve to fill up and enliven the hours which we pass here, and will enable us to go back to our firesides and the ordinary walks of life better fitted for the employments, and with a purer relish for the enjoyments that await us there.

III. I am next to speak of the political rights and privileges, and corresponding obligations and duties of American citizens at the present day.

We have undertaken to govern ourselves. We have chosen to retain in the hands of the many the power, which, whenever entrusted to the few, has been converted into tyranny. We bow to the will of the people as the supreme law.

We trust to public opinion to protect our rights, to promote our interests, to cure evils, to avert dangers. While abroad, the administration of government can hardly be changed without violent commotion, anarchy and bloodshed, we effect quiet revolutions at the ballot-box in the election of every new Governor and President. We repose beneath the standard of civil and religious liberty, and we offer to the oppressed of all nations a safe asylum and a cordial welcome. We cling to our institutions after an experiment of more than a half-century, and we contemplate results flattering to our national pride. We hesitate no longer to believe that our system is practicable; and while we are not unmindful of present evils and future dangers, we rely upon the ability of the people to work out their political salvation, even, if it must be, at critical periods, with fear and trembling.

How unpretending and yet how effective, how simple and yet how perfect is our form of government! It proceeds from the people, it depends upon the people; and yet, for all necessary objects, it controls and restrains the people far more effectually than the most rigid despotism. It was founded in open defiance of the majesty of a king; it subsists by enforcing submission to the majesty of law. At a period like the present, when its garrisons are deserted—when no military force is visible-when its officers of all grades are mingled in the mass of population-when the press publishes with boldness, nay even with effrontery, the views and purposes of every party, the opinions, suggestions and insinuations of every individual, it exerts a power, which, the less it is seen, the more it is felt, and which, identified with public opinion, is supported by the very freedom, that, if it were constituted like any other government, would serve to overthrow it. How true is it, that the devices by which every other government is sustained, could only have the effect to endanger our own! A standing army is an object of terror, not to the enemies, but to the friends of our institutions; to subject the press to a censorship were to kindle a political volcano; and to separate the officers of

government into a distinct and permanent class, were, by this very act, to divest them of their authority.

If the perfection of our government consists in its simplicity, its security results from the complex distribution of its powers. It was formerly decried as a many-headed monster, Time has shown that the greatest political monster is a government which has but a single head, and must fall a victim to the weakness or madness of an individual. Experience has proved that it is only where laws are framed by the deliberations of many heads, and are administered by many hands, they can secure the approbation of many hearts; and it is a maxim as old as the oldest government, that heartless obedience is incipient rebellion.

Without detracting from the manifest wisdom of the founders of our system, it is clear that it is indebted for many of its advantages to the circumstances under which it was established. It was most fortunate, that, before the adoption of the Federal Constitution, there existed several distinct states, previously provinces, who, although they had become convinced of the necessity of a general government to concentrate their resources, to render efficient the means of military protection, to provide a permanent and uniform revenue, to regulate commerce, and to superintend foreign relations, had also learned that the executive, legislature and judiciary of each state were sufficient and most suitable for the management of its particular concerns. It was fortunate, also, that towns and plantations should have had a separate existence before the establishment of the provincial governments. The most effectual mode of administering municipal affairs was thus ascertained, which has been wisely preserved, in a great measure, in its original simplicity. Our union, vast as it has become in population and resources, is but an aggregate of divisions and subdivisions of power, combined, if I may so say, upon a principle of political induction.

Consider, for a moment, one of the principal divisions-the State of Massachusetts. Our citizens are reared in towns, which provide schools for their childhood, which maintain asylums